Television is our most pervasive representation of a shared "cultural space" within which the allocation of social value is negotiated. This study traces the efforts of one social group, Viewers for Quality Television, in their attempts to contest the distribution of cultural space on television. Data collection included a survey of 1107 members, a series of focus groups, participant observation, and textual analysis. Since the group is composed of television fans, the project also develops a theoretical framework within which to view fandom: what produces fandom, what its role in popular culture is, what practices distinguish fans from each other, and who is likely to be a fan. Using a sociology of culture perspective, fandom is reconceptualized as a spectrum of practices engaged in to develop a sense of personal control or influence over the object of fandom (such as a star or text). Fans may be seen as members of subordinated social groups who try to align themselves with meanings embodied in stars or other texts that best express their own sense of social identity. However, there are widely varying degrees of involvement in fan practices oriented toward this alignment, and this variance is associated with different outcomes. The most important finding is that for these fans, the more involved one is in fan practices, the more one comes to feel one is empowered with a sense of control over the television industry, regardless of whether or not one's efforts to influence the object of fandom have been successful. In addition, how much one enjoys television is positively and significantly associated with degree of involvement in fan practices as well as one's perception of influence. The process of asserting one's social values and "tastes" within the television programming structure is politicized and class-driven. If social values (therefore, tastes) are expressed via social identity, one would expect to see this demonstrated in cultural preferences. The membership of VQT (and of most fan groups) is overwhelmingly female, and inasmuch as this comprises a specific form of social identity for members, not surprisingly the group has a strong implicit taste agenda oriented toward protecting and enlarging representations of women on television.

This study considers the history and cultural specificity of women-owned sex stores in the United States, and the particular model of sexual retailing that has evolved alongside these businesses—what I refer to as the Good Vibrations model, a “tasteful,” educationally based, and quasi-therapeutic approach to selling sex toys designed to appeal “especially but not exclusively” to women. Drawing upon extensive participant observation research, in-depth interviews, and archival materials, I examine how discourses of sexual liberation, education, feminism, and consumer-capitalism coalesce within these retail environments, helping to establish what one proprietor describes as the “alternative sex vending movement.” I trace the emergence of public discourses about female masturbation and orgasm in the early seventies, and explore how these ideas were incorporated into sexual consciousness-raising groups, sex therapy programs and, eventually, women-run vibrator businesses. I analyze the underlying “sex positive” philosophies, representational strategies, and retail norms and practices that define the Good Vibrations model, and consider how ideas about gender, class, and sexual taste are mobilized by various storeowners and staff in an effort to cultivate “respectable” retail environments that stand in contrast to the stereotype of sex stores as inherently base and “sleazy.” I argue that for many women-owned sex toy stores in the US, including Good Vibrations and Toys in Babeland, the marketplace doubles as a platform for sex activism and education, which has enabled these businesses to carve out a distinct and profitable niche in the sexual marketplace. By way of contrast, I discuss the impact that anti-vibrator statutes have on sexual speech and retailing in Texas, one of several states in the US where it is illegal to sell sex toys. Despite the growth and commercial success of women's sex businesses over the past thirty years, my research suggests that there is nothing straightforward about practicing sexual politics through the market; indeed, it is a project fraught with challenges and contradictions as storeowners and staff attempt to negotiate the shifting terrain of identity politics on the one hand, and the tensions between feminism, consumer-capitalism, profitability, and social change on the other.