Thinking Kink: The Politics of BDSM Fashion

"Most of what we do is done in t-shirts and jeans and involves a lot of giggling." Cliff Pervocracy

Trying on my first "proper" corset—steel-boned, torso-flattening, and with an appropriately high price tag—was a mixed bag. As my friend mercilessly yanked harder and harder on the lacing to achieve the four-inch reduction in my waist size that is apparently the aim, I couldn't help but reflect on how wonderfully feminine my figure looked, waist cinched in, boobs thrust up to somewhere near my chin, ass and hips splayed and firmly emphasized below. There was just one little problem: I couldn't breathe properly. Oh, or bend. Or even really sit down. As someone who likes to be physically flexible during playtime, I could see that this was an outfit for remaining stationary, and fantastic as it looked, that's not what I want from my clothes.

Watching the video for Beyonce's song "Green Light," I noticed how—as per many media depictions of BDSM—kinky clothing was often showed in its most restrictive guises, such as the agonizing-looking en pointe shoes Beyonce and her dancers are wearing as she crawls between their legs, or the corsets reducing B's waist to its internal-organ crushing tiniest. Although I should state here that modern corsets are constructed much more comfortably than their Victorian predecessors, any feminist who knows her history can't help but wonder, What's the erotic appeal in crushing your body into a piece of clothing that left many of our ancestors physically and mentally incapacitated?

Well, the fact that we no longer have to wear corsets, bustles, stockings, garters, etc., etc. means that wearing them can now be viewed as nothing more than a fun exercise in costuming. Now that we're free to wear whatever we wish, harking back to the dress modes of days gone by becomes exotic. Yes, corsets can be viewed as a symbol of women's physical suppression in the name of femininity, but since they're entirely optional, wearing one can also "reverse and transmute the social meanings" of restrictive clothing (Anne McClintock).

Beyoncé's "Green Light" video, lyrics here.

Furthermore, as Cliff Pervocracy says above, "kinky" clothing is by no means essential or necessarily present in any BDSM scene. For every kinkster who spends hours cleaning their $500-plus latex outfit to get ready for a play party, there'll be several others for whom Saran wrap will suffice, and others yet who are happy in jeans and high-tops. Yet the media seems unable to show women being kinky outside of the most rigidly feminizing outfits, and I do suspect that the need for these obvious visual symbols is partly to emphasize that even if a woman is being dominant, she's still "only" female—and of course to remind audiences they can still visually feast on her sexualized body. When I asked Bitch readers to point me towards portrayals of non-femme lesbian kinksters, they obliged in droves. However it was noticeable that these examples were largely outside of the powerful, mainstream media—I doubt we're going to see a female dominant in a lumberjack shirt and skate jeans on our TV screens any time soon.

Latex, leather, PVC and various other fabrics are of course a serious fetish for many, but the way our media tell it, you'd think they were the only options available for getting kinky. Looking at Beyoncé in a range of latex outfits in the "Green Light" video, all I can think about is the amount of sweat she must be accumulating under the hot lights, and hoping she's put on plenty of talcum powder so she can be peeled out of them again without losing the top layer of skin. Ditto Rihanna in "S&M," Madonna in "Human Nature," and don't even get me started on GaGa. Even though the most obviously kinky clothing is often the most uncomfortable to wear, and the most unsexy to actually get in and out of, the media presume that audiences need to be battered over the head with black PVC to realize that something is sexy and BDSM-themed.

Still, as Pat Califia puts it, "In an S&M context, the uniforms ... become a parody of authority, a challenge to it." A spike heel may appear to be a debilitating shoe one moment, only to be transformed a brilliant tool for stamping on your submissive's chest the next. The rituals of being laced into a corset, and later released with a triumphant gasp, can be the sexual thrill itself—ditto having latex pulled off you, or being caressed with leather gloves, or dressed in a onesie and cuddled by your dominant. Clothes don't make kink, but the meaning we assign to them can. The outfits people find kinky are likely to be as varied and complex as the wearers themselves.

Previously: A Visit to the Sex Toy Store, Some Like it Rough

Top image from Flickr user perpetualplum, bottom image from Taxwoman via Wikimedia Commons