Jennifer Pinkerton - Heartland: What is the future of modern love?

Jennifer Pinkerton is a writer, photographer and producer. Shes written stories and journalism for The Guardian, National Geographic, the UK Telegraph, the Courier-Mail, the Canberra Times and Qantas magazine, among other publications. Previously, she worked as a federal press-gallery gofer; as a features editor on a health magazine; and as an editor and writer on art, architecture and women-focused titles. Shes also helped launch live storytelling events, including the Top Ends Spun: True Tales Told in the Territory, and Canberras first Language Party, which celebrated the United Nations International Year of Indigenous Languages. Jennifer has exhibited her photography in Perth, Canberra and Darwin, holds a doctorate in creative arts and teaches at Charles Darwin University. She lives in the Northern Territory with her good matesheat and humidity.

Only One, written by Daniel Cunningham, Fabian Kantilla and Jeffrey Simon SFM Publishing Pty Ltd Courtesy of Skinnyfish Music. Licensed by Sony Music Publishing (Australia) Pty Limited. International copyright secured. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

First published in 2022

Copyright Jennifer Pinkerton 2022

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

83 Alexander Street

Crows Nest NSW 2065

Australia

Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

Email:

Web: www.allenandunwin.com

ISBN 978 1 76087 840 5

eISBN 978 1 76106 131 8

Internal design by Simon Paterson, Bookhouse

Set by Bookhouse, Sydney

Cover design: Laura Thomas

Cover illustration: Angelina Bambina/Shutterstock

FOR

Kerri-Anne Pinkerton

The queen of my heartland

This book includes candid interviews about sex, love, dating and commitment. Largely, but not exclusively, these centre on Generation Z (born after 1996) and millennials or Generation Y (born between 1980 and 1996).

Generational groups are used here as they offer a helpful way to acknowledge the social and cultural influences that shape young peoples outlooks at given times in recent history. These markers make broad generalisations about attitudes; they certainly dont apply to all individuals labelled millennial, Gen Z, Gen X or baby boomer.

To protect identities, and unless otherwise agreed, the names of young people sharing personal experiences have been changed, as have those of my neighbours and partners. On occasion, and with permission, a persons nickname or their alternative name is used. When people share particularly private or intimate stories, such as those involving sex and pornography, potentially identifying details have in some cases also been changed.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF COUNTRY

Heartland was written on Ngunawal, Yuin and Larrakia Countries. I acknowledge their traditional owners, the first storytellers and artists. I pay my respects and thank them for their care and custodianship of these bush, coastal and saltwater lands.

Stump, 30, tugs at the skin near her brows and leans in close to her laptop. With coffee-coloured eyes cast skyward, she rubs sleep from her lids and tries to look more awake. For a second it feels like Im peeping through a dressing-room mirror as she readies her face for the stage.

She shifts around on my screen, trying to find a comfortable sitting position, and I can see that her rental sits high above the street. Beyond her window is a sweep of war-era apartments. This could be any European metropolis, yet its Berlin. Its May, and its misty.

Hi Stumpy! I call, waiting for my voice to worm its way to her ears.

*Pause*

Heeeeeey! she replies, flashing her newly aligned smile. Im still getting used to the way she looks without braces.

Since shes moved abroad, Stump has grown her hair long. It runs past her shoulders and stops just shy of her breasts. Her fringe is blunt and wispy.

This morning, my night-time, she looks like an ex-pat New Zealander from sitcom Flight of the Conchords. She wears a kitschy cream-and-red jumper with reindeer encircling the neck. Shes pulled its sleeves all the way down to her fingertips. A tall white mug, the kind youd find abandoned in a workplace kitchen, steams with hot black tea.

Reluctantly, with my gaze fixed away from the camera, I tell her about my mum. This Zoom situation works well because shell do all the talking. Shes kind and sympathetic. She says shes always happy to rise at 7 am for me, and that shell share, among other things, her weirdest sex stories.

Ive followed Stumps love and sex life for years now. First as a friend, hearing all the stories and ups and downs, and later more rigorously for my research. But even if I wasnt compiling this book, Id still be talking to Stump about her adventures because theyre a carnival of new to me. Kink parties. Sexy Snapchats. Dating through Tinder as a couple. Dating on Tinder full stop.

At the moment shes stuck in lockdown. But just before it all hitthe pandemic, the masks, the empty streetsStump discovered the sex club scene.

So, you ready to hear about KitKat? she says. It. Was. Amazing.

Wait! I need a wine for this, I say. The last time we spoke, I was wearing my contacts and they got super dry and sticky. I could barely see you through the blur. I was like *wizard voice* keep going I wouldnt get up from my chair. This time Im gonna be prepared.

Okay, grab your wine. Ill get my jar of Nutella. Lets jump straight to weird.

I dash from the room, open the pantry, and watch a red wine waterfall as it drops and pools in my glass.

Before the kink and KitKat, theres the Northern Territory.

Stump is 24. On a dazzling dry-season day in Darwin we order pots of tea from her university caf. Her eyes are lined in black pencil, winged with cat-eye flicks. Her voice is low and urgent.

She slides her phone across the table. Check these guys out, she says. The screen glows with her Tinder feed. It shows a picture of a bloke in a tinny on the water. Hes holding a barramundi. Justin, 25. Catch me if you can.

Nup. Swipe left, she instructs.

The next picture is a gym selfie. Tim, 31. Im everything your mother wanted for you and then some.

Left again!

This third guy is squatting beside a boar. It looks dead. Oh. It is dead. Kane, 28. All about the bacon. My eyes widen into full moons. Why is this guy posing with hunting kill?

This guy? she laughs. Its practically all of them! Territory boys! You know the saying, The odds are good, but the goods are odd.