Mayfair clubs lubricate women with free alcohol and free entry.
I cannot help but wonder as women and as a feminist are we degrading or empowering ourselves by getting free entry to elitist Mayfair clubs, alongside unlimited drinks, and access to a promoter’s table – also full of other girls? These club spaces lubricate females with free drinks and with this false narrative of being ‘VIPs’. Women are pretty much currency to London’s elitist clubs and are sexualised and commodified. All the entry requirements regarding our appearance are shaped to please and satisfy the desires of heterosexual men who are the one’s spending and keeping these clubs open.
My birthday was approaching and I was trying to organise a night out for me and my squad. I usually would not specify the gender of my friends, but it seems that I should make it clear that friends, indeed, are a mix of guys and girls. I decided to reach out to a promoter I was Instagram friends with, he reached out to me a few months prior, and no doubt my account caught his eye from my “clean profile pic”. Anyway, I explained to him that I wanted to party at Cirque Le Soir to celebrate my 22nd birthday. Whilst he was very eager to host my girls and I, he definitely was not keen on the idea of boys. He made it clear that if I wanted to “party with a mixed group Cirque Le Soir isn’t suitable Tia.” Disappointed that without paying an extortionate amount, I would not be able to celebrate my birthday with my nearest and dearest, I tried to explain that “they’re no trouble, just party boys.”
Despite making plans to go with just my girls; it just didn’t feel right to bring in another year around the universe without my boys; we ditched the idea.
Though half a year later we tried again. December 2022, my best friend Bella’s 23rd birthday, we had just finished our meal at Sticks at Sushi, London King’s Road, and after lots of sashimi and lychee martinis, we were ready to really get the night started. Despite there being a decent number of local bars and clubs in Chelsea, this night we wanted to go out, out.
I still had contact with this promoter for Mayfair and Central clubs so I dropped him a message. He was quick to reply, ensuring it was “all ladies, all wearing heels.” This time we were a group of all girls, but one of us was wearing flat boots, not heeled; knowing this didn’t fit the dress code policy, we decided to go with a cheeky white lie that Lola had sprained her ankle.
But it was his next message which made us realise we are worth way more than some free watered-down vodka mixed with orange juice.
The promoter explained that we needed to send over pictures and our Instagram accounts, claiming that it was for the “purpose of recognition” – but that is what IDs are for – clearly this was about our appearance and making sure that we look good enough to qualify for the guest list.
It then clicked that this Mayfair shit was not for us. We wanted to have a carelessly good night, without being commodified. Without being analysed on our surfacing. It felt awfully degrading and we would rather spend our money and be relaxed at our own table with our own friends, our own drinks.
Looking for some hot and sexy specialist parties in London; whether you are into strippers, BDSM, whips and chains, being dominated, or queer parties; Powder has created an alluring and exciting guide to some of the hottest nightlife London has to offer. We hope this directs you to the perfect venue for you, whatever your fetish or fantasy may be.
But first! Before Powder brings you in on the best kink clubs in London, we want to ensure you approach these spaces in a respectful and safe way.
We spoke to Sex Educator and Ambassador for The Cage. co Veronica Saad to get a better understanding of BDSM, and so we could make sure you guys are physically and mentally prepared before entering the world of BDSM. The cagé.co is a friendly, kink-positive BDSM community, bringing together like-minded people. The Cage. Co is a safe space offering blogs, chat rooms, and events all over the world.
Now let’s get educated, I asked Veronica Saad some questions; starting with the basics.
What is BDSM?
“The acronym stands for bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism, and masochism.”
“I think it’s important to note that although BDSM can seem dark and mysterious at its heart, it is all about self-exploration and enjoyment, think of it as play for adults, a way for adults to dive into their fantasies, explore their depths and have fun.”
As a beginner; where would I begin?
“If you are not sure your interests, or how to be involved that’s fine, take your time and feel comfortable.”
“I recommend finding a community that can offer solid information and support. I work for the cage and it really is a great community of thousands of people from all over the world, you can chat with them, and ask questions. And remember that although we have loads of experienced members, many of them are going to be new to it all.”
What are BDSM rules?
“Just like rules in other areas of life, BDSM rules are anything that are expected of someone; rules to do something or rules to not do something. BDSM rules can be sexual but can also be simply practical. They can be for excitement or for general well-being. But most importantly they should be personal to your relationship and be agreed upon by all parties, add value to your dynamic and be enforced and regularly revisited.”
Can you give an example of BDSM rules?
“One example of BDSM rule might be prohibiting a submissive from drinking alcohol during the work week or expecting a submissive to kneel at the door when welcoming you home.”
How does the dominant come up with rules for BDSM:
“The best way is to treat it like a negotiating point with your submissive partner, sit down and have a discussion. Things like ‘what rules would you find hot? What rules do they have the time for? What rules will you be able to enforce?’ But I think the most important thing to consider is what rules are adding to the relationship instead of just becoming busy work.”
“Creating rules will take time and likely evolve as you go along.”
You mentioned that BDSM was for consenting adults only, could you share more on consent and how consent is ensured?
“Consent is integral to BDSM. The basic tenants of sex are the same in the world of kink as they are everywhere else. Your consent is required, you can revoke that consent at any time, and you cannot consent to something you are not fully aware of. Unless discussed, consent is never a given. Just because a dominant is a dominant does not mean they are automatically owed any special treatment.” All interactions even the most basic must be consented to ahead of time.”
What about group events?
“Consent is still required but it may work kind of differently. There are places you may go online or off where certain behaviour is expected. You consent to expected behaviour and protocols by attending or going to the event. But this does not override your ability to say no or leave the space. If any activity is not comfortable, consent can be revoked at any moment.”
Veronica explains that “when people start to enter the world of kink there is a lot of focus to the physical aspects of it: spanking, bondage, chastity, cages and more. Because of this, the mental aspects are something people develop later in their kink journey.”
What are some mental kinks in BDSM?
Mental bondage: “think of mental bondage like the exact bondage you know and love but without the need for any gear. Instead, mental bondage focuses on the bottom obeying a command to stay in place.”
Hypnosis: “In most portrayals a hypnosis professional talks a person into a hypnotic state where they may be more suggestible to ideas or better able to recall previous events. This type of activity can be done with an erotic or kink slant as well. Think orgasms, a deeper headspace, or a deeper immersion into roleplay roles.”
Roleplay: “Playing pretend can be an extremely erotic way to explore your scenes. Especially if you have always had kinks for different scenarios, like maybe prisoner/ guard, doctor/patient, props and gear make it easier to get immersed, but the role-play itself is entirely mental.”
Before we get into London Locations, here are some upcoming Cage. co events:
19/4/23 – ‘Cannabis, intimacy and kink’. This a stimulating and informative class on various ways to include your cannabis consumption with your sex and kink life!
20/4/23 – A dungeon dating event – introduction to impact play and restraints @ Centair Studios Hackney, 256 Hackney Road, London E2 7SJ.
22/4.23 – Unruly – a social for fat people in BDSM – unruly is a space for fat people involved or interested in the kink scene to come together and socialise @ The Hackney Den, Dalston N16B 8BX.
Now for the Locations.
THE BOX:
Entering The Box, brace yourself for the unruly and unknown.
You will never experience the same thing twice at The Box, they do different shows on different nights.
I spoke to four friends who had all experienced a night out at the box on different occasions. Firstly, I spoke to Farah Thorndycraft, (22, Coulsdon).
Farah tells Powder that the night she visited the box “this guy pulls out a dildo from his ass, and it was like covered in blood; it was so gross…then we had someone shaving their willy and their balls on stage like their pubes were going over everyone in the front row.” ”Then they took off their dressing gown and they had like massive tits.”. the show certainly didn’t stop there; Farah then witnessed this guy on stage “who had a load of umm like is dwarfs the right word to use, in gimp suits like attacking this guy, oh it was so weird.”
She ends by letting us know that she feels like her experience “was quite tame to what everyone else had experienced there.”
“Box is brazy” Max Morell, (23, Tooting) tells us; “I saw a lady put different colour paint in her … then squirt it out onto shirts and people were buying the t-shirts”
Finally, Seshi (23, Bristol) adds that his experience at The Box “was pretty mad”. “Basically, this trans person comes on stage and starts doing a strip tease around a toilet. Then they reached into the toilet and started rubbing fake shit on their tits. Then they grabbed a plunger and started fucking their ass with it lol. It was kinda fucked”
TORTURE GARDEN:
Before even bothering to attend a Torture Garden event, please leave any bad attitudes at home
Torture Garden is the biggest and best when it comes to fetish parties, hosting events monthly in London, and also in their franchises worldwide. Make sure you are dressed to impress; don’t be scared to show off some flesh and leather is a must. The underground dungeons are filled with dominatrixes; who are not afraid to give you a whipping if that’s what you’re into.
KLUB VERB OTEN:
Provider of contemporary sex-positive spaces.
“KLUB VERBOTEN launched in 2016 and is a provider of contemporary sex-positive spaces. Provider of contemporary sex-positive spaces. Our roots lie in the spatial, sonic, and visual exploration of BDSM + fetish practices,”
There are rules, safeguarding, and dress codes. Make sure to follow.
KILLING KITTENS
‘Liberating women worldwide, Killing Kittens is a shame-free community for dating, sex ed and so much more (Killing Kittens.com)
“A bold and empowering brand that spoke to sexually adventurous women, men and couples who were looking for more. Killing Kittens famous hedonistic events challenge society’s shameful stigmas around sex. – ‘(https://wearekk.com)
BIZARRE EVENTS – Walthamstow, London
‘Fetish.com’ claims bizarre events organise ‘London’s most extreme fetish sex parties, whether you’re a lover of latex, a fan of flogging or a wet and wild water sports enthusiast”; it seems like bizarre events might be the perfect hosts for you.
Stick Club
Embrace your naughty side, meet like-minded people with the same kinks as you, and party the night away in a safe and sexy place.
"Pill popping is as far as I've come to absolute perfect bliss."
What does it feel like to be in the throes of MDMA? One man’s rise and fall from a trip on Mandy. As told to Zandi Mlotshwa by an anonymous raver boy.
1. The Come Up
“
The best and worst substance that I’ve ever taken is MDMA.
People obviously talk about heroin and crack, and I have considered modest doses of meth and GHB just to kind of dip my toes in the chem session scene – if you don’t know what that is, it’s a naughty gay sex thing. But as a cheeky-chappy raver boy, I think pill popping is as far as I’ve come so far to feeling absolute unadulterated bliss.
MDMA is both a hallucinogenic and a stimulant, and it comes in two forms: pills (or pingerz) and crystals, which are generally called ‘Mandy’. You can get creative with the Mandy (MDMA crystals): you can grind them up under the weight of your fist or a debit card and snort them, or wrap the powder in a Rizla rolling paper, twist it and swallow with water like a Hay fever tablet. That’s what we call a bomb. Or you can just paste the powder around your gums. You’ll be sorted for a night if you’re taking Mandy ‘cause MDMA crystals are generally purer.
Mandy is disgusting. The last time I did this business, I mashed up the Mandy, about half a gram which is a good amount, and put the powder in a bottle of lemon-flavoured Volva water, and I remember that because it tasted spicy and chemical-like, as if I was chowing down on one of those air-freshener pills you see in urinals, like the ones Melman the giraffe from the animated film Madagascar eats.
Anyway, however you choose to ingest this sublime sexy substance, you have to earn the unequivocal bliss that we mates promise you’ll be feeling when you take it. What I’m talking about now is a sensation called a come up.
However you choose to ingest this sexy substance, you have to earn the unequivocal bliss that we mates promise you’ll be feeling when you take it.
Anonymous
To access the high, you have to physiologically rise to the occasion. You have to see your way through the sickness to get to the part that feels good. For me, it slowly rises from my chest, in my cheeks, and it just sits there, throbbing. It’s like a weight slowly sneaking its way around your body, and you’re trapped between wanting to stand up and move around and wanting to sit down. You feel anxious so you wanna dance, but fucking depressed so you stay seated. You feel angry, you feel really ratty, you feel sad, but you also feel anticipatory, and your breathing gets a bit deeper.
When you’re in the proper throes of this shit, you feel so depressed, you hate everyone and, if you bang Mandy out as much as I did when I was doing it, no matter how many times you’ve been through the come up, you never know if you will break out of that sensation for the night.
It feels like you’re teetering on a ledge – either you come up or you don’t – and you’re trapped feeling like shit for the whole night until it wears off.
2. The High
So, you’ve taken Mandy. There’s you and there’s the rest of the world. You can’t talk and you can’t really focus on anything happening around you at this rave you’re at but trying to get through this feeling.
Suddenly, your mate spills his drink down the back of someone in front of him and this person calls him a stupid cunt and you think it’s funny, really funny, and you come to the realisation that your mate is cute and he’s really silly and he couldn’t hurt a fly and the man in front of him is calling him names but it’s the most hilarious thing you’ve ever come across. You look around and everyone is having the best fucking time on earth, everyone is meant to be there in that exact moment, and your breathing gets shallow but deep at the same time.
With every inhale, this buzzing feeling emanates from behind your eyes and the beat from the DJ infects you. Whoa, you get this mad, incredible rush and this excitement and this euphoria and you just feel so much love for everyone. That’s ecstasy, innit?
If this is a dream, don’t wake me up.
You’re just consumed by this feeling like peace, but it’s not peace at all, you’re relaxed but wide awake. You start chewing, your jaw swings and you’re breathing funny. The music sounds so good and it’s fucking wicked. You are UP, baby.
You spend the rest of the night proclaiming your undying love for everyone, unprovoked, and nothing feels like it can go wrong in that moment. The air tastes and feels so fresh in your lungs. Your eyes are so wide – it’s the most fantastic feeling – and you cannot stop dancing to those house tunes being played in front of the gaff.
I really miss that feeling, the pure energy and happiness. Especially when there’s a beat and you feel community with those around you who are on the same shit. There’s nothing like it. But the funny thing about that is, obviously, all good things must come to an end.
Normally, when you start taking Mandy, you can enjoy the first few gos without neurochemical consequence. The first time is really good and the second time’s really good, but not quite as good, but really good still. The third time’s not as good as the second and so on it goes. You still get some beautiful peaks and highs but it’s never the same, and the drug’s effects usually last up to six hours. That rush of blood to your head feels so good until it doesn’t, and you get depressed.
That’s what happened to me.
3. The Come Down
Once the party’s over, you return to normal.
For example, it’s like when you go outside to the smoker’s area and realise that you’ve run out of cigarettes. Earlier in the night, that wouldn’t have been a problem because you would adoringly ask the stranger next to you for one and they’d oblige. This time, though, that realisation just leaves an empty feeling in your chest instead. It’s a small and sudden dip in the vibe, a little shift from a default positive response to a negative one, that brings you down from the high. The music becomes repulsive, and your skin feels like sandpaper. Your mate who is banging on about some shite is now insufferable.
It might sound as though you’re lucid during this come down but you’re not; you’re a zombie.
If coming up feels as though you’re emerging from the sea towards the sky, the come down is you sinking from your position way up there, down, down, down, until you crash into the sea, into the murky depths of depression.
Anonymous
It should take a few days to feel like yourself again but that wasn’t my experience after abusing Mandy for so long. When you use MDMA, your muscles can dangerously overheat and eventually break down, it can damage vital organs and it can lead to death.
I would wake up sober, sure, but feeling empty. Sullen, stuck behind a wall with the whole world cracking on on the other side.
If coming up feels as though you’re emerging from the sea towards the sky, the come down is you sinking from your position way up there, down, down, down, until you crash into the sea, into the murky depths of depression. And when the high equalises, you’re back in your boat on the surface of the sea. The bigger the rise, the bigger the fall, and it took me a while to feel solid ground the last time I took the drug. I sobered up, but any positive thoughts I had were no longer convincing and my life lost all its lustre. I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I felt this way for years.
I can’t imagine any night out worth going through that again.
Pictured: Brandon (@perverse.cowboy) shot by Rae Tait (@dead.deeds).
From helping us to express political disenchantment to shattering constraints of the gender binary: 4 reasons why the buzz cut is an understated gift to subcultural Britain.
The hair atop the human head is anthropologically complex.
Culturally, it is one of the only parts of our bodies routinely harvested and altered in many ways for many reasons. For men in the western world, there is a rampant correlation between thickness and desirability: fuller hair signaling virility, and a short, conservative style conveying masculine authority. For women, long length traditionally poses a resource for limitless, intricate expressions of innate femininity.
Bollocks to all that.
While hair is susceptible to the allure of mainstream trends and conventions of styling in dominant culture, it is also something that can unify you with a philosophy or group of people more specifically aligned with who you are. At the same time, it is also completely personal, and a tool that can be used to assert one’s individuality. A style which is arguably overlooked and seen as devoid of character, but is more symbolic and versatile than any other in these respects (especially when thinking about British subculture) is the buzzcut.
Subcultures have been there to subvert the sensibilities of ordinary British society for decades. We have seen those belonging to these political undercurrents surface as ska-worshipping skinheads, punks, post-punks, far right militant groups, and ecstatic androgynous ravers, to name only a few. The slap-head sensation has been there to signify them all – unchanging in its form but always powerful and exact in expressing the attitudes of each subcultural iteration.
Here are four reasons, informed by the stories of three fashionable individuals, why the simple buzzcut remains a timeless and important style for alternative Britain.
For a musical demonstration of the importance of the buzzcut, listen to our Slapheads Soundtrack playlist to explore the prominent genres associated with the style.
Reason 1: Clean Slate for Style Experiments
The bald-but-not-quite simplicity of a buzzcut allows room for maneuver when it comes to experimenting with style. Sihle (she/her), 23, is a woman who enjoys the rich buffet of bygone styles to choose from in the present day, and having a shaved head is a huge part of exploring fashion as a means of expressing herself.
“Shaving my head has helped me to experiment identity-wise,” she says. “After I started shaving my head, I started to experiment with different colours without the fear of frying my hair or messing it up, because I could just buzz it again if I did. I have so many different colours to choose from, and I often like to style my outfits around the colour of my hair.”
The transformative process that Sihle describes in playing with the buzzcut style has a powerful inward effect too. Hair is instrumental in self-actualisation, and this idea is a core belief of Deptford-hair-salon-owner Tuttii (they, them), 34.
“When you go somewhere where the hairdressers actually listen to you, and they capture your vision or create something that really works for you, that can change your life,” Tuttii says. “That’s important to us as a salon, and why we have this space: it’s to transform peoples’ lives through their hair.”
Having been cutting hair since 2014, first from a caravan on the grounds of a disused school in South East London and then in their Deptford salon, Tuttii Fruitti, Tuttii provides a unique space for those who want to harness hair in a way that goes beyond grooming. Calling it “creative hair therapy,” Tuttii understands that the right changes to your style can be as empowering as therapy, and all you need to achieve this radical brand of emancipation is an electric clipper and a brave face.
Having less hair gave me more freedom in actualising every part of who I am.
Sihle, 23
Reason 2: Economically Sensible and Convenient
Perhaps a more tangible benefit of the buzzcut style, one can expect to be saving a lot of time getting ready for a night out and spending a lot less on styling products. Brandon (he/they/them/”it”/”whatever you fancy”) is a 24-year-old enthusiastic partygoer, intent on pushing the boundaries of his identity while navigating the boundless London queer scene. He is thrilled about his slap-head style.
“It’s the cheapest, most cost-effective way to maintain a hairstyle,” notes Brandon. “I can’t afford to be going to the barbers every month!”
By extension, for people of colour, hair density means your locks might take control of you, as explained by Sihle.
“I’m much more comfortable with it being at a shorter length,” Sihle says. “My buzzcut journey started when I turned 21 and I decided to just cut it all off. I was bored – my hair would get tangled because I didn’t take care of it as much as I should’ve. I struggled to maintain it; usually I would just cover it up in wraps or wear it in protective hairstyles like braids and stuff like that – but I just decided I had enough of living like that. I wanted to start my twenty-first year with a different look and different vibe, so I just shaved it.”
Reason 3: Destructive of Gendered Modes of Expression
In the Tuttii Fruitti salon, around 80% of the clientele are members of the LGBTQIA+ community. Those who identify as trans, gender-fluid, non-binary and many others with queer identities attend the salon because of its customer-centric approach; they aren’t prescribed conventional, gendered haircuts which don’t represent who they are. While Tuttii provides people a way to express their identity as extremely, artistically and individually as they want, they explain that the fascinating reflexivity of a buzzcut can undermine divisive constructs such as gender by obscuring its definitions and disembodying the concept.
“I love to shave my hair,” Tuttii says. “One of the reasons I love to shave my hair is because it makes me feel masculine. In myself, like in my energy and how I feel inside, I feel like quite a masculine person. I can actualise that feeling by shaving all my hair off. It’s so empowering; it makes me feel strong, and I just love that hard look.
“I think [the buzzcut] works well on everybody – it’s such a powerful look, but so versatile. Someone can shave their hair and it can make them feel really feminine, make them feel like their face looks soft and beautiful.”
Brandon plays upon the style in a similar way. “I shave it now because I feel genderless, I feel ‘cunt.’ Since moving to London, and experimenting with gender a lot more, going to raves and other events, having a shaved head helps me feel genderless. I feel like an alien little cunt and I love it.
“It’s hard to describe the power I feel,” Brandon adds.” It’s like an ephemeral mix of being masculine and feminine, and neither at the same time, and taking control of those distinctions myself.”
I shave my head because I feel genderless, I feel ‘cunt.’ I feel like an alien little cunt and I love it.
Brandon, 24
Reason 4: Powerful Symbolic and Cultural Versatility
Subcultural Britain has seen the buzzcut reappropriated, hijacked and weaponised as protest many times over the late twentieth century. Arguably, the trend began in East London in the 1960s, when Traditional Skinheads – contemporaneous, working-class bastions of reggae music – would don the style to mimic prominent West-Indian artists. Evolving from there as a symbol of subordination, the variety of ideologies the style signifies leaves it open to symbolic interpretation.
Tuttii explains: “The main thing is that every hairstyle is connected to an image. When people see someone with a shaved head and they’re walking down the street, a lot of people think that they’re hard or could be a troublemaker or something like that, because of the reputation skinheads have had.”
Tuttii in full clown get-up, an important way of expressing their identity in their 20s achieved with a custom buzzcut look (@tuttiifruittilondon).
“A certain choice of style does not always mean someone wants to express a feeling synonymous to that image. It all just depends on how you feel. That’s the beauty of a good haircut.”
The working-class associations of the buzzcut style form an intersection with gay culture, according to Brandon.
“Trigger Films, a gay porn studio from the mid-2000s used to film a lot of films called “Scally,” which is working class men in the chavvy look, tracksuits, skinhead hairstyle, shooting porn. I want to emulate that style. “Of course, I’m definitely on the [left-wing side of skinheads], like northern soul. On the flip side, I love gabba music, like shell-suits and tracksuits and frap-core. I don’t know to be honest, I’m spoiled for choice!”
Aside from political inclination, the buzzcut is a style that can help someone connect with their heritage culture. Sihle asserts that “hair can showcase peoples’ creativity and personality, especially in the black community. There’s a variety of fun hairstyles connected to black culture that not only represents it but helps people stand out and reveal their personalities.”
“In terms of the buzzcut, shaving my head helped me to become comfortable with having my natural hair too,” Sihle adds. “Having less hair gave me more freedom in actualising every part of who I am.”
A young man moves from middle England to London to exact his queer identity, as before unexplored and left unexpressed. From his job behind the bar of an underground gay sex club in Soho, he observes the unrelenting promiscuity of the circuit, and a dissolution of the conventions of propriety upheld by the world above. As told to Tom Sale by an honest, anonymous source.
“I come from a town a two-hour drive to the north-east of the London metropolis. The two places are wildly different.
My hometown, in my view as a 24-year-old gay man with a wealth of intimate experience with those of the same persuasion, is incredibly straight. It’s the same no matter where you go; bland sports bars are ubiquitous and uninventive clubs are complacent with their playlists of soulless chart-toppers. Men in tight jeans with sleeve tattoos and skin-fade haircuts brandish white-wine spritzers at the nearest women with filler in their lips and a nice top. I could go tonight and it’d be the exact same experience I had there when I started clubbing six or seven years ago. The queer community was non-existent in my homestead in middle England, so I escaped to the capital when I was 22. I wanted to be somewhere where my differences did not make me a conspicuous target for ridicule, which was often the case for those in the queer community back home.
Forgive me, lord.
It always felt weird to me that a place so close to my home could be so different. London is not like the rest of the country. All it took for me was a two-hour train ride to land in its vibrant cultural epicentre, its party landscape of illegal raves in dangerous disused buildings, artists questioning their understanding of the world and expressing their disdain for it through their work, and a population made of those from every country and culture in the world.
I had two years of settling in and finding myself before getting the job at that bar in Soho. By then, I had become confident and established in my queerness, strong in stomach and well-acquainted with a thirst for adventure. Every day, I clock in and brace myself, donned in a uniform of skimpy, strappy black leather, with my flesh dripping in enough chunky piercings to pick up a radio signal. This job is not for everyone.
The bar, and the club space it’s nestled in, is drenched in sleazy hot-pink-coloured light. Low ceilings and backlit upholstery tucks everyone in. There is not much room to spread out, so the patrons turn to each other and exchange prolonged, wet kisses and invasive grapplings of their partners’ bodies, hours before any mention of a name. Publicly displayed penetrative intercourse always follows. The bar I am grateful for as a barrier from the mess of writhing intimacies I see before me is smaller than you would think, and not really an essential part of the club. I see myself less as a bartender and more as a mediator, a keeper of peace and caretaker of the space to safeguard the visitors against themselves should their energetic, sticky fumbles get out of hand (as they often do).
There is nothing more honest than nicknaming yourself ‘toilet’.
As you can imagine, the smell is a potent cocktail mix of old leather, alcohol, sperm and other bodily fluids. The club is always hot, the jungle-drum soundtrack of repetitive beats against a camp and flamboyant melody intoxicating. These men have no inhibitions; they are not at home, yet they are allowed to engage in the most private of acts in front of a crowd of enthusiastic, voyeuristic perverts. They are enraptured, liberated, penetrated and abused by strangers, all by their own request. The only strict rule governing the patrons of the club is that consent comes before anything they do; the rest of the decision-making is up to them.
Delicious.
For me, this rich tapestry reveals a human addiction to hedonism and its pursuit. Queer sex, although thankfully legal for decades, still exists and is only practised in its fullest extent underground, away from the eyes of the world. On the face of it (and judging by what I see in this club as I cower behind the bar), that seems like a good thing. Anal fisting and scat play are shocking and graphic, but there’s a whole culture hidden from the world above – a world that keeps this one on the fringe, incompatible in its deviance and marginalised in philosophy. While queer visibility is on the rise, the radicalism of what it means to be queer becomes white-washed. Gay marriage and adoption, in my opinion, don’t represent equality but assimilation. The nuclear family structure as a neat unit of social organisation appropriated by many gay couples as rite does not reflect the senseless polygamy, sexual anonymity and flagrant disregard for conventions of the male/female binary I see in front of me. I want to see more space and the comfort of normality afforded to these individuals, rather than watching them adapt to tradition in a bid for acceptance.
This perspective is most impressive for someone who, while working, came face to face with a man getting fucked doggy-style while mopping up someone else’s sperm. Yet I’ve learned to tell the difference between what is real about human desire and what is taught to us: there is nothing more honest than nicknaming yourself ‘toilet’, walking naked around a public place and letting someone shit on you in front of an audience, that’s for sure.”
