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Fetish Marathon
My Breathless Review of Fetish Marathon Events
On Wednesday evening, the first night of The Fetish Marathon,
I was invited to Domina Dante Posh’s “Independence Party,” where she
was celebrating her domme independence and no longer being, um,
tethered to a specific pro dungeon. She’s been traveling the globe as
of late, starring in fetish videos, modeling fab Euro fashions and
otherwise just being uber-glam! Her intimate soiree consisted of close
friends, ex-co-worker-dommes and her main mentor, the eminent Mistress
Mir. It was held at Mistress Wynter’s well-appointed dungeon, complete
with back yard, and it was a warm and wonderful way to kick off the
festivities.
From there we trekked down to Don Hill’s, not for anything fetishy, but for The Sex Slaves’
CD release bash. The place was packed with skinny young rock studs and
hot hipsters and I was a big hit in my Sex Slaves LED belt buckle. Once
my favorite boy band in Manhattan finished up their hard-hitting set,
we skipped out the door and headed for Opaline and RubberCat’s
Meet & Greet. I hadn’t planned to wind up there, so I was in jeans
and a t-shirt and that aforementioned blinky belt buckle. Which, of
course, was a crowd pleaser; anything with Sex and Slaves usually is at
a fetish event! Lucky for me they had suspended their “strict” dress
code for the evening, so no one harassed me for my very un-cool blue
denim. Everyone else paid little or no attention to the lack of dress
code and really brought it in the ensemble department, given that it
was only supposed to be a warm up for the big week. The two towering
latex fetishists in hoods and the whole shebang really made a
statement—and made me feel woefully underdressed! But by then I was
good and bombed, so it didn’t matter toooo much! I wound up having my
feet worshipped by three men at a time and then madly dancing barefoot
to amazing 80s tunes and other assorted oldies spun by DJ Lestat.
Thursday began with a hangover, as I’d expected, so I said “Yes
indeedy!” when Mistress HarleQuinn called me for a late lunch/early
dinner. Oh, if you’d only seen us in our high hangover glam! Me with my
post-Princeton Reunions conga line mishap black eye and gym clothes and
HarleQuinn in cargo shorts (?!?) and a stretched out hoodie! We engaged
in some serious carbo loading in anticipation of the big night to come.
After I laced myself into my brand new Editrix garment from Delicious Corsets
and pinned on a few boas, I helped lace a rookie fetish party
enthusiast into her first corset, met up with my adorable crossdressing
friend Peter and off we went, walking to the conveniently located
Webster Hall.
The three of us weren’t in the door five minutes before I was
approached by a tall, handsome young man offering to buy me a drink. He
remained by my side, making sure I had a cocktail in my hand,
throughout the entire evening. That alone would’ve ensured my good
time! As for my take on the event, that’s a bit complex. The buzz on
the event had been a bit negative. So many people didn't even go, or
want to, which was a drag. It would’ve been nice if everyone in New
York had been really excited about the event and more motivated to
attend. I believe there were many reasons, number one of which was the
space. People were "turned off" by it being held at Webster Hall and I
was very skeptical about how well sharing the venue with the usual
Thursday vanilla crowd would work. Kudos to whoever helped facilitate
the lack of crossover. Even getting in was easy!
The fashion shows were fucking amazing! Veritee Hill's
stuff was beautiful and those feather headdresses by Y Santi Azul are
to die for! The Vex Latex show, which culminated with a few dozen
fetish VIPs milling around onstage like a latex cocktail party in
heaven was just beautiful! Glancing down at all that from the mezzanine
was lovely and surreal and made me feel like I was in just the right
place.
There were complaints that the play space was too small, but it's hard
to schlep a lot of huge equipment to these events because New Yorkers
don't have a lot of storage space to keep equipment handy and then move
it to a venue for one night. Frankly, I thought there was enough space
given that the club is huge and if you use your imagination you can
play anywhere. You have a whip, crack it! Improvise! It was too cramped
to actually see the play; I kept trying to watch HarleQuinn’s piercing
demo and it was just too crowded. The breathtaking Ula was suspended
over the stage in a big metal hoop, like a bird, and that looked pretty
cool. I think I missed most of the shows since I was so busy being a
celebrity! Guffaw. But in the end, a big ball like that is more about
the attendees, and they (we?) were definitely spectacular!
I grabbed a few accomplices and bumbled out of the club around 3-ish
for some late-night antics at Three of Cups. When we got kicked out of
there, a whole bunch of us piled into cabs and hit Paddles
for their after hours party. I have a feeling we may not be welcome
back there anytime soon; the level of our misbehavior was probably
unprecedented! And when we’d exhausted our enjoyment of all their
equipment—and thoroughly worn out our welcome—we headed uptown to a
friend’s apartment for even more misbehavior! Let’s just say I won’t be
looking at nursery school furniture the same way ever again! I got home
at noon, which means I really had a blast!
I spent Friday sprawled on the couch, trying to recover from the
previous two evenings, so I didn’t make it to The Baroness’s Cocktail
Party or the two play parties hostessed by Mistress Didi or Mistress
Evita. I just couldn’t get myself vertical.
Saturday night was SMack! at
Crash Mansion with a cybersexy FutureSex theme. I decked myself out in
EL wire and that blinky belt buckle, reprogrammed to read FutureSexy,
along with a post-apocalyptic Lara Croft-type ensemble. I was supposed
to be the MC, but tech problems conspired against that happening, so I
decided more vodka drinks were in order. The place wasn’t near big
enough to hold all the fantastic freaks in their fabulous fetish gear,
and Mistresses Wynter and HarleQuinn were having a helluva time trying
swing their floggers, but given the level of enthusiasm, it was a fun
party. The set by More Machine Than Man alone was worth the price of
admission. Their visuals were gorgeous and their music provided the
perfect soundtrack for the latex-enhanced dance floor. And Mistress
Lola’s bloody domination performance had the crowd transfixed.
When the lights came up and we were being herded out around 4:30am, I
jumped in a cab headed uptown to yet another after hours gathering,
where a handful of us sat outside in a friend’s backyard drinking beers
and chatting till noon the next day. That about did me in for the week
and disabled me to the point where I couldn’t attend The Baroness’s
Fetish Retinue Sunday night. It ain’t easy being such a party girl,
I’ll tell ya! I already can’t wait for next year’s Fetish Marathon!
[Written June 2005]
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