Better Porn?

Marlene says:

I like porn. I don’t like most porn, but I like it enough to seek out things I enjoy. As a sexual outsider (a dyke, a trans woman, a devout pervert, and a variety of other things), I rarely find porn that depicts anything resembling my actual sex life. My relationship with porn has been a happy one. Porn has never made me feel bad about my body, until recently.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to the Roxie Theater in San Francisco to see Pornucopia, a mini-festival of queer (mostly dyke) and trans (ftm) porn. I like seeing the latest shoestring-budget projects of people who make sex films for a reason. I like seeing porn that expects to change the world by its very existence. My friends and I got tickets in advance–such events almost always sell out–and we arrived very early to be sure to get good seats.

A couple of hours later, we walked out of the theater irritated and feeling robbed. What masqueraded as a mini-festival turned out to be a promotional scheme. The majority of the program was comprised of material from one porn company. This was not a bunch of independently produced DIY queer erotica. This was primarily a showcase for Pink and White Productions. Pink and White has done an admirable job of making erotic film that represents queers. The company is run by people who started with the idea of making what they wanted to see. I don’t think Pink and White organized the evening: I’m guessing that they put up money to get the theater in exchange for promoting their stuff. I would expect that they thought they were doing something good for themselves and good for the audience. But the show was not what it had been advertised to be.

One of the main pieces to be shown (not by Pink and White) wouldn’t play properly. From what I saw of it, I was almost glad.

Maddeningly, one of the most interesting pieces was a behind-the-scenes mini documentary consisting of interviews with a couple who did a scene for Pink and White’s Crash Pad series. It was frustrating that I didn’t get to see the actual porn they were talking about making: It looked good. There was lots of smiling. They were a sweet and cute pair of thirty-something dykes, one kind of butch, one moderately fat. The camera work was intimate and you could easily imagine yourself in the room.

This confirmed the little bits I had heard about the Crash Pad series. These were real queers. From the few seconds I saw interspersed with the interviews, the sex looked real and hot.

As a special treat, we got a sneak peek at Champion, Pink and White’s newest feature (which I also wished I had gotten to see more of). In the end, I paid ten bucks to see more advertisements for porn than I saw porn. I was pissed, but not so much that I didn’t investigate the website for the Crash Pad series when I got home.

I was not ready for my response to the website: I felt bad. I looked at the models and I felt old and ugly (neither of which I am anywhere near). I wasn’t prepared to respond this way. I look at plenty of pornography and while I know that porn images push many people’s body image buttons, they never have done that for me before.

It took me a little while to figure out why I was having this unexpected reaction.

In most porn, no one looks anything like me or like most people I know. I select carefully from the ocean of mainstream garbage for the things I find hot, but people who look like me and mine is rarely one of the things I have the luxury of finding. I have always thought of this as a shortcoming of the porn industry, but maybe it’s not. It was because the people in the Crash Pad series looked like me and people I know (except for being generally somewhat younger, prettier, and skinnier) that I was comparing myself to them in a way that I am generally not inclined to do.

Is this progress?

Am I supposed to feel empowered by the fact that my queer sexual outsider culture is being commodified?

The people that charged me ten bucks to watch commercials by selling them as a film festival and the people who are making queer-looking porn with a modified application of mainstream beauty standards are part of my “community.” I’m not sure I want them in it. I’m not sure that the commercial success of stuff that looks more like my life is good. I think it brings the evils of capitalism closer to home.

Audre Lorde said that the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. I’m afraid the master just built a little cottage behind the big house for his queer cousins.

16 thoughts on “Better Porn?”

  1. I am another comfortable and happy consumer of pornography (with similar queer/punk/pervert credentials)

    I realized recently that for years I’ve avoided porn like the crash pad series for similar reasons. I am both more comfortable with the actors as ‘others’ and can but cannot identify with the handful of lithe 20yr old punk pretty boi/girlz that work for all the local queer porn companies. This porn isn’t necessarily made for me – its crossover material for people who fetishize those like us and somewhat for those that just like their sexual imagery to be young and pretty, with a veneer of edge.

    Of course porn for crusty, cantankerous perverts who like the same is less lucrative…

    I don’t fault them for what they make – it clearly has a large audience that crosses multiple lifestyles, it’s well made and some of it is definitely hot. But don’t sell it to me as of and for my people.

    Reply

  2. Dear Laurie

    With all due respect, your analysis of Pink and White could not be more off. I’m so shocked by your post that I’m not quite sure where to begin…

    First of all, your accusation that PW Inc “put up money to get the theater in exchange for promoting their stuff,” is just laughable. It is based on the assumption that PW Inc is a) a capitalist machine stocked with money bags and b) that they use said money bags to fleece the unassuming public with advertising instead of actual product. First of all, PW Inc is a small business. And when I say small I mean tiiiiiny. There is no big corporate machine pulling strings and there certainly aren’t any money bags. However, they are still, for legal and tax purposes, a business, and for any business to operate successfully, it is vital NOT to give the cow away. Got it? I’m sorry that you felt mislead by the Pornocupia Festival, but I suggest you re-aim your animosity at the festival organizers, and not at PW Inc.

    Secondly, your criticism about the models is just sort of, well, astounding. If you knew anything about Crash Pad Series, you would know that ANYONE (queer, that is) is allowed to submit an application to be a model. PW Inc does not operate with strit beauty standards, there are no quotas that they need to fill, and they are in constant need to new talent. That said, your disappointment with and critique of the model pool speaks more to your own insecurities about your age/body image than it does about the caliber of PW Inc as a production company. Crash Pad has an astounding array of body types, gender expressions, skin colors, and ethnic backgrounds that make up its cast and crew, more so than any other pornography company I’ve seen, independent or otherwise. If you feel under-represented, by all means, fill out an application and join the ranks of Crash Pad models.

    What’s more, your accusation that PW Inc is commodifying alt queer culture is just petty wack. If PW Inc was in fact fetishizing, commodifying and profiting off of the appropriation of queer culture, don’t you think it would be a much larger, slicker and mainstream production house? Perhaps you’re confusing PW Inc with Kink.com, which does in fact have a reputation for exploiting queerness for the sake of profit.

    A few weeks ago I published an interview on the Feministe blog with Shine Houston, the director. Please read it, as well as the comments. I think it will give you a better idea of what kind of company PW Inc is.

    http://www.feministe.us/blog/?s=pornography&x=0&y=0

    It’s really a shame that you are being so highly critical and negative about PW Inc. Instead such negativity, why not try to recognize the hard work that this company has done in the face of an exceptionally narrow minded and exploitative mainstream industry?

    Thanks for reading
    UC

    Reply

  3. (responding to UC)

    Laurie didn’t write this piece. I did.

    Clearly you have more love for PW than I do, but I’m not sure we disagree on the basic facts.

    I said I didn’t think PW organized the evening, and I admitted that I was guessing about the nature of their involvement.

    As far as the issue of model diversity is concerned, you say:

    That said, your disappointment with and critique of the model pool speaks more to your own insecurities about your age/body image than it does about the caliber of PW Inc as a production company.

    You’re absolutely right. That’s what I said. That’s what I was writing about.

    The statement you make about commodifying alt queer culture is where I think we actually see the world differently. PW is a business and can’t give the cow away, as you say. That means that they charge for things. Things that are bought and sold are commodities.

    I don’t say that PW is fetishizing, othering, appropriating, or exploiting anyone or their experience. I say that they are commodifying (our) culture.

    I believe that when people’s actions are driven by profit (or a desire to break even and stay in business) decisions are made differently. I also believe that the marketplace is not “community space”.

    I applaud PW for being as unlike an evil mainstream big-business as they can. I just think capitalism is not good for people, especially outsider cultures which tend to be more delicate and more easily impacted by the pressures of the market.

    I hope I’m saying this in a way that makes sense to you.

    Reply

  4. uc did an amazing job criticizing your article and made a lot of really good points so i’ll try to be brief.

    i had the pleasure of meeting shine houston and hearing her talk about her work in the past month. she talked about her experience working at good vibrations and how there were only a small handful of quality queer porn titles that she enjoyed or wanted to recommend to people. so what did she do? she decided to make the kind of porn she wanted to see. so my suggestion to you laurie is that if you don’t enjoy pink and white productions, then make the kind of porn that you want to see, or stick with shitty mainstream porn with women who look like they’ve had beach balls attached to their chests. but please don’t criticize an amazing and hard working company for their work because you’re uncomfortable with your body/age, because a lot of us really love what shine & co. are doing and we don’t want to hear what haters have to say.

    Reply

  5. I think that if you are offended at the commodification of your sexuality, you should examine your own behavior as well. Yes, porn is a business that needs to break even, if not turn a profit. This business exists because people want it and will purchase videos and pay to go to film festivals, even buy tickets ahead of time and show up early to get good seats. Are you, the consumer who is creating a demand, not also playing into this commodification that you are so upset about?

    Pink and White makes the only porn that makes me feel good about my body. I love the fact that P&W shows us bodies that are different from what plasticized mainstream porn would have us believe is sexy. When I watch these excellent films, I feel like I get to be sexy too. As this is pretty much the only place I have seen people who look like me making out, I am pretty damn grateful for the representation.

    Reply

  6. Hey there Marlene. : )

    Thank you for putting your thoughts online. It’s great to provide this opportunity for feedback, and I find your thoughts pretty interesting.

    Assuming the entire system is ‘fucked’ (pun intended) how do you see queer sex being shared within our diverse and often isolated communities? If it’s online, how would it pay for itself? Who would upload the content? And would models do it for free?

    It’s hard for me to imagine a world without consumer and financial exchange — or until that world exists, am concerned about who would suffer the inequity. It’s easy to want free porn but who pays for it? Even tube sites profit from ads/traffic.

    This opens up the conversation about all sex work and I’m totally curious about your opinions around the queer community, sex work, and profit.

    Thanks for reading and I look forward to seeing where this conversation leads.

    Jiz

    P.S. Feel free to discuss this more in depth on CrashPadSeries.com forums. It’s an important issue.

    P.S.S. If myself and Pink & White folks/fans are quick to defend our porn, it’s because we’re proud of what we do and put our asses out on the line to do so, risking rejection from families and employers. Besides those obvious hurdles, it takes a lot of courage and trust to model for porn and I don’t think people realize how brave the models are and that we should support them rather than imply that they’re not good enough. We all face discrimination enough as it is. Our models are all amazing!

    Reply

  7. Hi, I’m Christophe. My company, Blowfish, produced the San Francisco installment of Queer Porn-u-Copia. We’re also the distributor for Pink & White’s DVDs.

    I want to clarify some information in the article:

    1. Neither Blowfish nor Pink & White programmed the event. Amy Andre, who is not associated with either Blowfish or Pink & White, did. She also programmed the first installment of Queer Porn-u-Copia in Chicago.

    2. There were a total five pieces programmed for Queer Porn-u-Copia, of which only one was from Pink & White, the excerpt from “Crash Pad Series.” (This doesn’t count the trailer for “Champion,” which ran about a minute.) The other four pieces were not Pink & White productions. One did not run because of technical problems, but Pink & White’s piece was still a part of a larger program.

    That being said, I must confess I am confused by your position. On the one hand you say:

    “In most porn, no one looks anything like me or like most people I know. I select carefully from the ocean of mainstream garbage for the things I find hot, but people who look like me and mine is rarely one of the things I have the luxury of finding.”

    That’s a fair and reasonable thing to say, and I would be so bold as to guess that the people at Pink & White thought the same thing, and decided to address the problem by making their own porn.

    But then when a company run by queers makes queer porn and does so in a way that allows them to pay their rent and buy their food by doing so (rather than working for Gap or Schwab, say), you say:

    “I’m afraid the master just built a little cottage behind the big house for his queer cousins.”

    That’s strong stuff. Are you really calling Pink & White what it appears you are calling them?

    If queers are unhappy with what the mainstream porn industry is delivering, what would you propose that they do? This is an honest question, as you seem to have left them no way out.

    Reply

  8. As a 27 year old, tattooed lesbian, I find the new generation of Indie and Genderqueer porn not only refreshing, but highly satisfying. I have viewed films from a few different production companies, from the most “mainstream” of P&W, to mom & mom films that are shakey with poor production values. While I find mindself more able to seamlessly incorporate my own fantasies while watching slick production values, the most important aspect of watching porn for me is the particpants and the sex. I like watching people who are genuinely enjoying fucking each other. I like it rough, I like it sensual, I like it REAL.

    Before I learned about the growing number of porn offerings produced by and starring real dykes and genderqueers, made specifically for that audience, the closest thing to “real” sex in porn for me was watching two guys rail each other. While I still turn to a hot guy on guy scene when I’m feeling particularly saucy, I would much rather watch two transmen fuck the shit out of each other, or a beautifully tattooed woman (butch, femme, andro or otherwise) ejaculate all over her partner. Not only are these fantasies and delightful escapes for me, but they are experiences that ring true to my own life.

    When I watch one of these films, yes, I admit that I compare myself to the participants sometimes, but often I find myself not in despair, but wishing one of the participants was actually me! I never used to think someone like me could be a porn “star”, but as the landscape and culture changes, these films have made me realize that being a tattooed, somewhat androgynous lesbian is sexy, and not just because I tell myself this.

    For the record, I love seeing larger women, older women, women of different ethnicities, and various identities enjoying themselves sexually. I think it would be an amazing next step if women with physical disabilities were also included in Indie porn…I know I can’t be the only person who thinks Marlee Matlin brought a level of sexiness to deaf women everywhere, and I also don’t know about you, but I would love to see the passion and ingenuity of wheelchair-bound dykes play out on my flatscreen.

    Reply

  9. Wow! Such good stuff here.

    First: Christophe, thank you for clarifying the situation with the event. I’m feeling now, like my irritation at paying to see advertising is a separate issue from my response to the PW material and making a single post about both probably confuses the issues at hand.

    Anna (who still thinks I’m Laurie?) echoes a comment that UC made about my body issues being my body issues and that I should just get over them and not raise them publicly. If not in a post on a blog about (among other things) body image, where exactly should I say those things?

    Lindsey makes a very good point about my role as customer in commodification. I’m still thinking about it.

    I am not calling Pink and White evil. I am saying that “made by us for us” may not solve all the problems inherent in porn. I think the “master’s tools” reference says just that.

    I thought I made it clear in the OP that I believe that Pink and White does an admirable job of what they do. If I didn’t, it may have been because I was sort of taking that as a given. I have friends who have modeled for Pink and White and have nothing but good to say. I don’t mean to lump them in with the outright nasty people who dominate the porn business.

    I seriously respect and understand people’s impulse to defend their porn. My normal expectation is to be on that side of almost any debate. I wrote what I did because I was surprised by my own response. I wanted to name that response. I wanted to call out the ways that some negative dynamics might have gone unchanged without notice in what I believe is a genuine effort to make the world a better place.

    I dislike being in the position of declaring that a problem exists without offering a solution at the same time. I just don’t have one here.

    I’m not offering up an alternative model to a traditional business oriented approach. I don’t think that means I don’t get to call out some factors I see at work. Since when do we stop critiquing ourselves and each other just because we can’t fix the whole System right now?

    Lastly: Jiz, because you asked, I think sex work is like any other work. Sometimes a job is rewarding , sometimes a job grinds you down and makes you feel like shit. Some employers respect workers, some are unrepentantly exploitative. I’m not sure what else you’re asking, but it’s a conversation I’d be happy to have.

    Reply

    1. I’m following all of this with interest. I just dropped in to comment on the question of whether or not to discuss body image here. Anna said:

      please don’t criticize an amazing and hard working company for their work because you’re uncomfortable with your body/age, because a lot of us really love what shine & co. are doing and we don’t want to hear what haters have to say.

      Marlene is a recent addition to the people who post on Body Impolitic, and she’s doing exactly what Laurie Edison and I (the original and most frequent posters) want to see here, which is raising interesting and complex questions about body image. In this case, she brought in some of her own experience in a way that I personally found both thoughtful and challenging.

      Anna, thanks for telling us a little more about Shine Houston. The kind of work she’s doing is, by its nature, going to bring up thoughts, feelings, and responses of all kinds, just as Laurie’s photographs do. For me at least, part of combining art and activism is being aware of the vast variety of ways your work can affect people.

      Reply

  10. This has been a really interesting discussion. It’s been good to rehash what our values at Pink and White Productions are. I also appreciate all the love coming from our staff and supporters and models. Thanks especially to Marlene for offering a different perspective.

    I have a few things I’d like to add.

    First of all, in your original post and later responses I hear a notion that queer culture exists outside of consumerism and its evils are slowly encroaching upon us, that there is some true essence of being queer that is slowly being sullied. This doesn’t sit well with me. Think of John D’Emilio’s claim that gay and lesbian identity actually formed in the context of the expansion of capitalism–that the wage system allowed a new level of personal autonomy which gave rise to what we understand now as gay and lesbian identity. Who knows if d’Emilio’s historical speculations are exactly right, but it seems important to me to remember the simple point that queer identity is a historical phenomenon (as opposed to queer acts–I assume these have been going on as long as people have had bodies). To say that we as queers should somehow be above capitalism seems to me like a misunderstanding of how identity and economic structures are intertwined.

    This is not to say I disagree with you about the evils of capitalism, just that I’m not sure that queerness was ever apart from it in the first place. If you see queer identity as some sort of a transhistorical phenomenon then we have to agree to disagree. This might be a good place to say that I’m also not sure about your characterization of the gay and lesbian community as so very fragile. With all the sweat, tears, and blood it took to gain the amount of civil rights queers have today I don’t see the community as being a small outsider culture any longer. It’s strong and growing.

    Next, I don’t agree with the idea that by having straight male viewers we are somehow perpetuating the machine (as you mention in your comment on our forum). Straight men aren’t the enemy; heteronormativity and homophobia are. Why shouldn’t anyone who wants to get away from these things enjoy our work? It just doesn’t make sense to me to imagine that queer sex or sexuality are some pure phenomenon, separate from all other expressions of pleasure. It’s important for me that Pink and White provides images of queer sexuality, but I also understand that porn is about fantasy and representation, neither of which are necessarily mirror images of reality. We don’t alter our content to attract straight male viewers, but I take it as a good sign about our culture at large that there are straight men who like what we do. Everyone should have access to sex-positive images of real people, not just queers.

    My biggest concern, though, is your use of the Audre Lorde quote “For the master’s tool will never dismantle the master’s house”. First let’s give context to this quote. It was in reference to the racism and homophobia within the feminist movement. In that context it is powerfully relevant. The feminist movement was completely addled by its biases at the time Lorde wrote this and has been able to expand in great ways from acknowledging them. In the last 20 years there have been amazing leaps in feminist thought and queer theory and yes it is possible to dismantle and completely rearrange the house. In this post-Butler age, that quote does not translate outside of its original meaning. Butch femme couples are a prime everyday example of how queers use the master’s tools of heteronormativity to turn it completely on its ear. Masculinity and its trappings are not the ownership of male bodies alone. Same with femininity. Or what about other feminist theory that uses the master’s tools precisely to dismantle his house? Like Irigaray’s Speculum of the Other Woman, that uses Freud’s own words to tear apart his theory of femininity. It seems to me many of us have indeed been using the master’s tools to pull down existing structures and to build our own. This is what Pink and White strives to do, at the same time as we agree entirely with Lorde that racism and homophobia have no place in radical thought.

    That brings me to my last concern about your use of the quote, which is a personal one. You may not be aware of the racial implications of your statement. To say that Pink White, and me, by implication, live in shack behind the master’s house is unbelievably inflammatory. As a person of color I can’t let this go unnoticed. The nice phrase to use for what you’ve suggested we are is an “Uncle Tom.” I will refrain from using the words I’m really thinking of because they are so harsh. I can only hope that this wasn’t your intention.

    Once again I just want to say that I appreciate this dialogue.

    Reply

  11. For context, the comment I made at the Pink and White forum is here:

    http://crashpadseries.com/forums/topic.php?id=108&replies=6#post-560

    A little bit about language… I have used capitalism and commercialism both to refer to contemporary mass market commercialism and it’s impact on identities and cultures. I should have been more specific. Also… Shine uses queer to mean all LGBT people. I use it to mean something smaller; those of us who do not sit inside the not-so-big tent of assimilationism, frequently because we don’t have that option.

    While I believe Shine’s interpretation of the political implications of the Audre Lorde quote I referenced is inaccurately narrow, I shudder at the racial interpretation she raises. That was not my intention.

    Reply

  12. Wow, what a great set of responses! I want to add just a couple of my own thoughts, the first about John D’Emilio’s work:

    D’Emilio does argue that homosexuality (meaning largely the male homosexual identity) emerges alongside industrialization and the growth of wage labor. But his point is not to support the view that homosexuality, LGBT, or (much less) queers, are inevitably and inextricably tied to capitalism. His point is, rather, to make it possible to think of a movement for sexual liberation (as in “radical sexual politics”) that will surpass and survive the very forces of capitalism on which modern homosexual identities rely. Like any good Marxist, he theorizes that capitalism contains within it the seeds of it’s own destruction — namely that capitalism depends on the organization of labor into the modern private nuclear family (that in turn supports the public realm of wage labor), but at the same time the forces of capitalism destroy this same socio-economic order. In the end, D’Emilio’s call is for us to rethink kinship and family, for which queers can provide new/different models; queer cultural forms may become informal then more or less institutionalized structures on which a “new” economies (of desire, but also of goods and gifts) can emerge. (I don’t even think it is new or in the future; I think that these economies already exist, but they are fragile.) He is himself thinking past capitalism’s dominance of our social and cultural worlds.

    To use his thinking to justify the “inevitable” marriage of queer and/or LGBT cultural products and consumerism is to miss the motivation for his writings, and the spirit in which he writes. There are many ways to justify one’s own capitalistic tendencies, but D’Emilio is not really in that camp.

    Second set of thoughts: Whenever you are taking a form (here, pornography as a genre) and adopting it without transforming it’s form, you are not doing anything new or (IMHO) terribly interesting. Early feminist porn (think “with her tongue on my theory”) was as much about changing what porn is *formally*, than it was about profiting from producing the same old same old, just insert new kinds of bodies/identities. I would be more interested in seeing something that is formally interesting and challenges, disturbs, or “queers” (used as a verb) the tropes and form that pornographic representations take. Barbara Hammer did it; Mapplethorpe did it; Cheryl Dunye did it; Marlon Riggs did it; heck, John Cameron Mitchell did it; because what they had to say and show the word made it so the form it took was also a question/project. (E.g., Riggs could not have made _Tongues Untied_ without queering the documentary form.) Adding more diversity of images/bodies is just feeding the hunger for more and more images. Challenging how sexuality, pleasure and desire are imagined and visually/aurally represented, now that would be something I’d want to see.

    Cheers,
    D. Rita Alfonso

    Reply

  13. Great addition to a great discussion, D. Rita Alfonso! I’ve also read the d’Emilio essay, but didn’t get the sense that Shine Louise Houston is using it to say that queers should always be tied to capitalism, but instead to say that there’s no inherent connection between LGBTQ and anti-capitalism. Marlene’s posts have seemed to imply that queerness in western culture was separate from capitalism until now, which–I agree with SLH–goes against a Foucauldian view of the history of sexuality, which is what d’Emilio is working with. The thing about queers is that sexuality is just one part of our identity–we don’t forsake our national, ethnic, religious, etc. affiliations just because of our sexual identifications, or even because we are alienated by the laws and norms of these other identificatory categories. And as Leo Bersani says, being queer is not in and of itself a political act. (I’m paraphrasing.)

    And regarding your second point–I agree, but I don’t know if you’ve checked out Pink White’s work. It absolutely transforms pornography, in a number of ways, more by far, I would say, than John Cameron Mitchell (imho!). It also transforms film conventions. But each to his/her own.

    I think there’s been another issue here all along that needs to be discussed, though, which is this idea Marlene brings up about queer as meaning unassimilated. Marlene uses queer “to mean something smaller; those of us who do not sit inside the not-so-big tent of assimilationism, frequently because we don’t have that option”: so which is it: do you want the option, or are you happy in your status as other, because it therefore means you’re a radical and outside of ideological forces (which I don’t agree with, btw)? I see this tension in the original blog post too–you wanted to see yourself represented, but then when you did it was upsetting. I don’t mean to attack you here at all, because I have to say I get it. I get wanting to feel like queerness is radical in itself, and like I’m not like those other people in straight culture. But this attitude can start to reek of victimization, and gets especially problematic when we want rights under the law. And it also seems sort of sad to me, to redefine queerness in the smallest most uninclusive possible way, when the word has been so useful exactly for its inclusiveness. Indeed, alienated people have very few options when they grip their alienation like it’s the only thing they have left, and don’t let others in.

    Anyway, like UC says, my impression is that PW is not necessarily raking in the dough, so it hardly seems like the right place to take one’s anticapitalist fervor, but this has been a really cool conversation. And I will keep buying PW’s films!

    Reply

  14. I cross dress & make videos of myself when my wife is at work. Sometimes I shave my legs or arms if I get really into it.

    Well the other day my dad was wearing long shorts and when he sat down I noticed he had shaved his thighs down to his knees which is what I frequently do. I’m wondering if I got this weird trait from him. He makes fun of gays and drag queens all the time so I’m not sure. Plus he’s always seemed like a real prude where as I’ve always been really kinky and not afraid to mention it.

    Reply
  15. Pingback: Body Impolitic - Blog Archive - » Much Better Porn! - Laurie Toby Edison: Photographer

Join the Conversation

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Body image, gender, Laurie and Debbie's blog, media, sexuality, , , , , , , , ,