Fifty Shades of Grey: Being More Ashamed on Valentines Day Than I Usually Am

If you were to ask me what my perfect Valentine’s Day is, I suppose I would describe a quiet evening filled with baby animal butlers bringing me autumnal beers, and fireworks that spell out “Carly, You Look Cute Today” in the Paris sky. But alas, autumnal beers are out of season so time for Plan B (no ‘wink, wink’ to follow).

This year I had a very special Valentine– this blog! And what better way to show my dedication to laughing at my own jokes then to fad it up with a theater filled with lonely single mothers. Enter the idea of going to see the ultimate entering: Fifty Shades of Grey (henceforth known as 50SoG, because I’m not trying to spend my whole night typing out that title).

If you do not know (what are you, some sort of Carly-level hermit??) 50SoG is the first book in the trilogy of erotic works by E.L. James. The story hilariously started as Twilight fan fiction and was written under the name Snowqueen’s Icedragon (!!!!!). Currently it has sold over a HUNDRED FUCKING MILLION COPIES. UGH. In the UK it sold out Harry Potter. KILL.ME.


Inevitably, the book led to a movie deal, and the movie deal opened up 100 million fad doors. There are 50SoG teddy bears. Target is selling 50SoG sex toys. Teachers are getting fired for assigning 50SoG word finds. The trend gods have spoken, and they are saying “LET’S GET WEIRD.”

If you would had asked me two weeks ago what my opinion was on this franchise, I would have ranted along with the rest of the haters about not needing to read fetishized anti-feminist porn before I go to bed (I get enough of that online [loljk, feminist eroticism forever!!!]).

So what brought me to my decision to read this 500 page porn and see this agonizingly long (why can’t all movies be 90 minutes?!) film for my Valentines Day weekend? Well, I thought it would be funny. Continue reading