I just spent two nights partying in a latex underworld…
Vancouver Fetish Weekend is upon us, wrapping up today with a (surely tantalizing) boat cruise. This weekend has been filled to the rim (no pun intended) with hedonistic, uninhibited, unadulterated, consensual kink, sex and bondage. What an incredible experience.
This weekend was thrust upon me unexpectedly. I did not seek it out. A friend tagged me in a Facebook thread seeking models for a fetish fashion show, and since I am honoring and exploring my interest in modeling and media, I signed up. This got me a pass to the weekend’s parties… I may as well check it out wholeheartedly.
“No Effort, No Entry!” the sign reads at the door. This is no ordinary evening out; one cannot just stroll up in their usual club garb, no, there is an expectation of wardrobe participation. Latex. Rope. Jockstraps. Corsets. Mask. Heels. Fishnets. Harnesses. Horns. Leather. Collars. Leashes. Gloves. Metal. And on and on. This, my friends, was my sandbox. What an opportunity to get creative, get funky, and get liberated.
The atmosphere is unusual. There is not an ounce of judgement, for one. The community is clearly warm-hearted, accepting and supportive. Like minds embracing like minds. There is an appreciation for each others’ presence. Respect for the mutual, effortful expression of each sexual self. The air is abuzz with sexual tension as fantasies and desires are made manifest.
The rule is simple. Follow the rules. No texting, no pictures. What a gift to be out on the dance floor, in a nightlife space, and not see dozens of people on their phones!
Do not touch unless consent is given… A much respected rule in my experience. Dressing provocatively and expressing oneself sexually is not an invitation to be groped, and it was clear to me that this was inherent within the crowd. I felt the respect in the room… Even for those suspended from the rafters.
It was a challenge for me, though. Part of me didn’t know how to “fit.” And while I appeared as though I was not new to the scene, I certainly felt like I was. My nights out are usually to gay clubs; I rarely go to straight spaces. Part of me doesn’t feel as safe in straight spaces… Like I am somehow on edge, inhibited, and repressed. I felt this “straight edge” this weekend. The fetish scene is confusing me in this regard and I am not quite sure how to express it. I find discomfort in uncertainty, and this scene seems to scream uncertainty.
A friend left the Fetish Ball last night because it “was too straight” for him. I get it. But is it? Or is it just different? I think the beauty of this subculture is that it is not in a tiny box… The strict labels are relaxed. Gender and sexual expression are clearly more fluid in these spaces. However, there were few obviously “gay” men or couples there, and for people who find comfort in visible gayness, I can understand the discomfort that it brings. I saw men kissing men, but then saw those men kissing women, who were themselves then kissing women. How can I be certain who in the crowd is ripe for the picking? How do I fit in here? Can I? Yes.
Now, this fashion show allowed me to experience latex in a whole new way. We were modeling a line of creations by Dawnamatrix, which were fabulous works of art. Everything was made of latex… And latex is not the easiest thing to get on… Not without lube anyways. The walls of the backstage area were covered floor-to-ceiling in plastic to protect from damaging the walls with the litres of lube that were used to get dressed. Lube. Lube. Lube. “Where’s the lube! I need more lube!” Quite an unusual modeling gig, let me tell you… There is nothing quite like wearing a suit made of latex. The texture. The constriction. The sound. The sweat… I understand the fetish.
The last two nights I had to take the N19 night bus home… And this bus is reserved for partygoers and drunks. There I sat, covered in glitter, lube and makeup, looking like a raver gone off the deepend. I rarely take this bus, because I rarely have reason to stay out that late. This says a lot about how captivating and exciting the Vancouver Fetish scene is.
There is so much talent and creativity in this city; it’s really quite astounding. I’m happy to have had this experience, and am curious to explore this in more detail. I’m pretty sure I won’t be the one tied to the rafter, or gagged and strapped to a chair… I’m far too controlling. But who knows. This scene is an invitation to yourself. It allows us to stretch the bounds of our comfort, to immerse into the unknown underworld of our desires, to release parts of ourselves laying trapped and dormant within our ego…
I did a BDSM test a while back, and it turned out that I am quite Vanilla. Maybe now I’m slightly more Rocky Road.
What’s my fetish? Finding myself. Losing myself. Knowing myself. And, today, after this colourful weekend, I know myself a little bit more. I suppose there’s a kink in my chain after all. And who knew I could throw down so hard in a pair of heels… Have not danced so hard in a long while. #Slayed
…so many men in heels. It’s like heaven. #HeelFetish