It's ages - years - since I've tried one of these QUESTION posts and I'm not sure how well this'll work (I've no idea how many people even read my blog) but hey ho, let's give it a go. I'm really interested in how common my own experiences are or aren't among other fetishists/bondophiles, so I'd appreciate as much feedback on these topics as possible, even if it's anonymous or sent by email.
I ask because I know it's not uncommon, in some fetishes, for guys to go through cycles of collecting and purging/avoiding, where they get rid of everything that they're attracted to and actively stay away from it.
I certainly remember, as far back as pre-teens and possibly pre-school, a strong sense that the kind of thing that gave me those warm, fuzzy, excited feelings were not to be talked about to adults although I didn't have a particularly clear idea why.
One particularly strong memory is of my parents taking me to buy a new jacket at age nine. This being the late '70s, the fashion was for lightly padded but close-fitting zip-up windcheaters in shiny, slippery nylon. In the clothes shop, my folks wanted me to try on a particular garment but I absolutely refused, to the point that I was seriously on the point of bursting into tears at their cajoling then irritation. The jacket was made of the shiniest, most light-reflective black nylon I'd ever seen (not unlike the Moncler parka I was talking about just the other day), tightly-fitted to torso and arms, with a front zip and zips on both sleeves. With hindsight, I can see that it pressed various of my buttons (black, shiny, tight, slightly restrictive) but something about having to confront an object of my fetish so publicly alarmed me intensely. I'm not entirely sure what lay behind my extreme emotional response but I do remember that no way was I going into that glistening, black jacket, not even to try it on.
My Dad was particularly annoyed with me, as he felt very strongly that this was the best-looking jacket in the shop. That, too, is interesting, as (again, with the benefit of hindsight) I remember him owning more than a couple of shiny black jackets. In the mid-'80s, he took to wearing a black leather blouson jacket and I recall him emphasising the importance of buying good quality leather gloves in a shade to match. So... my Dad possibly had fetish interests, whether conscious or unconscious. I suspect a great many men do.
In the end, my parents bought a similarly styled jacket but in royal blue, with red and white stripes around the arms. This, somehow, was more acceptable to me. These days, on menswear online discussion boards, I see somewhat agonised discussions on the acceptability or otherwise of wearing leather jeans or full leather, and I detect a similar dynamic in those who suggest the wearing of brown leather or suede rather than shiny black. They can't say exactly why one colour is considered more wearable than another, and I wonder whether it's the same instinctive "oh no, people will be able to see my fetishes" anxiety that afflicted nine-year-old me in that 1970s clothes shop. That and the perceived association of black leather with homosexuality, or at least overt sexuality.
Anyway, that's probably the clearest, earliest example I can remember of actively avoiding (what would later crystallise consciously into) my fetish interests. Tell me your tale.
Friday, 26 December 2008
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From as long as I can remember, I've been turned on by rubber and leather.
One of my earliest memories was a family trip to Niagra Falls. To go into the tunnels below the falls they give you a slicker and a rain hat. I don't know why but I pitched a 4 year old fit about having to wear the raincoat (probably more about the hat). Must have been too close to that scary place.
As I got older, I used to spend hours in the heavy metal section of the record store--even though I hated the music--just because the bands were more likely to wear leather. (Judas Priest has a particular attraction, so I was not surprised when Rob Halperin came out).
But I could not set foot in the Wilsons House of Leather in the mall until I was at least 21. I felt sure that I would set off the pervert detector.
Needless to say, I've more than overcome that fear!
Oh yes, I've gone through several cycles of collecting and purging as far as titillating material is concerned.
As a teen, I used to collect clippings from newspapers and magazines that featured men in leather or other exciting gear. Sooner or later I would throw away the contents of my secret folder in the fear of it being discovered. However, I soon started to collect clippings again.
Later, when I got a computer and the Internet began to thrive, the clippings were replaced with image files and the cardboard folder was replaced with an encrypted file folder on the hard drive. The risk of my hobby being exposed was lessened. However, I still got fits of throwing things away. During those fits, I felt strongly that my preoccupation with fetishes took too much time and I ought to direct my energy to something more useful.
I suppose I have settled down since then. A part of the desire to do useful things has been replaced with a desire to just be happy. It has not been a bad swap.
Strange, I thought I might have been one of the only ones that had those issues. I've liked and participated in male bondage mainly for bondage sake for many years, gone through the purge and repurchasing binges over and over; I was tying up my action figures long before they were collectibles on EBay.
I remember back when I was maybe in the second grade (I'm 44), there was a magic special on the television with an escape artist. I still remember strange conflicting feelings, I wanted to watch the show but I went into the kitchen instead because I felt some sort of shame being in the same room with the program on with my folks in there too so I didn't watch it. I couldn't watch anything that had male bondage in it with anyone around, maybe because they would find out my secret.
I have a leather glove and boot fetish, I always felt really uncomfortable wearing them around the family (the boot fetish came from the fact that I have flat feet and the doctors at that time prescribed some hideously ugly corrective shoes that I had to wear and my mother would never deviate from ugly lace up shoes). I wouldn't wear gloves even though my hands were freezing.
I can only guess that I when I feel masculine and sexy in leather there's some sort of embarrassment or shame like I'm still supposed to be that preschool little boy sneaking glimpses of a man being straight jacketed on tv from the kitchen.
Despite loving black leather, I would never wear any in public, apart from shoes. From a fashion point of view I doubt I could carry it off.
If I tried to buy a pair of black leather gloves, I am sure I would look guilty.
I can't help feeling people must guess I am pervy. If I buy clothes line or duct tape they will know it is not the usual purposes.
I don't think I could say the phrase "Bound and gagged" out loud in normal society.
KBear:
Out of interest, did you end up having to wear the slicker and rain hat after all? I wonder sometimes whether there's any sort of correlation between Being Made To Wear X In Childhood and Liking Being Tied Up In X In Adulthood.
My equivalent of your hours in the heavy metal store would, I suppose, be spending whole afternoons in libraries, skim-reading westerns and adventure fiction for key words (like "captured", "prisoner", etc.) indicating a tying up scene.
Hahah, I was into my late teens before I dared to enter our town's leather fashions shop. I saved up money and bought a jacket I really liked but knew I could never wear in public. That poor jacket was hidden in my bedroom and subsequently my room in student halls of residence, and indeed was never worn in front of anyone else.
Such a waste!
Jonalysis:
Way back at the beginning of this blog, I talked about my own secret scrapbook of clippings, drawings and photos - which, like yours, was "purged" when the fear of discovery grew too great.
By the time I started finding my way around electronic media, I think I'd resolved my feelings of guilt around the "waste of time and energy" thing, and indulged myself happily!
Mr Macabre:
Nah, you're certainly not the only one! When I hook up with a fellow bondophile (and bondage for bondage's sake is pretty much how I'd describe my play sessions, too) I'm also interested in comparing notes on this stuff - and I've been amazed at the common themes which emerge.
Your recollection of the magic special reminds me of what I think is the first time I saw a straitjacket: it was a circus show with an element of competition, and two escapologists featured. The one I remember is Alan Alan; if I remember rightly, he was strapped into a rather unusual black SJ and I think he lost out to the other escape artist. I was fascinated by the concept of the SJ itself and the fact that it was apparently difficult to escape from (as evidenced by Alan Alan coming second to the other guy) but I distinctly recall picking up a book and pretending not to be paying much attention to the television, watching only out of the corner of my eye. At some level, I think I was worried that any interest I showed would be recognised and denounced by my parents as wrong or "unhealthy".
Cacofonix:
Wow, you have it bad! I can certainly relate but I suppose I've conquered my own similar anxieties to a greater extent. In my case, it was corresponding with like-minded people (in those pre-Internet days, through Fetish Times's classifieds) that helped normalise my own experiences. That and, later, meeting partners who not only tolerated but encouraged my interests.
I don't know that leather's that hard to carry off, fashion-wise, is it? A motorcycle jacket might hold certain connotations but a "smarter" jacket less so - and leather gloves are an incredibly common Christmas present for male relatives (if people asked - which I doubt they would - you could claim they were a gift).
Maybe vendors do pick up on the "perviness" of someone buying tape or clothesline, particularly if they seem really self-conscious about it. I used to feel the same poring over chain and padlocks in B&Q and was always very careful to have my "story" straight in case anyone asked. No-one ever did and, after a while, I stopped worrying about it.
Of course, these days we have EBay...
I can't say that I collected and purged, but certainly as I have grown older, met and formed a monogamous partnership with my one-and-only man, settled down to build a home for the two of us, my interests have changed.
Further, leather fetish interests of mine have evolved to "leather function." (I have blogged a lot about that on my blog, linked from yours). I still wear a lot of my leather gear, but that which accommodates my interest in motorcycling. I ride in full leather often, and go out and about in my community in leather (and always in boots) as well. But I no longer have an interest in, nor wear, pure "fetish" gear such as codpieces, etc. We no longer attend fetish gatherings such as IML or MAL, as my partner does not want to go, and I will not go without him.
Part of what's going on with me now is that my partner can no longer wear boots due to a disability, and has lost interest in leather gear. He enjoys it when I come at him in full leather, but his formerly mild interest in leather was more to accommodate me than for his own enjoyment.
Thus, the purging of some of my gear that I am doing is to dispose of things that no longer fit or have no use for (harnesses, for example), and for which I have no use for while riding my Harley.
Great query -- good responses, too. Thanks for asking!
Yes. I can remember going to a shoe shop with my father when I was about 14. He suggested i have a pair of Doc Martens as they were so practical and hard wearing. There was nothing I wanted more than a pair of DM boots, but I would have just felt too self conscious at that stage to have worn them. However, I soon got over that inhibition...no sooner did I get a saturday job in my mid-teens than I bought some Doc Martens for myself, then a little later my first MA1 jacket, and then more boots and my first leather.
Actually, when I think about the niagra falls incident, there was a paper hat you had to wear under the rain hat. not a hair net but a fast-food style hat. It was the paper hat that set me off.
Perhaps I was just throwing a fashion fit. Didn't want anything between me and slicker! Thats my story and I'm sticking to it.
BootedHarleyDude:
Yes, I've followed your recent blogging with interest. You're perhaps unusual among fetishists (and I hope you don't mind me referring to you as such) in that your interest has moved from openly erotic to functional (or function-centred) - as opposed to (what I think of as) the more common route whereby one tends initially, generally speaking, to justify one's clothing in terms of function ("this is just protective motorcycle gear") and later admit a sexual attraction.
My impression is that a different dynamic is at play with you because, obviously, you're no stranger to IML/MAL events, and have worn leather there in a "non-functional" context.
Do you think your interests have become more centred on functional motorcycling primarily as a matter of necessity (because your partner's not into IML/MAL) or a more organic evolution (gradual loss of interest in those leathery areas not connected with motorcycling)?
It strikes me that certain items of leather clothing, such as shirts, are less easy to rationalise within a functional/non-functional motorcycling distinction...
Richard Neville:
See, I wonder if the early rejection of objects of fetish desire (such as your DMs) is a "hurdle" on the road to accepting and integrating our desires as normal, or whether the rejection is part and parcel of the fetishisation process, particularly where bondage is concerned. If we didn't initially have that strong love/hate response to certain garments, would we subsequently get turned on by the prospect of being forced into (ie. tied up in) those same garments?
KBear:
A paper hat under a rain hat? Bloody hell, that sounds somewhat excessive; (these days,) I'd want the slicker and rain hat with nooo damn uncool paper contraption in-between!
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