March may be cold, but it's hot and heavy here at OnMilwaukee.com as we celebrate our first-ever Sex Week. We take a mature look at local video and sex toy shops, area strip clubs, sexy Milwaukee events -- and even some connections between Brew City and Playboy magazine. It's serious, responsible, adult-themed content -- but don't worry, we'll keep it PG-13 in case junior stumbles upon these stories as OnMilwaukee.com turns a pale blue for seven days.

It couldn't be Sex Week for me without writing something about Bettie Page. The '50s pin-up girl who eventually became a kitschy, cultural icon passed away in December from pneumonia. She suffered a heart attack the week before her death, and never regained consciousness.

I've been a big fan of Page for years. I have rocked the "Bettie bangs" on and off since high school and, eerily coincidentally, went as Page this past Halloween, just six weeks before she died.

Like many of her fans, it wasn't until her passing that I found out the sordid details of her existence after she stopped posing for the cameras. Her life, which started out sad due to her father's molestations, ended in the same way. After Page's death, a slew of articles reported that she was riddled with mental illness, divorced multiple times and prone to violent behavior.

I refuse to remember Page this way.

To me, Page was a symbol of sexiness, but even more so, a symbol of strength and choice during a time when most women were tied down with whippersnappers rather than tied up and cracking whips.

Page was shameless -- at least she appeared this way on camera -- and shame is a nasty emotion that's bound to low self-esteem and controls many women's lives. Page beat the crap out of shame. Squelched it with the heels of her stilettos.

But Page also had a sweetness that made her even more appealing and interesting. When I see Page's image on a mug or a T-shirt or a Zippo lighter, I always think two things about Page: that she was fierce and demure. Truly both leopard and kitten.