People have been talking about the vulva for thousands of years. But almost never in a simple and matter-of-fact way.
It was once depicted as a symbol of fertility. Later, it came to be regarded as something dangerous, shameful and something that needed to be hidden.
Today, there is a whole industry built around it, offering ‘rejuvenation’, cosmetic treatments and surgery.
At the same time, artists depict the vulva in their work, activists use it as a symbol of protest, and doctors try to explain that normal female anatomy can look very different indeed.
How did one part of the human body undergo such a transformation – from a symbol of fertility to an object of shame, from an ‘ideal of beauty’ to a political symbol?
The French newspaper *Le Monde* has sought to unpick this story. The British *Guardian* adds insights into the influence of pornography and social media.
Together, they show that the debates surrounding female genitalia are not just about the body. They are also about power, shame, beauty and a person’s right to decide for themselves what to do with their own body.
The vulva as a symbol of fertility
Today, it is hard to imagine that the vulva could once have been openly depicted in art – without shame or any desire to conceal it. Yet that is exactly how it was.
Tens of thousands of years ago, people created depictions of the female body, placing particular emphasis on the pubic area. This is evidenced by finds in France – at the La Ferras site and in the Chauvet Cave, where some of the world’s oldest cave paintings have been preserved.
There are other interesting finds too. For example, in the small Venus figurine from Montpazier, the female genitalia are deliberately depicted as very large. It is likely that this was how ancient people sought to emphasise a woman’s fertility.
In Ancient Mesopotamia, too, female sexuality was not viewed as something shameful. In one ancient text, the goddess Ishtar says to her beloved: ‘Sow my vulva, my beloved!’
But over time, everything changed.
Christian-Georg Schwentzel, a historian specialising in antiquity, told *Le Monde* that the turning point occurred in Ancient Greece, and subsequently in Rome. During this period, female sexuality began to be perceived as something dangerous.
‘In Greece, and later in the Roman world, the vulva became an object of contempt,’ the historian notes.
Women, with their desires, gradually came to be seen as something that needed to be restrained and controlled.
And this idea has proved surprisingly enduring.
Psychoanalyst Sara Piazza speaks of a ‘fear of female genitalia’, which, in her view, runs through the entire history of the depiction of women — from antiquity to the present day.
Control in the guise of beauty
The desire to alter women’s genitals did not, either, arise in our time.
Practices involving the removal of parts of the genitalia or altering their appearance have existed in various cultures.
European medicine described operations to reduce the size of the labia minora long before the advent of modern plastic surgery.
Today, women decide for themselves what to do with their bodies. But this raises the question: how free is this choice if society constantly dictates what the ‘correct’ female body should look like?
Medicine answers this question as follows: there is no single ‘correct’ appearance for the vulva.
Sexologist Joël Minio points out that there is no medical standard for the appearance of female genitalia. They vary greatly – just as male genitalia do.
However, a woman may look at her own perfectly normal body and think that something is wrong with it.
Who came up with the ‘ideal’ vulva?
Over recent decades, this pressure has been amplified by the porn industry, social media, adverts for cosmetic procedures and the trend for complete hair removal.
Gradually, a rather narrow image of the ‘perfect’ vulva has emerged: smooth, hairless, without visible folds, firm, pink and odourless.
Gynaecologist Sophie Berville calls this a kind of ‘gold standard’ that took shape in the 2000s.
Piazza calls this ‘Barbie sexuality’ – a smooth, almost featureless version of the female body that bears little resemblance to actual anatomy.
The Guardian adds: the problem is also that young people are largely unaware of just how varied normal anatomy can be.
In 2024, the publication cited the findings of an Australian study: amongst young people aged 18 to 24, 23 per cent experienced anxiety or shame about their labia.
And almost half of those who had considered cosmetic surgery attributed this decision to what they had seen in pornography or on social media.
Photo credit: Getty Images
At the same time, not every woman who wants to change her body has simply fallen victim to advertising, social media or pornography.
Gynaecologist Sophie Berville tells Le Monde that some of her patients had been distressed for years about the appearance of their genitals, were embarrassed to undress in front of a partner, or avoided sexual intimacy.
After the operation, she says, some found it psychologically easier, and their sex lives improved.
Therefore, the question is not simply a matter of ‘whether or not to have the operation’. What matters is whether the person understands the potential risks and consequences, and whether the decision is truly their own.
At the same time, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists (ACOG) warns that the internet and pornography can create the impression that normal anatomy looks ‘wrong’, and that there is as yet insufficient evidence regarding the safety and effectiveness of many cosmetic procedures in this area.
From shame to protest and knowledge
And here the story takes an unexpected turn.
The body, which for centuries had been forced to remain hidden, became a means of speaking out.
In 1969, the Austrian artist Valie Export walked into a Munich cinema wearing an outfit with a cut-out in the crotch area. It was a deliberate provocation and a protest against the way the female body is turned into an object for the male gaze.
Export invited the audience not to see yet another erotic image on the screen, but a real woman right there beside them – and to interact with her in person.
In the 1970s, feminist artists began to openly use images of female genitalia in their work – as a way of addressing female sexuality, the female body, and a woman’s right to determine for herself how to display it.
One of the artists associated with this movement was Judy Chicago.
Art historian and critic Cindy Nemser played a key role in popularising this movement; she wrote about feminist art and supported the female artists in this circle.
Photo credit: Getty Images
Subsequently, this theme extended beyond the realm of art.
In 2019, the artist Deborah de Robertis appeared naked outside the European Parliament. This was her way of protesting against the under-representation of women in positions of power.
“The display of the naked body is a mirror that can exert political influence. But it is not so much the body itself that is political as the reflections it provokes,” she explained.
At the same time, projects emerged that sought to replace shame with knowledge.
In 2011, artist Jamie McCartney created the Great Wall of Vagina – a composition of casts of 400 vulvas – to showcase the diversity of female anatomy.
In 2016, The Vulva Gallery was launched – a design project demonstrating just how varied female anatomy can be.
And in 2019, the Vagina Museum opened in London – a museum dedicated to female anatomy, health and society’s perception of the female body.
Today, the vulva is once again entering the public eye – but for a different reason.
It is being shown to talk about freedom. It is being studied to combat shame.
It is depicted in art to discuss power and the right of individuals to decide for themselves what to do with their own bodies.
The question is no longer what the vulva should look like.
It can look different. And that’s normal.