Big Bathrooms, Heavy Silverware, and Powerwashing: 11 Nonsexual Things That Turn Us On

There’s a moment in an early season episode of Parks and Recreation where Leslie Knope talks about “taking risks.” It makes her feel “amazing.” She feels “flushed”; she says, “My muscles are relaxed yet I feel awake…I wish there was something physical that could make me feel this way.” We’re all adults here, we get the implied punchline. But I’ve thought about that line on and off for years—not about how pathetic it is (sorry, Leslie) but how, actually, yes, there are a host of nonsexual things that can, if you’re lucky, imitate some of the best feelings we as humans experience behind closed doors.

In honor of Horny Week, we set out to document that phenomenon (or at least take a survey of our staff). Just like actual sexual attraction, the nonsexual things that give us those happy, horny, hungry-yet-satisfied feelings run the gamut, though there do seem to be a few trends: objects or spaces that imply luxury; books; and cleanliness and organizing. We’re not afraid to admit it: These things make us horny. As the kids say, please drop your own nonsexual horny thoughts in the comments below.

Read the rest of Jezebel’s Horny Week 2023 stories here.

Yeah, this is about showing skin, but it’s not sexual, and especially not on day four of not shaving your legs. It’s mathematical. You see, there are perfect ratios of sneaker height to sock height, and sock height to skin gap to wide-leg pant length. (See above.) I love my high-top white sneakers (props to Nothing New), and I like letting about an inch of a Dickies men’s gray mid-crew sock peak out the top of them. However, as a woman with long legs, my jeans are always dangerously close to presenting as capris (miss ’em). But I can’t wear super-long socks to close up the ankle skin gap—that’d look absurd. Nor do high-tops really come any higher. So I fiddle with pant styles or I show too much ankle skin. Life is hard! But when I hit that golden ratio, I’m freakin’ walking on sunshine and shit. That confidence feels great. It’s stylistic nirvana. —Sarah Rense

Videos of powerwashers in action are porn to me. Seeing a dirty sidewalk or siding on a house get pummeled into an instant facelift is both mesmerizing and titillating. Perhaps it’s because I spend too much time online and I would like to powerwash the inside of my brain so I can live what I presume is the lovely existence of people who don’t know all the ways the New York Times promotes anti-trans agendas, or what “GamerGate” is. Regardless, when I see one of these videos, the pleasure centers in my brain light up as I smile and let out a breath. —Susan Rinkunas

Some people like the bliss of a feather tickler running gently along their back. Others like the pain of painted talons digging into their skin. But I like the feeling of a fine tip pen gliding effortlessly along the dotted lines of my journals. In fact, I’m getting aroused just imagining crawling in bed to scribble words that won’t bleed through to the next page or smear as I go. Not only do I find pens—cold, lifeless objects though they are—to be inexplicably sexy, I find those who don’t experience titillation in the process of putting pen to paper to be totally unserious and sexless. Writing is a tactile activity: You are using a tool to leave behind a perfect trail of ink, without a trace of a mess. Can you think of any other activities where you manipulate a tool until it spills a little ink? Then add a fine tip, which allows you to maneuver and express yourself with finesse: something like a Pilot G-2 Gel Pen, a SAKURA Pigma Micron Fineliner Pen, or, if you’re the fussy type and have over $200 to spend, a Montblanc. Now that’s something worth working up a sweat over. —Emily Leibert

There is nothing in this life that inspires more joy and non-sexual horniness for me than being at the bookstore, at the cafe, at the combination bookstore and cafe. The sheer energy of being at a bookstore—especially an indie one filled with plants and maybe a cat or two—nourishes my soul; you are quite literally surrounded by stories and possibilities. I could spend all day at a bookstore, but that would require them to have food and beverages. And that’s where bookstore-cafes come in. They are simply a perfect invention, and I would turn down sexual encounters with 99% of prospective partners to spend an afternoon by myself in one of these bad boys instead. —Kylie Cheung

In my first media job, I was assigned to cover a women’s car rally from Paris to St. Tropez sponsored by Richard Mille—that is, the luxury watch brand. Of course, it was a lush trip consisting of stays at lush French resorts and attended by lush people…with the exception of me. One of the many perks was flying first-class from New York to Paris. I vividly remember feeling immediately embarrassed while boarding the flight. For starters, I was booked for the very first pod, meaning I’d have to look every single passenger in the eye as they moved toward their assigned seat in steerage. Secondly, I was woefully underdressed; I hadn’t gotten the memo from the woman seated next to me—clad in a tweed Chanel suit—that an overnight flight in first class required something a little more fabulous than an elastic waistband.