You don't want to know where my hands have been.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Dat ass! Look at the freckles on my butt- does that mean I have been exposing it to the sun too much?? :)

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Leather Alpha Femme, xxMxE style

Leather alpha femme to me is power in the face of ludicrous societal pressure that is forced upon each and every one of us as performed gender roles, gender binary and forced femininity and masculinity as well as the supposed empty chasm between the two. It is a freedom of expression that enables me to subvert traditional views and values of what it is to be both female-identified and feminine.

It is only recently- say, in the past two years- that I have begun to solidly identify as a leather alpha femme as opposed to how I identified earlier, which was just a leather fetishist. It has been a solo journey and I very rarely come across other femmes who are leatherwomen, and there is generally a lot of sneering at the little babyfemme ‘playing dress-ups’. The power of leather isn’t diluted if that leather is pink. Even literally, when dyed another colour the leather remains the same strength. That black leather messenger satchel or black muir cap? While I will happily admire those on other individuals, I much prefer my pink and purple leather Spencer and Rutherford messenger satchel or a darling purple leather coin purse that when zipped up full of coins, looks like a fat little mouse. The leather is smooth under my skin, creased, soft with wear with tiny intricate stitches bumping along the edges like goosebumps. I am unashamed of my status as a femme- I am what is probably referred to as New Leather, and Leathermen of past generations probably roll in their graves when instead of a hanky code I use coloured ribbons or tiny plastic lettered beads threaded onto embroidery thread documenting what exactly I carnally indulge in. So be it.

The concept of an alpha femme has also been shared around as ‘stone femme’ but for me, I feel the term ‘alpha femme’ suits my sexual practices much better. While my behaviour may indicate that I am a Domina, it always puzzled me that people would condemn me for fucking submissives and partners when I was supposedly identifying as a stone femme. My issue with that was that to get mine- as it were- penetrative sex was necessary, and sometimes there is nothing more appealing to me than a cock standing proud for my own use for the time being. Sometimes, there is nothing more revolting in the world. Emotions very rarely come into it- the super-femme attribute of ‘playing possum’ in the bedroom was turned on it’s arse by the fact that I lose interest rapidly in conquests once I’ve had them once and I find very little satisfaction in making someone else orgasm at my hand or vagina. I can spend twenty-four hours a day wearing nothing but a smear of red lipstick and leather patent stilettos and yet not be naked in front of anyone. This identity is why I have very little need to compartmentalise work from pleasure- I view it all as the same, and it is rare enough that I can say that it isn’t possible that I fall in love and stay there. Lust, most definitely. Love is a different story and completely unrelated to the genitalia I am granted permission to play with.

“Oh, I never orgasm in sessions- it makes it all feel too real”

My ability to discern between the stimulation of nerve endings resulting in an orgasm and the emotional attachment that comes from finding a lifetime companion has caused tears (though I’ll admit, not many of my own). I enjoy sex a lot with my partner, who is male-identified and considered by the kink community to be a variant of vanilla compared to the rest of the super duper hardcore edgeplay danger crap they throw around. I don’t buy it. The sheer fact that he not only tolerates but enjoys my company and finds me attractive means there is a link to the wider kink community that many individuals are ignoring- whether this is because they are irritated that a straight white ‘vanilla’ man managed to snag one of their own for keeps is up for debate.

I am a feminist. Despite this (because of this?) I have seen a de-valuing of the feminine, a theft from individuals wanting to make a choice being shamed and slammed for making that choice towards something that feminism has often seen as ‘backwards’. “We fought for your right to be able to work outside of the home,” they chant, “Why on earth would you want to stay there?” All gender identities- feminine, masculine, neither, both, a combination of all or a complete reworking of everything- are valid. As silly as it sounds, femmes are an endangered species in a world that is inherently misogynistic and vicious towards any trait or behaviour seen as feminine- femininity is belittled, shamed, seen as frivolous and silly and useless, probably because historically, those feminine individuals were female-identified.

This sexism is most often shown in pursuits that are traditionally dominated by female-identified individuals. A great example of this is fashion and the outward appearance of the alpha femme. Daily, I wear a full-face of make-up, nice underwear (or none at all) with my hair up neatly and fitted clothing with platform stilettos that often leave me towering well over six feet tall. I enjoy this. It is silly to suggest that I don’t enjoy this and that I do it for men, because most of the time I don’t fuck men for pleasure. My appearance was never created or honed for the appreciation or denigration of society, particularly male-identified individuals. I create it, I hone it, I develop, extend, promote, exploit it- for myself and myself only.

But- it’s simplistic to say that I am not privileged because my gender identity is more ‘valued’ by society because my looks are considered pleasing to the men of the world, as opposed to a handsome butch woman I know who receives ‘corrective rape’ threats almost daily on public transport. However, I am simultaneously placed on a fetishistic pedal by people who think I operate solely for their pleasure and then berated for being a vacuous superficial slut, often in the same breath.

Even other feminists get their little digs- botox is bad, breast implants are cheating, natural is best, curvy is better. I was condemned for associating my knee damage with my weight- something both I as a soon-to-be public health scientist graduate and my medical professionals agree on- or saying that I would consider a breast lift after having children. God help me when I decided to admit that I would one day be indeed breeding, and would most likely stay home until at least my youngest was a couple of years into primary school. I was lambasted as brainwashed and ‘stupid’, ‘contributing to body image problems’ and ‘shaming other women’ for considering labioplasty. Why individuals who aren’t performing oral sex on me feel the need to comment on the status of my pussy lips is beyond me, but that disgust is there, shaming me for wanting to change my body and taking steps to achieve what I feel is a good outcome for myself. Change is a big part of femme for me. It’s realising what I can do (whether this be achieving a PhD in sex work research, getting my inner labia surgically trimmed to suit my underwear preferences or teaching any future children of mine the inherent equal value of all gender identities) and taking steps to achieve these goals. One of my main goals? Money. Money buys things. Money keeps my liquor cabinet full, my beauty case completely stocked and my partner and I materialistically sated. So what to do for work? Retail? Nursing? Teaching? Stay At Home Mama? Remedial Masseuse?

Is it right for an alpha femme to profit from misogynist behaviour against her, like I do with my professional work? Sex work need not be misogynistic on an individual scale though I accept that on a grandiose scale it is women who are exploited most by the world’s sex industries compared to exploited men in the same situations. I market my sexuality in a way that enhances the fetishist aspects of it and I profit beautifully. My sexuality is a work of art in itself, it’s a guided missile rather than a weakness that can be attacked by individuals trying to spread misogyny further. My sexuality and work rejects a lot of feminist theory and reaffirms my agency as a human being, as an alpha femme, as a Domina and a leatherwoman, as well as a cat owner, a girlfriend, a partner, a businesswoman, a sister, a daughter. As an alpha femme, the differences lie in the intent- there is a big difference between pandering to men because I am unaware of other options (though I find nothing inherently shameful about this either, for the record, it’s just another basis of choice), and standing in the face of vocal opposition and defying societal standards in order to challenge perceptions of femme and gender identity.

I am strong and capable. I am strong and capable because of, not despite, my metallic pink fingernails that are impeccably groomed, my fairy-floss magenta hair that spills behind my back- this cute little pink package enables me to fish out the critters that misjudge me as useless and frivolous and hide in society to ‘get mine’ more effectively. I refuse to be shamed for enjoying stilettos, nylon stockings, silk underwear. I refuse to be shamed for my gender identity and my sexual preferences. I refuse to engage in hateful gender-erasing rubbish, in slut-shaming, in whorephobia, in misogyny, in transphobia- and in doing this, society has to realise that by looking at the outer package of this leather alpha femme, they are seeing nothing but the facade that I put up. It is a facade I have thoroughly enjoyed building- but a facade nonetheless.

PS. Vanilla really needs to stop being a dirty word, I thoroughly enjoy my twice-daily venti vanilla quad-shot skin latte.

xxMxE