By Lauren Bell
The publisher’s blurb of Werhun and Bazuin’s book Modern Whore says that “it’s Playboy if the Playmates were in charge,” and that is honestly the most accurate summary one could give. I’d even add that reading it is also like listening to a Lizzo song: you finish a chapter and come out high on girl power. The sense of love and respect the two creators have for each other is genuine, and this adds to the sense of female empowerment the audience gains from reading Werhun’s story. The book is a blend of memoir and image, the result of a collaboration between Andrean Werhun and filmmaker Nicole Bazuin.
Ultimately, everything we know about the “Modern Whore” is wrong. Encounters with them are more than just sex; they’re whatever their client needs them to be (e.g., smart, funny, a conversationalist, sincere, accepting), and they deserve the same fundamental respect deserved by all women. Werhun’s development into a Modern Whore begins in her adolescence: she’s self-assured, confident, and unapologetic (everything my teenage self wished she could be), and she keeps the values she establishes as a youth with her as she begins her sex work career in university. There’s a lot one can learn from her stories on the job—and not just different positions, but also how one can best support a sex worker (e.g., what’s stigmatizing to say vs. what’s meaningful). Her work is funny in a cynical and satirical way, conveyed by anecdotes she includes aside of the main text, such as her takes on erotic board reviews and tips like “Remind any boundary-pushers that it is your body, your rules, and your safety!” But Werhun also does not shy away from serious topics. For instance, I found her experiences in giving up alcohol and in outreach to be particularly thoughtful.
In the second half of the book, Werhun chronicles her experiences as a dancer and outreach worker, which emphasize the sense of community amongst sex workers and dancers. There’s an unspoken “whore code,” where the workers support each other outwardly in giving advice and cheering their peers on, but also in more subtle ways like leaving supplies in their locker room donation bin. This extends to other, non-sex work-related things as well, which Werhun saw firsthand as she released Modern Whore during the difficult time when the COVID-19 pandemic was shaking the industry. Werhun highlights how resilient and supportive the community is.
What I liked most about her writing is that it is honest, bordering the line of bluntness, regardless whether she’s sharing a personal story or calling out rape culture. Her lack of sugar-coating is refreshing; she writes as if she wants her words to be a mirror in which you can see yourself, and her unique perspective on sex work is insightful. What’s more is that along with her brutal honesty, she’s also forgiving towards her younger self, which I’d argue is one of the most important themes in the book. I hope other readers can take away the theme of self-love the way that I did, among the many others embedded in Modern Whore.
Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.