Venus Rising: Four Short Stories of Sex, Strong Women, Defiance & Liberation
By Steve Starr
S+G+P Publishing
Our recently launched publishing arm, S+G+P Publishing, are pleased to announce our first release: Venus Rising: Four Short Stories of Sex, Strong Women, Defiance & Liberation by emerging Melbourne author Eden Étoile (edited by Steve Starr).
Venus Rising: Four Short Stories of Sex, Strong Women, Defiance & Liberation, are stories where Étoile conjures a shimmering series of explicit sexual encounters where four women, Rowena, Corrine, Catherine & Mia, embark on journeys of self-discovery in order to wrestle control over their own their bodies, their sexuality and their agency. They enter a libertine world where women dominate and challenge patriarchal social mores, sexist attitudes and conservatism through sex positive feminist erotica film and performance.
Rowena, Corrine, Catherine & Mia engage in a social sexual exploration of female sexuality, fantasy and freedom while surrounding themselves with strong, supportive allies, partners and friends. They all inhabit an underworld of libertinism, cosplay, sex, pleasure and freedom. But the heavy hand of the government censorship, the Obscenity Law and religion target them. They engage these forces fearlessly, batting the tempest that besiege their tribe.
In doing so, this community of libertines open doors that could never be closed again, doors that led to a world of pleasure, exploration, liberation and self-discovery. The stories take place in Sydney & New York. But it quite easily be Paris, Berlin or London. Anywhere there are undergrounds of wanton rebels.
Where they dared to come out despite being labelled sluts, whores and wanton. They used the only weapon they had: themselves. They are women who dared to be seen in a world that wanted them hidden. Who turned shame into spectacle.
eBook & softcover analogue are available KDP.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GTVL69MC?ref=sp_email
Biography
Eden Étoile is a published writer, curator, musician and artist who lives in Melbourne, Australia and their second home in London, UK.
This is Eden’s first published work. Eden is currently writing their first novel ‘Sex Film: The Rise of Rowena Faintly’ that is scheduled for release in later 2026 with S+G+P Publishing.
Eden works in the animation/ film industry.
Eden was educated at The University of Sydney & The University of the Arts London.
The NGV’s Westwood
By Steve Starr
S+G+P Publishing
The NGV’s Westwood | Kawakubo exhibition feels less like a polite stroll through fashion history and more like stepping into a spirited argument—one conducted in tulle, tartan, and the occasional aggressively sculptural silhouette. It’s a meeting of minds that never actually met in practice but seem to be in constant conversation here: Vivienne Westwood, Britain’s high priestess of punk, and Rei Kawakubo, fashion’s most enigmatic philosopher. But if Kawakubo supplies the quiet provocation, Westwood arrives with a megaphone—and frankly, she steals the room.
Westwood’s work hits you first with its theatricality. Corsets burst into the gallery space like declarations rather than garments; crinolines are twisted, exaggerated, reimagined with a kind of gleeful irreverence. There’s a sense that history itself is her fabric—18th-century silhouettes sliced up and stitched back together with punk defiance. You don’t just see references to the past; you see them being interrogated, mocked, and lovingly reassembled all at once.
What’s striking is how alive her designs feel. Even behind glass, they seem mid-strut, as if they might step down and start an argument about the monarchy or climate change. That tension—between historical romance and outright rebellion—is where Westwood thrives. She doesn’t reject tradition; she hijacks it.
And then there’s the politics, woven so tightly into her work it’s impossible to separate the message from the medium. Westwood was never content to let fashion be decorative. From her early days dressing the Sex Pistols to her later environmental activism, her clothes function as wearable manifestos. Slogans, subversion, and satire run through the garments like a second stitching. In the NGV show, this comes through not just in text-heavy pieces but in the very attitude of the designs: confrontational, questioning, unwilling to behave.
One particularly compelling thread is her critique of consumerism—a slightly delicious irony given the museum setting. Westwood’s later work, with its emphasis on sustainability and “buy less, choose well,” lands differently when surrounded by carefully preserved luxury objects. Yet it doesn’t feel hypocritical; if anything, it sharpens the point. These are clothes meant to provoke thought, not just desire.
In contrast to Kawakubo’s often cerebral abstraction, Westwood’s pieces feel almost conversational. They invite you in, then challenge you to keep up. There’s humour here too—cheeky proportions, unexpected clashes, a wink behind the rebellion. She understands that to make people listen, you sometimes have to make them laugh first.
The exhibition ultimately frames Westwood not just as a designer but as a cultural agitator. Her fashion isn’t about dressing the body so much as arming it—with ideas, with attitude, with a refusal to comply. Walking through her section, you get the sense that she’s still arguing, still pushing, still insisting that fashion can—and should—matter.
And in a gallery context that often risks turning radical work into something politely archival, Westwood remains gloriously, stubbornly alive.
1975: Living in the Seventies – Exhibition Review
By Steve Starr
S+G+P Publishing
Stepping into the National Library of Australia’s exhibition 1975: Living in the Seventies feels like slipping through a beaded curtain into a world of flared denim, political upheaval and cultural reinvention. Marking fifty years since one of the most transformative years in Australian—and global—history, the exhibition offers a vivid, multi layered portrait of a society in flux. It’s nostalgic, yes, but never sentimental; instead, it’s a sharp, immersive reminder of how the mid 70s shaped the country we know today.
The exhibition frames 1975 as the midpoint of a tumultuous decade, a year defined by both creative explosion and political crisis. Visitors are greeted with iconic photographs from the Library’s collections—images of suburban life, fashion, and protest that instantly set the tone. Wolfgang Sievers’ photography, including scenes from Western Australia and Victoria, captures the era’s blend of optimism and grit.
But the exhibition doesn’t shy away from the darker, more dramatic currents of the year. The dismissal of the Whitlam government looms large, presented not as a dry civics lesson but as a seismic cultural moment that shook a generation. Internationally, the end of the Vietnam War and the independence of Papua New Guinea are contextualised through photographs, news clippings, and personal accounts, underscoring how global events reverberated through Australian society.
The women’s liberation movement also receives thoughtful attention. Archival posters, publications, and interviews highlight the era’s challenges to long held assumptions about gender roles. It’s a reminder that the 1970s were not just about big hair and bigger collars—they were about big ideas. The highlight here is the Carol Jerrems photograph titled Vale Street, undoubtedly the best-known photograph in history of Australian art. The image depicts a topless women flanked by two quite malevolent men, sharpies. The image is reinforced by her commanding presence, her direct gaze and the ankh pendent around her neck. The ancient Egyptian symbol for ‘life‘ was adopted by Second Wave feminists.
Of course, no 1970s exhibition would be complete without the fashion. Burnt orange palettes, platform shoes, and flared jeans are lovingly showcased, alongside the rise of mass market retail culture captured in Sievers’ photographs of Target stores and suburban shopping centres. These everyday artefacts ground the exhibition, making it feel lived in rather than abstract.
One of the exhibition’s strengths is its use of personal voices. TV icon Denise Drysdale, who appears in opening night programming, offers reflections on the era’s television, fashion, feminism, and politics—adding a warm, human dimension to the archival material.
If the 1970s had a soundtrack, Countdown provided it—and the exhibition revels in this. Glam rockers Skyhooks, the irresistible rise of ABBA, and the arrival of colour television all feature prominently, reminding visitors how rapidly Australian pop culture was evolving.
Film buffs will appreciate nods to Picnic at Hanging Rock, Sunday Too Far Away, and the international hits Jaws and The Rocky Horror Picture Show, all of which shaped the cinematic landscape of 1975.
If the 1970s had a soundtrack, Countdown provided it—and the exhibition revels in this. Glam rockers Skyhooks, the irresistible rise of ABBA, and the arrival of colour television all feature prominently, reminding visitors how rapidly Australian pop culture was evolving. A prominent object in the exhibition is the Double Jay Rock ‘1540’ poster that heralded the birth youth radio on Sunday 19 January 1975. Double Jay evolved into Triple J FM.
If there’s a criticism to be made of the exhibition, it lies less in its execution and more in the inherent limitations of history as curated by state funded institutions. The show—and its accompanying publication—suffers from a kind of conscious amnesia, sidestepping the more unruly cultural forces that defined the era. Punk barely rates a mention, the sexual revolution is reduced to a footnote despite its centrality to the women’s movement, and the brief but significant mainstream incursion of pornographic cinema is entirely absent. These omissions feel less like oversights and more like strategic silences. It’s hard to escape the sense that the National Library is steering clear of anything that might provoke discomfort within Canberra’s conservative political ecosystem.
Overall, 1975: Living in the Seventies succeeds because it balances nostalgia with nuance. It invites visitors to revel in the music, fashion, and pop culture of the decade while also confronting the political and social upheavals that defined it. For anyone interested in how Australia became Australia, this exhibition is more than a trip down memory lane—it’s a cultural time capsule with real contemporary resonance.
Annette Haven: The Golden‑Age Icon Who Helped Redefine Feminism and Sexual Freedom
Annette Haven: The Golden‑Age Icon Who Helped Redefine
Feminism and Sexual Freedom
By Steve Starr
S+G+P Publishing
Annette Haven may not be a familiar name to younger readers today, but in the 1970s and early 1980s she was one of the most influential figures of the Golden Age of adult cinema. Her relevance now isn’t about nostalgia—it’s about the way she claimed autonomy, respect, and a feminist voice in a space that rarely offered women any of those things. Her rise unfolded during a cultural turning point. The sexual revolution was challenging long‑held norms, second‑wave feminism was reshaping women’s rights, and debates about censorship, sexuality, and empowerment were everywhere. Haven didn’t just witness that moment—she became part of the international conversation. From Mormon Roots to Self‑Determination Born in Las Vegas in 1954 and raised in a Mormon household, Haven’s early life was defined by strict expectations. Leaving home as a young woman, she worked as a nurse’s aide and later as an exotic dancer—jobs that offered financial independence and a clear view of the economics of women’s labour. These experiences shaped her belief in autonomy and self‑definition, themes that would become central to her later work.
A Star of the Golden Age Haven entered the adult film industry in 1973, just as theatrical adult films were gaining mainstream attention. Shot on 35mm and screened in cinemas, these films often had plots, characters, and ambitions beyond simple titillation. Performers became public figures, interviewed in magazines and discussed in mainstream media. Haven quickly emerged as one of the era’s most respected stars. Over her career, she appeared in more than 200 productions and earned a reputation for professionalism, intelligence, and firm personal boundaries. Directors valued her reliability; co‑stars admired her clarity and confidence. Audiences connected with her “girl‑next‑door” presence, but it was her assertiveness that set her apart. She was selective about roles, insisted on safe and respectful sets, and walked away from situations that didn’t meet her standards. In an industry where women often had little control, Haven’s insistence on agency was quietly revolutionary. Her talent was recognised with awards, including Best Actress at the 1975 X‑Caliber Awards for China Girl and Best Supporting Actress at the AFAA Awards for Coming of Angels (1977). She also made cameo appearances in mainstream films such as Blake Edwards’s 10 (1979) and Brian De Palma’s Body Double (1984), signalling a brief but meaningful crossover into Hollywood.
A Feminist Voice in an Unlikely Place Haven’s feminist significance doesn’t come from academic writing or organised activism. It comes from the way she lived and spoke about her choices. During the 1970s, feminism was deeply divided over pornography. Some activists saw it as inherently exploitative; others argued that sexual expression could be empowering. Haven aligned with the latter.
Her feminist impact can be understood through several key principles:
• Agency — She negotiated her own boundaries and expected them to be respected.
• Autonomy — Her interviews challenged stereotypes about adult performers.
• Sexual empowerment — She argued that women could be sexual on their own terms, without shame.
• Visibility — By speaking publicly about her work, she helped humanise adult performers.
•Her feminism was practical, embodied, and rooted in personal autonomy.
A Symbol of Cultural Change The sexual revolution was about more than free love—it was about challenging the idea that women’s sexuality should be controlled or moralised. Haven became a symbol of this shift: a woman comfortable with her desires, confident in her choices, and unwilling to let society dictate what she could or couldn’t do with her own body. Adult films of the era were reviewed in newspapers, screened in theatres, and discussed in mainstream magazines. Performers like Haven became part of a national conversation about censorship, morality, and personal freedom. Her presence in that conversation mattered. She wasn’t just participating in the sexual revolution—she was helping to shape it. A Personal Note I first connected with Annette Haven while researching an essay on the sexual revolution during my Master of Art degree in 2019. Over time, our conversations became regular, and I now think of her as an “online friend”—sharp, warm, funny, and strong‑willed. These days we talk more about politics, music, and the absurdity of fake autographed photos of her sold online than about her career. Her humour is as disarming as her honesty.
A Legacy That Endures Annette Haven’s legacy extends far beyond her filmography. She helped shift cultural perceptions of sexuality, autonomy, and the role of women in the adult entertainment industry. Her influence can still be felt in sex‑positive feminism, body‑positive culture, and contemporary conversations about agency and consent. Her story is a reminder that feminist icons don’t always emerge from expected places. Sometimes they come from the margins, challenging norms simply by living authentically and refusing to be silenced. Annette Haven didn’t just participate in the sexual revolution—she helped shape its legacy. And in doing so, she carved out a place in feminist history that deserves to be remembered.
Brigitte Lahaie: The French Icon Who Transformed Erotic Cinema
and Rewrote the Rules of On‑Screen Desire
Brigitte Lahaie: The French Icon Who Transformed Erotic Cinema and Rewrote the Rules of On‑Screen Desire
By Steve Starr
S+G+P Publishing
Brigitte Lahaie is one of the most recognisable figures in the history of European erotic cinema, yet her legacy extends far beyond the films that made her famous. In France, she is regarded not only as a Golden‑Age star but as a cultural figure who helped shift public attitudes toward sexuality, female desire, and the legitimacy of erotic storytelling. Her career—spanning adult film, horror cinema, radio broadcasting, and authorship—offers a rare portrait of a woman who refused to be defined by a single role or a single era. From Rural France to the Cinemas of Paris Born in 1955 in Tourcoing, in northern France, Lahaie grew up far from the glamour of Parisian film sets. She moved to the capital as a young woman in search of independence and opportunity, arriving just as France was undergoing its own cultural transformation. The relaxation of censorship laws in the mid‑1970s created a brief but explosive boom in erotic cinema, and Lahaie entered the industry at the moment it was becoming both mainstream and artistically ambitious. Her early films were part of a uniquely French approach to erotic storytelling—stylised, narrative‑driven, and often infused with surrealism or psychological tension. Lahaie quickly became one of the most recognisable faces of the genre, known for her striking presence, emotional intelligence, and the quiet authority she brought to her roles.
A Performer Who Defied Expectations What set Lahaie apart was not simply her beauty or screen charisma, but her seriousness about the work. She approached erotic performance with the discipline of a dramatic actor, insisting that sexuality on screen could be expressive, meaningful, and even poetic. Directors valued her professionalism; audiences responded to her authenticity. She appeared in more than 100 films during the late 1970s, becoming one of the most prominent stars of the French erotic wave. Yet even at the height of her fame, she resisted being reduced to a stereotype. Lahaie spoke openly about her choices, her boundaries, and her belief that erotic cinema could be a legitimate artistic form. In a culture that often-dismissed adult performers, her intelligence and candour challenged assumptions about who could be taken seriously in public life. Reinvention and the Move into Mainstream Cinema Lahaie’s transition into mainstream film remains one of the most remarkable aspects of her career. When the French erotic boom collapsed in the early 1980s, many performers were pushed to the margins. Lahaie, however, reinvented herself. Her breakthrough came through her collaboration with director Jean Rollin, a cult figure in French fantastique cinema. Rollin cast her in several of his atmospheric horror films, including Fascination (1979), where her performance revealed a dramatic depth that surprised critics. She went on to work with respected directors such as Claude Mulot and Jean‑Pierre Mocky, proving that her talent extended far beyond the erotic genre.
This crossover was not merely a career pivot—it was a cultural statement. Lahaie demonstrated that a woman could emerge from adult cinema and still be taken seriously as an artist, a public figure, and a storyteller. A Public Voice on Sexuality and Autonomy In the 1990s and 2000s, Lahaie became a prominent radio host, known for her candid discussions about relationships, intimacy, and sexual wellbeing. Her broadcasts reached millions and helped normalise open conversations about desire, consent, and emotional connection. She also published novels and essays, further establishing herself as a thoughtful commentator on sexuality and human behaviour. Her public voice has always been grounded in a belief that women should define their own desires and their own narratives. She has spoken frequently about agency, self‑respect, and the importance of rejecting shame—ideas that resonate strongly with contemporary sex‑positive feminism. Lahaie currently hosts a weekly program ‘Brigitte Lahaie’ on Sud Radio, France.
A Legacy of Complexity and Courage Brigitte Lahaie’s legacy is one of reinvention, resilience, and cultural impact. She helped shape the aesthetics of European erotic cinema, expanded the possibilities for performers seeking mainstream recognition, and became a public advocate for open, honest conversations about sexuality. Her story complicates the boundaries between genres, between art and eroticism, and between public perception and personal truth. She stands as a reminder that women in erotic cinema have often been far more than the roles they played—they have been innovators, cultural barometers, and, in Lahaie’s case, enduring voices in national conversation. Her career invites us to reconsider what empowerment looks like, and how women can reclaim and redefine their own narratives—even in industries that have historically tried to define them.