Tag Archive: Sexy


Why do Jamaican men love fat women? And when I say fat women I simply mean women whose BMI(Body Mass Index) is outside of the upper proportions dictated by conventional western medicine. The variation and determination of  what is “fat” varies so much and is skewed by class, race and even in some cases even age group. But like many of our African brothers who still reside on the continent, a big strapting woman is also a  desired entity for many Jamaican men. Perhaps deep in our subconscious, big body women signify abundance, fertility and wealth.

Many men who have a preference for slimmer women have said that they have gone out of their way to “tackle a big ting properly” because,like Everest, it is just one of those challenges that you have to take on. The degree to which Jamaican men especially of our fathers’and grandfathers’ generation obsess over fat woman is very prominently displayed in all our music forms. Ska, Rocksteady, Reggae and Dancehall have all had big tunes glorifying and speaking about our fatty fixation. So, in this our 50th year I must tribute all the big body woman dem!

Here are my top 10 tunes in praise of fatty in no specific order.

This is a guest piece written by a good friend of mine @dalveyG .  It sums up a lot of the sentiments of those of us who know what Passa Passa really was about and were able to experience some of the nuances and personalities that make it one of the most interesting events in the history of Jamaica.

I miss Passa Passa.  Not the Passa Passa of the DVD fame, the one with the camera so much under girl’s skirts, it seemed like a tampon.  No, I miss Passa Passa, the social gathering.

I caught the Passa Passa bug right in the middle.  My first experience was an anniversary dance in 2004.  I was right on stage when the judging was taking place for the skimpiest outfit. The winner – a young woman with her jeans jumper cut so close, you could see her pubic hair.

But, that was not my Passa.  My Friend, Big Black Barry was genetically tied to Passa Passa, and in the summer of 2004, I was bored a lot.  That was not a good combination.  Most Wednesday nights, we would make our way down, round about 1 in the morning.   From 1am to 7am, you could find me leaning against the wall of Miles drug store on Spanish Town Rd.

Passa Passa was an interesting experience for me.  From my vantage point, against the wall, it was like a drama –  I watched as a multitude of relationships played out in front my eyes.

The Wannabe, Hype Artist…trying to get the DJ to play his CD, certain that if it got a forward at Passa, it would be a certain hit, locally and overseas.

The Thug Wannabe, making sure he passed in front of the light, the corner of his mouth approaching his ear, trying to seem to the world like the new tough kid on the block.

The real thugs, never seen in the lime light, but who could be found on the outskirts, their easy smiles belying their harsh realities.

The Video Vixens – fresh from Quad – certain that being caught on video and shown on Hype TV, or on DVD’s overseas would cement there position as the hottest thing ever to wear fur lined boots.

They all came to Tivoli.  There was a feeling of peace and security.  As long as your vehicle was parked out of the road, and not blocking anyone, and you observed the norms of decency and civility, you felt that all was well, and the party would continue until you left.

In a country with high rates of police shootings, murders and motor vehicle accidents, I was painfully aware of the fact that it was very likely that several of the persons there partying on any one night might not be there the next week. However, that did not stop you from living in the present.

Passa Passa was the place where I could led down my guard and be me.  Guinness  or Rum and Cranberry in hand, weed smoke blowing in the wind, Genius or Maestro on the mic, between 1 and 7 on a Thursday morning, all was well with the world.

Never once did I witness an incident. (Me, who had to run from House of Leo, during the Willy Haggart Period, ducked from bottles at multiple Stings, shootings at several dances).

Never once did I feel that my personal security, nor my property was in danger.  I was content to lean against the wall, and watch the world “over the wall” and “flowers a bloom”.

I never really knew the Passa Passa popularized by the DVDs.  Later, when I moved to live to another country, I realized the world only knew Passa Passa between the hours of 6 and 7, or as it is known, cratches morning.  So, I encountered a foreign version of Passa, where the focus was on girls taking their underwear off, and dry humping on asphalt.  Understandably, the culture rejected this, and the name of Passa Passa is forever tarnished in at least one country.

But, I woke up missing the Passa I knew.  Those days are probably gone, but I miss them, and I am the better for having had them.

The Perfect Pumpum

I never really given much thought to the possibility that women may have real issues with the appearance of their vaginas. I guess as a man your main concern is just the ability to do a good job when you get some pumpum . Other than the obvious grooming and phatness adjectives, the nuances of pumpum structure are for the most part lost on most men.  Apparently this is not the case with a significant amount of women who go to great extremes surgically to alter the appearance of their vaginas. A procedure called Labioplasty has become big business in certain 1st world countries.  Is this happening in Jamaica and other 3rd world countries? I invite comments and answers to the following:

Is there such a thing as a ugly pumpum?

If it is ugly, can’t it be covered by the proper haircut?

Is there a racial/cultural component as regards to what constitutes pretty pumpum?

Check out this documentary which actually got me thinking about the issue.

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