Sex, Shame and Scandal - My Opinion on Bonnie Blue’s Documentary
Bonnie Blue, a.k.a Tia Billinger, the controversial adult content creator, has certainly been making headlines, and the question is, is it for all the right reasons?
The OnlyFans icon who previously worked in finance recruitment for the NHS, took a dramatic turn for her career from webcam modelling, to the entertainment site, in search of creating a new ‘world record’ by sleeping with over 1,000 men in 12 hours.
The challenging-for-most Channel 4 documentary; ‘1000 Men and Me: The Bonnie Blue Story’, has brought up many thoughts around hustle culture within the sex industry, and the potential harm she may be causing to young people. If there was ever a warning for your browser history, I think watching this documentary might just be it.
As a justifyingly important discourse in society, not only does it shed important light on deep-rooted social issues such as gender, identity, and historical injustice, but it also serves to give viewers an unglamorous view of the lifestyle. Having said this, people are quick to note Bonnie’s eye-watering salary, ranging from 600,000, to 1.5 million pounds from her OnlyFans and Fansly content. Some people may argue that this makes it all worth it. I, however, would not.
What makes the story even more interesting, is that her filmmaker, who follows her for six months, also reveals the vulnerabilities she faces from her actions, and the toll that her fame has taken on her.
It isn’t news to us that OnlyFans is a massive player in the adult content subscription space. An online figure from SocialRise, suggests the platform has over 305 million users worldwide, with this figure peaking during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. Lockdown resulted in many using the adult entertainment site for pleasure; perhaps a response to many facing a world that didn’t make any sense, and may have lacked intimacy for a lot of people during that time.
Personally, I feel like this documentary forces us to ask questions and to reflect on what society accepts, tolerates and stigmatises when it comes to sexual content. There is always a level of hypocrisy here; the number above shows us how many people are users - and yet only the workers are degraded. So what’s the rule here? You can use it, but not earn from it? In this show, Bonnie appears to be shifting herself behind the wheel of the narrative. Not only does she show us the reality of the world, she adds humanity and emotion into a name - i.e her own - that has been turned, sadly, into a meme or a topic for debate.
Even on platforms such as Instagram and TikTok, the phrase ‘OnlyFans detected, opinion rejected’ is commonly used, to dismiss women who create content on such sites. Even if this platform crafts a sense of autonomy and economic trajectory, men are quick to dismiss women’s voices in this industry. It is interesting that they are the ones using the platform, but quick to pass judgement on the performers and their right to do so.
A large number of critics, due to the sensitivity of the documentary, were fast to launch their views. According to GB News, one viewer stated ‘Channel 4, you are truly disgusting for airing a documentary about Bonnie Blue, in any way shape or form’.
Another outlet that criticised her, was The Times newspaper, who even argued that it ‘glamorises the performer’, rather than offering meaningful discourse of porn culture.
The daytime TV show Lorraine, had an interesting debate about the documentary, and whether pornography has become normalised. They argued that in a world obsessed with image online and offline, her campaign to sleep with a thousand men in a short amount of time, ultimately, helped market her brand, and offered more than what ‘clickbait’ had bargained for.
Broadcaster Nicola Thorp, made an interesting point during the debates, where she stated; "Is Bonnie Blue just a product of the society we live in?” taking a dig at how we need to evaluate the way in which we treat women online.
Despite it all, it is interesting to see how social media and the argument itself, is actually continuing to help build her an empire. Like her or hate her, by talking about her, you’re adding into her pocket.
Having heard of all of this, I do have to come down on one side. For me, as much as I engage with the nuance of this - especially female agency - I do feel her media stunts are harmful to younger audiences. I also think it pushes a negative connotation onto young people on what to expect from sex and relationships. If more shocking content like this continues to circulate, this will just become the norm, and that does sound scary.
A stunt with a large amount of people such as this, creates a big concern for sexual diseases, through high public exposure, which is also alarming, and a topic that a lot of younger audiences may not be aware of.
Bonnie also revealed to hosting ‘school themed events’ in an evocative and fantasy induced manner, which is extremely inappropriate, particularly with the rise of sexual harassment of young people in and out of the classroom.
However, fame hungry or not, in a cripplingly depressing culture where women are still fighting for rights to safety, is fetishising sexual content for all to see, ok?
Putting my mind into a young adult’s perspective, what we see online shapes our beliefs on what is deemed ‘normal’ in a relationship. To portray sexual experiences so graphically, some may say is educational or liberating, others may worry this sends a message that intimacy is transactional, and self-worth is tied to visibility and sexual availability.
Despite my feelings towards her explicit content, I do feel a slight pang of guilt, when she discusses that she cannot go outside without receiving death threats.
In the end, the documentary works less as a moral statement, and more so as a mirror. It reflects back some of our contradictions and collective attitudes towards social norms, ambition and success, women’s agency, and the effects of digital culture. Whether you view her as empowered or exploitative, the show successfully makes us reflect on our hidden feelings towards sexual identity and porn.
Written by Megan Evans
