OnlyFans is having an identity crisis
Paging the Queer Eye guys
Hi!
Heads up this week’s post is NSFW… or actually, maybe it is SFW… which is exactly the problem.
To state the obvious: Our current political climate is giving rise to a more puritanical societal relationship with sex. This article from 404 Media offers a comprehensive overview (as well as the revelation that TikTok has sexualized sunny side up eggs). More straightforward representations of sex are being shushed off our platforms (including OnlyFans, more on that in a sec), and replaced with strange double entendres inviting you to imagine their horniness. A friend recently asked the group chat: “Anyone else constantly being served reels of covert dicks?” alongside a screenshot post of a man “teaching you how to backflip” wearing very tight shorts. (Related note: this friend is interested in neither men nor gymnastics.)
This tactic isn’t exactly new in American culture (see: Puritans), and I still remember the thrill of seeing, on a trip to France in college, an ordinary nipple on their network TV. Qu’est ce que c’est le problème, prude American?! So I can’t imagine the confusion of this generation of kids growing up in a society where a nipple is strictly regulated but everything from eggs to grapefruits to sports highlights can be packaged to seem (in their parlance) deeply sus.
Now, with a sale of OnlyFans looming, one of the kinkier places on the internet is getting (at least partially) scrubbed in an effort to make it more SFW. (From my alt role as an investor, I’m quite familiar with the challenges sexual health companies face in overcoming investors’ “sin clauses,” which we don’t have…. #humblebrag.) And, sure, I hope OnlyFans get the valuation of their dreams, but it’s unfortunate that a key place for sex workers to get paid is resorting to the same euphemistic approach of all the other platforms. This week’s contributor has both more experience and more thoughts on this topic than I, so… over to Reece Sisto!
Sticking to scrambled eggs for now,
Jocelyn
Reece Sisto is a content strategist, writer, and general malefactor based mostly in Los Angeles. He loves cold emails. You can read more of his writing here.
One thing that makes Reece feel well: a thimble of ashwaganda on an empty stomach.
Is there only one way for OnlyFans? Unsolicited brand advice from a self-proclaimed sexpert
For reasons beyond the scope of this article—and your business—I know quite a bit about OnlyFans, and it’s an admittedly ugly place. Literally speaking, the UI is rudimentary, some sort of castaway Facebook, loading times clogged by the various excretions of its 300 million users, but also existentially: investigations reveal child sex abuse and trafficking have run rampant on the site. As someone… familiar with the site, I can personally report a recent and marked shift in OnlyFans’ self-projection in an effort to rehabilitate its seedy image. From fast recruiting comedians and celebrities to scrubbing themselves of “kinkier” (more often than not, LGBTQ+) creators, OnlyFans has been rebranding with furtive desperation. If you were wondering if some moral imperative might undergird this brandstorm, don’t: OnlyFans is up for sale.
I don’t take much issue with my relationship to the site. As a gay man, I’m less implicated by than collateral to OnlyFans’ piecemeal content moderation, the ebbs and flows of which tend to disproportionately impact LGBTQ+ creators (queer sexuality is generally unfairly policed online). Less anecdotal, though equally unsubstantiable, a plurality of “those OF guys” are my friends—it’s a small world for white gay men of means, and I live in LA, the Jerusalem (Gomorrah?) of sex work. My point is: OnlyFans, however grim, is not irrecoverable and serves a large, dare I say necessary, enterprise. As their half-baked attempts to sanitize and “expert opinion” suggest, the site’s viability going forward demands diversification. And yet there’s evidence that the opposite may be what’s best. Calling all She-EOs: What happened to leaning in?
A major, albeit obvious, clarification: I don’t mean doubling down on illicit activity. “Leaning in” can still be a reinvention. For a website with a committed audience of horny straight men, this might look like sexual wellness. We know these men are less likely than other gender and sexual identity groups to seek sexual education, get tested for STIs, or have comprehensive knowledge about pregnancy prevention. It seems safe to conclude they lack any sense of sexual wellness. Eager to sell and splooge-bombing the market to see what sticks, I’m not convinced OnlyFans knows what users want; so in the meantime, maybe give them what they need?
Granted, it might be a hard sell getting this demographic to pay attention to sexual wellness content (which isn’t just about safe sex, but also the messy interpretative work of consent, respect, and, if we’re getting ambitious, mutual pleasure). I sympathize—nothing makes me more limp than an overwrought conversation about boundaries—but there’s hope yet. Enter MintStars, a fast-rising OnlyFans competitor. “[Sexual wellness] is good business when the vast majority of customers are using the platform for sexual exploration, entertainment, and connection,” said MJ Fox, Irish sex educator, MintStars’ Head of Brand and Community, and recent friend unlocked through the queer nightlife illuminati. MintStars’ brand MO is sexual wellness. They sponsor events with sex ed groups on harm reduction and sex workers’ rights and are also working on more titillating partnerships—like with actual sex clubs—to distribute condoms and host workshops on kink play like shibari. Granted, I’m not much for what sounds like group therapy with ropes, but I do believe it works for some people, and, more importantly, it’s proof that centering, rather than obfuscating, sex positive voices can actually work. If you don’t believe me, at least believe the numbers: MintStars has reported over £1 million in revenue and grown its creator base eightfold in the last year.
One might imagine that the issue with sexual wellness content is making it, well, sexy. Fair enough—most people’s experience with this stuff starts and ends with whatever reductive “pedagogical” vids they were forced to watch in grade school. But where they might then see a collective crisis, I see a slopping wet hole in the market eager to be filled—and isn’t filling holes kind of the whole shtick? Besides, I believe you can sell anything if you’re hot enough. Case in point: some of my favorite gay creators (I’ll spare y’all the hyperlinks) partner with companies like MISTR to increase awareness about preventative HIV medication PrEP, and access to other STI treatments through hole-forward social media posting. Nothing makes me want to take my PrEP more than knowing Parker Nolan won’t let me hit unless I do.
To try and make this less about me, sexual wellness is a multi-billion dollar industry projected to grow by over 30% this decade. If this is about marketability, then why not follow the money? Regardless of OnlyFans’ motivation, or whatever harebrained market research they’re acting on, sexual wellness is a seriously underexplored strategy despite others’ relative success with it in the space. The men on OnlyFans are insatiable little pixel pigs; in other words, the perfect consumers. I know we’re not supposed to feed the beast, but surely it’s easier than killing him.
In an age of virulent attacks on bodily autonomy and sexual identity, the proliferation of trad-wife content and the aestheticization of women’s return to the kitchen, sex negativity is more in vogue than ever. These things make OnlyFans’ newfangled strategy legible, but profitable? I’m not so sure. Rinsing itself of its illicit image strikes me as an uphill battle, not to mention a tacit betrayal of the core base of users and creators who made the app profitable. Beyond MintStars, other competitors like JustForFans are proliferating, relying in part on creators’ and users’ shared frustration with OnlyFans’ draconianism. I don’t see OnlyFans toppling anytime soon, but it usually doesn’t end well for sites that crack down on porn after making their bag on it. Regardless, insofar as OnlyFans sees diversifying as the way forward, I see a diversity of ways forward. The advice I’d give OnlyFans’ marketing execs is the same I’d give any unconfident young man looking to get laid: Before trying anything else, try being yourself.
FIND REECE ON
(I, Ciara, self-proclaimed/resident team queer, have taken over this section this week, as is my god-given right!) Thanks for teeing me up, Reece. I was going to start with a hole joke… but figured I’d try a different entrance.
Reece’s meditation on OnlyFans’ future got us thinking about the future of another LGBTQ cultural touchstone: Pride! Which we want to talk about because… way fewer people are this year. Many cultural institutions and corporations who have, in year’s past, gladly jumped on the (parade) bandwagon, are now quietly (and swiftly!) jumping off: 2 in 5 corporations are backing off their pride efforts in fear of political retaliation. And a quick look at Google trends indicates that even our “pride” searches are on track to be lower than the previous four years.
It’s not the worst thing that Target isn’t bombarding us with “Born This Gay” merch the moment we walk past the threshold of those iconic red balls, but it’s a signal that mainstream cultural narratives are changing in a way that’s not exactly giving… rainbow.
There are many people delving deeper into how this year’s Pride feels a little off, but here are a few of our favorites:
This essay reflecting on ten years of Prides from former Prism contributor JP Brammer
This piece from the Intercept on the death of corporate Pride
This breakup note in McSweeny’s
Whatever shape future Pride takes, we just hope parades remain central. Prism loves a parade. (Hopefully corporations tap out of those, too–I, for one, would be happy never seeing a Homo Estás float from Chipotle ever again 🫶🏽).
Rhythmic 🎵
Vibey 🌀
Thanks for reading! Hope the rest of your Sunday is more bonding than bondage (unless that’s your thing).