Digging the Scene

We deviated from our usual Saturday night private dungeon club party to check out the opening night festivities at the new BDSM club Eye Candy. Billed as a swingers club with BDSM play areas, the invitation promised an upscale club experience in Hollywood. Guests were encouraged to dress accordingly — leather, lace, lingerie or less.

I adore any excuse to dress up, particularly in fetish wear. I’ve always loved the fashion aspect of BDSM and that may be what initially caused me to flirt with bondage play in the first place. As a teenage punk rocker, I wore leather studded cock rings from the Pleasure Chest as bracelets, a slave collar, biker boots and leather jacket. These were all appropriated from gay leather culture without an understanding of what these items symbolized. I had more of an emotional connection with the aggressively sexy demeanor of black leather and bondage-influenced clothing because it was like my suit of armor – it made me feel cool and invincible.

Rock ’n roll and bondage

Rock ’n roll fashion has appropriated the rebellious bondage aesthetic for decades — think Sex Pistols in Vivienne Westwood’s bondage pants, Lou Reed in his tough leather jacket, Madonna in Jean Paul Gaultier’s fetishized 1950’s underwear as outerwear, Lady Gaga in PVC and dozens of other pop icons who have popularized versions of bondage or fetish wear.

This influence has been seen in the fashions of couture designers including Tom Ford, Helmut Lang, John Galliano and Alexander McQueen to name a few. These days it’s been diluted and fashion’s flirtation with the bondage look doesn’t have the same shocking impact. Some of these elements trickle down to the masses and end up as details in garments by H&M or Forever 21. I can’t afford a Herve Leger bandage dress but can fantasize about it!

Now that I’ve adopted BDSM as a lifestyle I take advantage of the opportunities to wear bondage-tinged fashion whenever possible — the kinkier the better. Crazy fun fashion is one of the benefits of this alternative way of life. I shop alongside strippers and rave bunnies, trolling Hollywood Boulevard or Haight Street in San Francisco for fetish clothing.

Seduced by latex

One thing that makes me feel so seductive in fetish clothing is that it objectifies the wearer, transforming her mindset, as she becomes a slave to the clothes. Objectification in the BDSM world ties in with submission — the submissive becomes a sexual object, existing only for the pleasure of another. It’s everything my feminist upbringing rallied against. For a modern woman like myself, objectification is taboo… and so naturally, it is a turn on for me.

Fetish clothing may restrict movement (such as with corsetry), dictate how we move (as with high stiletto heels) and what we do when wearing the clothing. I will totter along in tight narrow skirts combined with 6” platform heels that force me to take small, careful steps, while dragging Sir M’s heavy suitcase full of knives, chains and BDSM toys. Impractical but it looks so good.

Choosing an outfit for a kink event can be a challenge. Some of the best looks are time intensive to put on and take off, and demand advance preparation. Getting laced into a corset can take an hour and require someone else helping lace it up. Fishnet stockings with garters are difficult to put on without any twist in the garters, particularly when re-dressing in the dark as I often do at dungeon parties. Donning latex means carefully washing and hanging the garment earlier that day, then rubbing silicon-based lube on the body to help the skin-tight rubber glide over the body and into place. It is a process.

Undressing in public is an art

Part of the criteria in choosing my party wear is balancing the ease (or difficulty) of getting dressed and undressed, with the hotness factor of the outfit. I dress to please Sir M and must shine as a proud sub when I’m in his service. It is crucial that I wear something sexy but not completely impractical. For example, on a rainy winter night I was told to dress “sexy warm,” so I wouldn’t get sick strutting around in the cold. I’m of no use to him if I’m sick.

It is also essential that the outfit not be too difficult to take on or off, so that when Sir M is ready to do a scene I can transition quickly. By the same token, I can’t redress in a complicated outfit if I’m all spaced out after a scene, which is often the case. I am obsessed with waist cinchers and the silhouette they give me, yet they are not easy to put on or wear, so I save them for special occasions.

Peeling off a tight latex garment can be a struggle especially if the wearer has sweat after putting it on. And it’s hard not to sweat in a rubber dress! I ran into this problem a few weeks ago and got the latex dress rolled up and stuck around my chest when I was trying to disrobe for a scene with Sir M. He had to help me pull it off. Talk about embarrassing!

The scene-makers and the looky-loos

For the club opening I chose to wear a fishnet top with no bra, waist cincher and Herve Leger-knock-off mini skirt with fishnets and garters. The crowd was super well-dressed — pin-up-inspired beauties in perfect latex dresses and fetish heels, brilliantined black and blue hair, men wearing their best leathers (including Sir M in a soft black lambskin jacket and slacks.) There was a man in a heavy Batman costume getting tied up for a suspension on the stage in the main room. Upstairs, the dimly lit swingers loft was occupied with a few humping couples on mattresses strewn about the floor.

Sir M chose to restrain me on a large, beautiful St. Andrew’s cross that had been custom-made for the club. I carefully undressed, aware that he was leering at me and a crowd was staring in at us through the glass wall. He pulled me up against him so I could feel the leather trousers against my naked skin. He whispered gruffly in my ear,

“You like getting naked for me, don’t you, slut?”

I nodded and started to shake with nerves. He stroked my abdomen for a moment, then got a grip on my breasts and whirled me around against the cross to receive my punishment.

His stiff leather paddle (shaped like a ping pong paddle) stung as it whacked my butt. I shrieked but it didn’t matter — it just attracted a bigger crowd. I was still shaking and sobbing, cold and anxious.

Sir M blindfolded me for the rest of our scene. He was able to calm me down by dragging the point of his sharp knife all along my body. He has trained me to enter a euphoric state when confronted with his knives.

The deep scratches from his knifeplay tingled and sang to me as I redressed to join the party. That is something you probably won’t see in any fashion show; a special reminder that Sir M has been there.

Daisy TraLaLA (@daisytralala) is a saucy Angelino kinkster who glides with ease between the worlds of tech, art, cuisine, electronica and dungeon parties. Check back every Tuesday for posts from her journey to the most divine surrender.