Renaissance - from New York Moves March 2006

Renaissance

The crux of our vitality is in springtime; it is by far the most sensual of all the seasons. Like the Scorpio coming out of winter’s chill, spring is sex.
By Michele Zipp

The rainfall in April saturates the earth, in a sense impregnating it, giving it virility for the offspring of the season, the flowers. It is the time of year when most living organisms are in for the mood for procreation. The birds and the bees — and humans — all take their cue from nature. The sun rises sooner, the temperature rises higher, and hemlines just rise. Women, the earth’s most fascinating living creatures, are in a sense shedding their inhibitions, welcoming the warmth of the sun’s effect on their bare skin. Springtime in New York City is when the fashionistas near Bryant Park stop ordering dim sum at their desks, but instead venture out to the park to enjoy a salad in the warm air. Young professional men in suits descend from their 24th floor corner office and shed their jackets, giving a view of their physique, while women watch with skirts blowing suggestively in the breeze. Toe cleavage is finally visible again, hinting only to the more risqué of what’s to come — the sandal. Spring is the foreplay to summer’s total exhibitionism, and while she doesn’t own up to the dirty dalliances in sexy swimsuits, she does give a taste of what’s underneath. Just a brief sweet taster of the even sweeter nectar available. What happens specifically in spring, and in no other season, is a rebirth, an awakening of the senses, a surge of excitement.

Spring is like the elixir of the soul — taking the body out of hibernation and filling it with new confidence. All thanks go to the sun, nature’s best aphrodisiac. Add to that the warm fresh air and the flowers won’t be the only ones secreting their sweetness. In fact, a study conducted by The Journal of Sex shows that the way a woman feels directly affects her sexual behavior. “The study points out that women’s body image was a significant predictor of their specific sexual functioning,” says researcher Patricia Bartholow Koch, Ph.D., of Pennsylvania State University’s bio-behavioral health and women’s studies sect, in an article on WebMD.

So the sun’s rays shining down will not only make you feel good, you’ll look good, and have a carnal desire and prowess that would make men melt. Of course (and somewhat ironically) this phenomenon carries on so well after darkness falls. Happy hour is finally happy again, and outdoor arenas filled with passion fruit-infused cocktails further provoke the exhibitionist inside. Add vodka to the succulent crops of spring and your libation will make you even more libidinous. The phallic shape of the banana promotes sensuality, while the innuendo of the peach makes it even juicier in your mouth. Cherries are a given. Pears, papayas, and strawberries are all sensual fruits, ripe and arousing.

“See where she comes, appareled like the spring,” Shakespeare wrote in The Prince of Tyre. In his time, women’s legs were kept under petticoats and rarely seen even in the warmer months. The sultan of sonnets also recognized the beauty in perversity, unless of course you believe double-entendres are reserved only for the contemporary. Spring fashion echoes these sentiments — we show a little more of the shoulder, the nape is exposed, the ankles bare, our calves see the light of day as the skirts and pants seem to creep slowly up towards our thighs as the mercury rises. The clothes we wear (or barely wear) reflect the attitude of the season. Just like we packed away our neck warmers along with all our knitted gloves in a plastic bin from The Container Store, we are starting to shelve our reservations about putting ourselves out there, to see and be seen. We are more willing to take risks and perhaps that is why Chlamydia is dubbed “Spring Break disease.” While some risks aren’t worth taking, others certainly are.

The metamorphosis that begins in this season breaks us out of a shell. We can finally spread our wings again, which lay dormant through the sub-freezing wind chill coming off the Hudson River. Valentine’s Day is in February, but the true heat starts with the romance of spring. The season seduces winter out of its doldrums, spreading lusty thoughts, taking us into the abandon of summer. Spring is as precocious as the magnolia, one of the most sexually progressive flowers. She comes on beautiful and strong and often before most other flowers, but leaves just as quickly like a fleeting romance, a spring fling. Just like the butterfly, who flutters south for the winter, only to return to New York in time for the season of fruition ready to mate? The winged insect, one of the only bugs we don’t fear, cannot fly if their body is less than 86 degrees, so they often bask in the sun to retain heat. Much like we do when we head outside for a walk in the sun and feel reenergized. Much like we do when we head outside with our revitalized confidence. Much like men do to feel a natural invigoration. We are thawed. Spring has sprung — and so has he.