Blog 2: The Side of Craigslist Sex You Didn’t Know

 

The aspects of Craigslist Personals such as the “Missed Encounters” section and the “M4M” section have gained some noticeability in mainstream pop culture, generally for their ridiculously humorous aspects. Lesser-known is how Craigslist facilitates advertisements about sex for and from trans people, particularly trans women or transfeminine individuals. Since trans people generally lay outside of what society deems sexually acceptable, they have to find alternative ways to seek our potential sexual or romantic partners, explained best by Newmahr in her explanation of how cultural capital plays out in intimacy; she explicitly mentions gender norms as one of the things that reduces cultural capital for sexy and intimacy (2011:185).

These Craigslist personal ads are found under the “Misc romance” section of Personals, under “m4t” and “t4m”, which stand for “Men seeking Transgender” and “Transgender seeking Men”. Quite a few of the ads have pictures included, often very explicit. None of these pictures were posted here, primarily because they have people’s faces or other identifying characteristics. The pictures are usually close-ups of erect penises, naked or lingerie body shots, or pictures of the women in submissive sexual positions, designed to further entice potential partners, establish sexual roles, as well as make sure that they know what they are getting if they agree to reply and meet up. In an atmosphere like Craigslist, where having sex with new people is essentially the point and transphobic violence is a stark reality, anything that helps ensure that sexual negotiations go smoothly and recognize compatibility should be utilized.

 

 

Many of the ads also include some sort of sexual role  indicator phrase like “top”, “bottom”, “dom” and “sub”, which are also consistent with the same ones used in SM communities, where there is obvious overlap. Tobin (2014) explains that:

For some trans folks, less common practices such as BDSM…can provide spaces of erotic empowerment–a space in which top and bottom, dominant and submissive, or other erotic roles can be much more salient than gender (P. 26)

The sexuality and gender identities of the advertisers are ranging and seemingly fluid. Looking through them, one comes across terms like “TS” (transsexual), “CD/TV” (crossdresser/transvestite), “MtF”, “pre-op”, and “trans sissy” as gender identifications. The cisgender men sometimes explicitly put down in their ads that they are straight or bisexual, or choose not to put down what they conceive their sexual orientation as in their descriptors of themselves. It could possibly be that they are unsure, apathetic, or feel it is less important to a potential partner than their height, age, and penis length. However, it is interesting to note that these ads do generally follow the conceptualizations of “top” or “dom” as masculine/male and “bottom/sub” as feminine/female (Newmahr 2011:108-109), with the cisgender men primarily stating that they are “tops” and the women establishing that they are the “bottoms”; but that both are secure in their overall masculinity or femininity if the roles are reversed, establishing the space as a facilitator to explore what is considered less conventional sexual roles.

-Levi

 

Blog #1: “Murder and Moral Panic: The Crafting of Violent Homosexual Perversion in the Leopold and Loeb Trial”

In 1924, two young, rich University of Chicago students with an intense friendship named Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb kidnapped and murdered 14 year old Bobby Franks. They claimed to have tried to commit “the perfect murder”, but were caught rather quickly when the police found Leopold’s unique and expensive glasses that he had accidentally dropped near the body. The subsequent media circus and trial revealed a lot about conceptions of wealth, homosexuality, and sexual deviance in Prohibition-era America that existed throughout rest the 20th century. The murder has been the subject and inspiration for numerous books, plays, films, and TV episodes that continue into today, as well as helping to further cement popular tropes about gay men and criminals.

The element of the case that has captured the popular imagination and attention has been the relationship between the two men and whether or not it was sexual/romantic in nature. Though there were apparently some sexual aspects between Leopold and Loeb, it was the idea that they were lovers that drove the idea that they were sexual deviants.

In Leopold and Loeb’s own fictionalized account of the day of the murder, they represented themselves as the very image of out-of-control youth by combing the theme of excessive drinking and the specter of casual premarital sex. …. While it is impossible to know exactly why Leopold and Loeb employed such tropes, one possible explanation is that the image of heterosexually aggressive college kids served to undermine speculation in the press that the murder was the work of “perverts”. (P. 292)

They were highly intelligent guys, they very well knew what the public thought of them and how that would affect how their case went, since this was a matter of life or death for them.

 

It was too scandalous at this time and possibly libelous (the boys came from very well-connected, wealthy Chicago families) for the media to actually say outright the young men were homosexual, they had to imply it heavily.

The ideological constructions of Leopold and Loeb as sexually deviant in the earliest journalistic accounts were seldom blatant declarations that the young men were homosexual. Instead, the newspaper employed a referential strategy, matching Leopold and Loeb to “queer” things or people. (P. 298)

Not only did this have the effect of saying that the young men were homosexual without explicitly using the phrase, but also continued to perpetuate the link between these “queer” things and dangerous criminality. In fact, some of the early suspects were some of Bobby Franks’ male teachers, one of whom was suspected of being gay because he had effeminate mannerisms (2009:297), which seems to be the only reason why he was investigated for the crime.

One of these “queer” things that the media hyped up was the fact that Leopold was an admirer of the gay British writer Oscar Wilde. The connection to Wilde is an interesting one, since, like the boys, Wilde was highly intellectual, well-dressed, rich, and also known for a “crime of perversion” against a younger male. And, as history tells, the court case did not go well for Wilde either. “By evoking Wilde, the press compared the young ment with a notorious historical figure who was the very embodiment of highly civilized and elite sexual deviance and the very antithesis of normative virile masculinity (2009:299). Through their talented, very expensive lawyer and use of the claim that they were “mentally ill”, Leopold and Loeb managed to escape the death penalty and got life imprisonment (though Loeb was killed in prison in 1936 be an inmate who tried to claim that he did it because Loeb tried to sexually assault him, causing another homosexual panic). Though this case happened a few years before the 1929 Stock Market Crash that began the Great Depression, this case was one that only furthered the mythos of the homosexual (or allegedly homosexual) man as a smart, non-typical masculine, well-dressed criminal deviant . This conception hasn’t gone away, we still see it in films today; next time you watch Skyfall, I suggest looking more closely at Raoul Silva.

-Levi Jones

Sources:

Churchill, David S. 2009. “The Queer Histories of a Crime: Representations and Narratives of Leopold and Loeb.” Journal of the History of Sexuality 18(2):287-324.

Larger than Life: The Sexuality and Personas of Burlesque Performers in Baltimore

For this project, I visited Workin’ the Tease: The Art of Burlesque in Baltimore, an exhibit in the Lyric Opera House curated by MICA students.  The students worked to put together a display featuring original costume pieces from the performers, biographies and photos of the performers in their everyday-wear and their costume personas, and also historic write-ups and artifacts from the 1920s and 1930s, known as the “Golden Age of Burlesque” in Baltimore.

A walk-through of the exhibit was led by two MICA students who worked as the curators.  When looking at the images of the performers in their daily wear versus performance outfits, they were very keen to point out the “intelligence” of the performers.  The students often referred to how “smart” the performers are (some even being professors during their day-jobs), and emphasized that burlesque is a “performative art, not just stripping.”  They noted that burlesque is actually a parody and is meant to make fun of what is popular.  It can be associated with Vaudeville and is often over-the-top performances featuring music, dancing, rare talents, often (but not always) in a sexual manner.  The students even referred to Saturday Night Live as a form of “modern burlesque.”

In addition to these performers, it was interesting to note that the students distinguished “burlesque” from “boylesque,” which is burlesque featuring men.  This lends itself to the notion that burlesque is primarily performed by women in a feminine way, but this is not always the case.  Similar to Heasely’s work, “boylesque” could be categorized within queer masculinities.  Queer masculinities are defined as “ways of being masculine outside hetero-normative constructions of masculinity that disrupt, or have the potential to disrupt, traditional images of the hegemonic heterosexual masculine” (310).  Two specific Baltimore male performers named Oliver Hot and Stanley Bothered, who go by “Hot and Bothered,” do acts that are “straight man funny” and do not involve stripping.  In fact, they wear typically unattractive clothing, such as baggy pants and silly tops with suspenders.  Their acts are modeled off of slap-stick humor, such as that of Abott and Costello, and feature live trumpet performance.  However, another male performer named Paco-Fish, does embody more of the traditional burlesque routine and dresses as a woman wearing elaborate make-up, and includes a strip tease.  Both of these acts threaten traditional hegemonic masculinity by being burlesque performances that are not really seen as masculine, but they are definitely on different parts of the spectrum to how threatening they are to masculinity.

Similar to Newmahr’s explanation of the use of pseudonyms within SM communities, Burlesque performers only refer to themselves with their stage name.  These names are often both witty and sexy.  For instance, some names include “Kay Sera,” “Mourna Handful,” and “Sunny Sighed.”  The performers prefer to only go by their stage names because they believe that their real names are their “slave name” and that these persona names offer them transformative experience that allows them to be larger than life.  For the performers, the act of performing and taking on a stage name is similar to engaging in an SM scene in that it is mind-altering and allows the performer to go into a sub-space of the mind, almost like an out-of-body experience.

Burlesque also overlaps with SM given the theme of “nerdlesque” that is present through both.  Newmahr emphasizes that individuals in the SM community tend to be marginalized people.  Similarly, the Burlesque scene features performers whose costumes are modeled off of popular “cult/nerd” films, such as the Goblin King outfit designed after The Labyrinth (see photo).

Given that many people observed strip clubs at the Bloc for this project, it was also fascinating that this exhibit featured a bit of history on the Bloc.  Apparently, during the 1920s and 1930s, the Bloc was full of famous Burlesque show houses, as this was known as the “Golden Age” of Burlesque.  At this time, a performer named Blaze Starr was the most famous performer in all of Burlesque.  Then, of course the Great Depression happened – but this wasn’t what entirely killed the Burlesque scene on the Bloc; when the 1970s came around, prostitution and drugs caused the Bloc to become too dangerous and patrons stopped coming for Burlesque shows.  As Burlesque died down in Baltimore, it was until the 1990s that it was revived with a “neo-burlesque” movement.  Now, you can find Burlesque shows happening all throughout Baltimore, primarily with the main troupe Trixie Little and the Evil Hate Monkey.  Burlesque still struggles to be recognized as a tasteful and artful form of performance.  The only way to decide whether or not this is true is to go see a show for yourself…

By Liz Weiner

Sources

Newmahr, Staci. 2011. Playing on the Edge: Sadomasochism, Risk, and Intimacy. Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press.

Heasley, Robert. 2005. “Queer Masculinities of Straight Men : A Typology.” Men and Masculinities 7:310-320.

BOUNDED BY STRIPPING: A REFLECTION ON MY TIME AT A BALTIMORE STRIP CLUB

This past Friday, I visited a strip club on The Block in Baltimore.  This particular portion of Baltimore Street is known among Baltimore residents as a nighttime (and sometimes, a daytime) hotspot for all things sex, but perhaps most notoriously for its strip clubs.  It was just before nine o’clock, but already the streets were laden with sketchy-looking characters, many of whom appeared to be nodding off on the sidewalk, and I had an uneasy feeling about leaving the relative safety of my friend’s car.  After talking to a police officer, and inquiring about our personal security, or lack thereof, in the clubs, we (my two friends and I) parked the Honda Fit we had fondly named DeJay after two of our favorite professors, and wandered off into the great unknown.

The great unknown, as it turned out, was not so unknown.  As we entered the club, after being asked if we were looking for a job (because what else would three 21-year-old girls be doing at a strip club?), a woman called out my friend’s name.  My friend glimpsed in her direction, and didn’t recognize the woman, so we continued walking.  The woman persisted, and followed us to our seats, identifying herself as Charlotte.*  It finally clicked for my friend: she had worked with this woman in a prison rehabilitation program during her freshman year of college.  The most striking aspect of this interaction, for me, was the fact that my friend did not recognize Charlotte whatsoever, until Charlotte gave a description of their history.  This short period of communication, along with other behavior I witnessed from many of the girls that night, points to a much deeper and insidious aspect of the prostitution industry, specifically with regard to stripping.

CHOICE AND DRUG USE AMONG STRIPPERS AND PROSTITUTES

Though the book we are finishing in class, Selling Sex Overseas, does not really discuss drug use among sex workers, it was abundantly clear during my night at this club that drugs were a central aspect of the scene there, and I have a hard time believing that this wasn’t the case at other clubs on the same block, and probably many others in America (although I can’t say that for certain).  The first evidence we saw of this was the mere fact that my friend did not recognize Charlotte, someone she had met only a few years earlier, and had spent a fair amount of time with.  When Charlotte walked away to go to one of the VIP rooms with a customer, my friend expressed how shocked she was at Charlotte’s appearance: her eyes looked sunken, her nose appeared to be on the verge of collapsing, and she looked about forty years old—fifteen years older than she actually is.  And this changed occurred over the course of two and a half years.  When I saw Charlotte initially, I knew she did not look like a healthy person, but I would never in my wildest dreams have guessed her true age given her appearance.  I will admit that our first interaction with Charlotte shocked me a bit, and probably influenced the way I experienced the rest of my time there—the experience suddenly became personal (well, by one degree of separation).

Over the course of the rest of the night, I saw two different bartenders (both women) take pills that I knew, based on their subsequent behavior, were not ibuprofen.  I also started taking a closer look at the other girls’ behavior—when they were sitting around and chatting with one another, when they were with a man, and when it was their turn on the stage.  It was clear that most of them were, at the very least, pretty intoxicated, and at the worst, under the influence of more extreme substances.  Perhaps the most revealing moment of the night came when we talked with Charlotte a short time later, and my friend asked her what had happened to her since her successful completion of the rehab program—in short, why she had fallen back on old habits, when things had seemed so promising for her and her then-four-year-old daughter. Her response was: “The only way I can do this job is if I’m f—ed up.”  And this job clearly makes her more money than any other could with her G.E.D. and lack of a college education.

It was almost as if this was scripted so that I could make a connection with our classwork—I immediately thought of the concept bounded rationality, which Chin and Finckenauer use in their book Selling Sex Overseas (2012).  As Chin and Finckenauer explain, this concept in general refers to people’s tendency to “make what may appear to them to be the best decision or choice given their circumstances at the time.  Consequently, their decision making is bounded—constrained or restricted—by their social, physical, and situational contexts, and their perceptions of those contexts…” (63).  The authors use this theory to explain why Chinese women who come from economic difficulty and other socially limiting circumstances choose to become prostitutes: it is the occupation that they believe will be the most lucrative given their degree of education and current situation.  There is a clear tie to be made with regard to prostitutes and strippers in the United States, particularly those I came across on Friday: the women have low levels of education, and know they will make much more money stripping or being prostitutes than they would at any of the blue-collar jobs they believe they are destined for.

Though Chin and Finckenauer do not discuss the role of drugs, they are a clear mediator in the scene that I witnessed on Friday, and Charlotte summed it up perfectly: she has to be in some kind of alternative state to perform the way she does, and therefore to make money.  However, what started for her, and many other women, as a lucrative nighttime escapade, has turned into something that she uses solely to fuel her habit.  My friend remembered that many of the girls in the rehab program were also strippers, and said they did not start doing it to support their drug habits—they simply wanted to make money to support themselves.  But drugs seem inextricably linked to stripping and prostitution in the scene that these women began stripping in, and now they have little chance of escape.

MALE-CENTERED NATURE OF THE CLUB

Upon entering the club, it immediately became clear that the clientele were almost exclusively men.  First, there were only male customers inside, either sitting and watching the “show,” talking with a woman, or doing much more than talking with a woman.  Throughout the night, we saw men we hadn’t previously seen emerge from the V.I.P area, so it was clear that there were more customers than we had originally thought.  Second, there were three flat screen t.v.’s in the club, and each was showing a different sport.  If that doesn’t scream male-centered, I don’t know what does.  Third—and I mentioned this above—when we were about to enter the club, a man asked us if we were “looking for a job.”  We tried to dress as modestly as possible, specifically so that we wouldn’t be targeted, but our best efforts had clearly failed—being a younger woman, no matter what outfit you have on, automatically labels you as a potential employee in this scene.

It was also undeniable that the club catered not only to men in general, but to men who embodied a hegemonic form of masculinity.  For instance, it was assumed that all men (or at least, most men) would appreciate sports being played on the television.  Newsflash: not all men like to watch sports.  The music being played was clearly demeaning to women—lyrics like “girl, shake that a- – for me” were in nearly every song.  And to be sure, “girl” was definitely “shaking that a- -”; the women knew very well how to appeal to these men, and what their expectations were.  It was clearly the men who defined the acceptable boundaries for every behavior, particularly when they were alone with one of the women.  There were decals on the wall that depicted the outline of a highly sexualized female body, where the most prominent (and actually, the only truly visible) features were her breasts and buttocks.

I saw more men than I expected simply sitting and talking, and, from what it looked like, just cuddling with girls.  I was surprised when I saw that, and was almost angry at myself, because for about two seconds I almost felt bad for the men—maybe they felt inadequate or underappreciated in other parts of their lives, so they turned to strip clubs and prostitutes to fill the void.  I had spent the night seething with hatred for the men I saw in the club, but for that brief moment, I wondered if they maybe just wanted to feel close to someone—maybe they were seeking intimacy that they lacked in their lives.  In writing this, I thought of Newmahr’s concept of intimacy in her book Playing on the Edge: Sadomasochism, Risk, and Intimacy (2011).  Newmahr explains that we normally conceptualize intimacy as something with positive connotations, something that cannot occur without consent.  But, she posits, we only focus on the appreciation of intimacy, and do not acknowledge that it can occur even if it is one-sided—for instance, as awful as it sounds, there is still a degree of intimacy in rape (178).  Even though the intimacy in the case of rape is unwanted, it is still present.  Intimacy equals access, and access is present in many forms of contact.  This can be connected to my hypothesis about men seeking some form of acceptance that they don’t gain elsewhere: even if the women do not experience the same level of appreciation that the men do, intimacy is still woven into the experience, and the man experiences it to whatever degree he allows himself.  He has gained access, and thus he has experienced a certain degree of intimacy.

CONCLUSION

These two topics encompass the main, and what I perceived to be the most important, themes that I saw present at the strip club I went to.  From my time there, it was evident, as stated above, that men who embody hegemonic masculinity are the driving force behind expressions of sex—they are the ones who define it.  In addition, it is clear that many of the women have chosen this occupation because they feel they have no other choice, and know they will make more money as strippers and/or prostitutes than they would at any other job within their reach.  However, this one strip club by no means represents them all, and I do not intend the information in this blog to be extended to every strip club in Baltimore, or in America.

 

*This name has been changed to preserve anonymity

-Moriah Patashnik

WORKS CITED:

Newmahr, Staci. 2011. Playing on the Edge: Sadomasochism, Risk, and

            Intimacy. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.

Chin, Ko-Lin, and James O. Finckenauer.  2012.  Selling Sex Overseas:

Chinese Women and the Realities of Prostitution and Global Sex Trafficking.

New York, NY: New York University Press.

You and me baby ain’t nothin but mammals

Goucher is not exactly known to be the biggest party school, especially when it comes to on campus parties.  But there is one party that is almost always guaranteed to not get shut down – Heubeck parties.  Heubeck parties, Goucher sponsored parties with a DJ held in the Heubeck multipurpose room, typically occur at least two times a semester.  They are typically held after an on campus event, in this instance, the fashion show, and are typically planned and sponsored by a specific on campus organization.  I chose the Heubeck party as a site to observe some form of sex in a public setting because I have always been fascinated by Heubeck parties and the various interpretations that are available from them that contribute to various meanings of sex.

I have been to my fair share of Heubeck parties over the past three years at Goucher and after using this past weekend’s party as an observation site, I learned a lot by looking at the party through a different lens and perspective.  First, I think it’s important to consider the type of crowd that the Heubeck parties attract.  Typically, the crowd attracts underage students who don’t necessarily have the option to go out off campus.  This party was thrown by Umoja: the Black Student Union, which attracted students that are either affiliated with the organization or are friends with people who are affiliated.  

The party was not as crowded as it sometimes get, which actually made it more interesting to observe because there was much more space and everything that occurred was much more public and visible.  Drinking typically occurs before these parties and it is usually pretty evident based on individuals’ behaviors.  The crowd consisted of a fair amount more females than there were males.  

Although the parties are intended to be dancing parties, I decided to observe the party through themes that have been discussed in class this semester.  The main theme I was hoping to understand through these observations was, “the desire of sex”.  I was particularly interested in the different ways one would initiate a dance with another.  If I were to further this research, I would be interested in finding out how one chooses who they want to dance with and who they don’t want to dance with.  The process of initiating a dance reminds me of the process of asking to “play” and the process of consent found in Newmahr’s (2011) book.  

Newmahr identifies three specific ways in which a bottom could receive more invitations to play.  Bottoms who are contributive to the enjoyment of play, specifically for the tops, bottoms who have a higher pain tolerance, whom are therefore more creative, and bottoms who are more edgy or extreme, whom tend to have a higher social status, are all implications for being likely to receive more invitations to play (p. 100).  Because Newmahr’s book lays down distinctive ways in which one could receive more invitations to play, it made me consider if there were such distinctions when asking someone to dance.

Although there are significantly less risks to dancing at a Heubeck party than there are with engaging in SM, I observed that there is still a level of consent that occurs when trying to dance with someone.  The process of consent is not as defined in this context and it typically occurs within a three to eight second window.  The initiating a dance at these parties has generally become limited to an individual inviting themselves to stand behind someone already dancing or to grab them and pull them closer so that their bodies are touching.  The mutual consent results in both parties continuing to dance and if there is no consent, the person in the front will typically walk away.

This process brings up two interesting points that are found in Newmahr’s book.  One, the book made me consider the people at the party as tops and bottoms, or in this case, “fronts” and “backs”.  Two, the initiating a dance has become limited to one party almost assuming that the other party would like to dance or “play”, if we analyze the process through Newmahr.  Consent occurs almost completely after already engaging in some type of physical touching between two parties.  This idea not only challenges all levels of consent that Newmahr highlights in her book, but it also challenged me to think of how this process at the Heubeck parties communicates desire.  I observed each individual as a sexual actor and assumed everybody was there to participate as a sexual actor.  

Watching a “back” initiate a dance challenged me to believe that the process of consent is limited and undefined because of the assumption that everybody desires the same thing and that individuals are at the Heubeck party because they want to dance. Their presence almost communicates the desire to engage in dancing and it assumes that that is what each individual desired.  It is important to understand that I viewed dancing as a form of “play” and while Newmahr identifies SM as nonsexual, I viewed the behaviors within this party with a strictly sexual lens.

By observing dancing at these parties through a sexual lens, it further communicated forms of desire and caused me to not only observe the desire to dance, but the desire to engage in sexual activity as well.  Some of the body movements and physical touching and gestures made it fairly easy for me to view the movements as communicating the desire of sex.  It was interesting to observe the party through this lens because it created a larger assumption that because this was a college party with college students, that all college students desire sex.  This concept is discussed in Currier’s (2013) article about strategic ambiguity.  The article identifies that “the social-sexual scene is based on both actual hookups (“sometimes it happens”) and the perceived potential and desire (“everyone is out there to hook up”), and this potential is a constant undercurrent in the social interactions on college campuses” (p. 712).  So, were all individuals that were at the party there for the same reason?

I enjoyed observing the Heubeck party for this assignment because it really made me consider the topic of sex on college campuses.  It made me further analyze the desires of college students and more specifically, the desire of sex.  It also made me consider my own reasons for attending Heubeck parties in the past and it made me analyze my own concepts of desire.  Although I came to the conclusion that I have not attended Heubeck parties as a sexual actor, I began to analyze the circumstances within the assumption that college campuses create a space in which the assumption is that “everybody’s doing it”.  Because I realized that not everybody will be viewing Heubeck parties with a sociological lens, and that not everybody will be standing on the side analyzing what types of desires “twerking” is communicating, I realized how easy it is to assume, in a space such as a college campus.

I was extremely fascinated observing the event and realized that I, too, was quick to identify everybody in the party as a sexual being and therefore analyzed their behaviors as communicating desires.  The party made me curious as to what occurred after the party and the individuals’ next move.  I realized that I was making predictions and assumptions about certain individuals and what they would be doing after, based on their “performance” at the Heubeck party.  Although I was tempted to, I did not follow anybody after the party to see if I was right (lol).  I learned a lot by observing this party and about the types of desires that are assumed to be communicated within certain spaces, such as college campuses.  I stood and watched as the party ended and the lights came on, as each sexual actor exited the multipurpose room as “The Bad Touch” played in my head.

-Jeannie Goodell

Sources:

Currier, Danielle M. 2013. “Strategic Ambiguity: Protecting Emphasized Femininity and Hegemonic Masculinity in the Hookup Culture.” Gender and Society 27:704-27.

Newmahr, Staci. 2011. Playing on the Edge: Sadomasochism, Risk, and Intimacy. Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press.

Sugar: A sex positive Adult Store

     I planned to attend the singles’ mixer at Sugar, a sex shop located near Johns Hopkins University.

     Prior to arrival, I viewed at the business’ website. The mission statement at the bottom of their page reads, “Sugar is a lesbian owned, multi-gender operated, for profit, mission driven sex toy store. By providing education and toys in a shame-free, sex-positive environment, we help people of all genders and sexual orientations experience their own unique sexuality with shameless joy and passion. The shop truly embodies this goal. The educational and open quality of the page initially surprised me. The first tab on the left hand column is labeled “sex info.” Topics covered in this portion of the website include “hot safer sex,” “keeping sexual relationships hot” and “vibrators” I was intrigued by the educational component of the page. Additionally, the number and character of educational classes that were being offered in the upcoming month surprised me. In addition to the single’s mixer, people could choose to attend an introduction to orgasmic meditation, and informational classes on male and female pleasure. With 6 events planned for the month of May, education and improving individuals’ sexual experiences were highlighted as a fundamental goal of the owners of Sugar.

     I decided to go to the mixer with three female friends, all single straight college students. In the car on the way to the event, I asked them what they were expecting and how they were feeling. The general consensus was that they were nervous, but excited. They decided that there would either be a surprisingly large number of people at the mixer, or none at all. As it turns out, the latter guess was correct. After the twenty-minute drive, we parked and entered the shop. Located on a busy street corner, we followed the website’s advice and looked for the tinted windows.

     Upon entrance we were greeted by a middle-aged woman who asked us if we were there for the mixer. We said that we were. She told us that turn out was lower than expected and asked if we would still like to pay the $5 to participate. She suggested that we look around the shop and join the mixer if more people arrived. Ultimately, the only other attendees to the mixer were two middle-aged males and a middle-aged woman. Consequently, the event was cancelled and it was decided that is should be rescheduled.  

   Nevertheless, two of the participants seemed to be interested in each other; they spent the whole time were there talking to each other, they made eye contact, both people had open body language, and they even walked out the door together. This interaction made me think of sexual scripting. Simon and Gagnon describe that sexual scripts provide guidelines for individuals’ sexual behavior. If certain cues are in place, a sexual interaction may occur. If not, an event will not occur (1984:56). One might assume that this couple, had they been in a bar, were in a relationship. However, as the setting was a sex positive sex shop, the cues were muddled. On one hand, they were both available singles who were around the same age and might hold pretty liberal ideas about sexuality, as suggested by their presence in the shop. While, on the other hand, this location, an adult store, and timing, the afternoon, is not featured in cultural discussions on how to meet someone. I wondered if their departure from prevalent sexual script hurt or helped their chances of finding a partner.

      If I had not read the store’s mission statement, I would have assumed that they were committed to offering educational resources and were committed to meeting the needs of people with varying sexual and gender orientations. In the spirit of creating a shame-free and educational environment for all, there were also resources to help people not of these identities understand why someone might be interested in acquiring an item they were selling. An excellent example of this is a sign that read, “What is this prosthetic flaccid penis about, you ask?” If explained clearly that people who want a penis, but don’t already have one or, people who would like to create the appearance of being more well endowed might desire this item. Signs similar to this one were located throughout the store. Near the assorted condom section, a sign was posted stating that using two condoms actually increases the chances that the condom will break and that using one condom in more effective at preventing STIs and pregnancy. In this way, the store catered to the needs of people with nonheteronormative sexual identities and varying gender identities as well as sought to educate people who might not come from a background that would educate them about these matters.

       

     The items carried also demonstrated the owners’ commitment to education and sex positivity. They sold books about embracing self stimulation, how to improve your partner’s pleasure, how to relate and connect with your partner, and how to engage in sexual activity after experiencing sexual trauma. They offered a selection of toys and tools that catered towards the needs of a variety of people in the LGBTQIA community. Additionally, they sold specially shaped pillows designed to help couples accommodate for low flexibility or physical limitations. The culture the owners tried to create was clearly one of acceptance and openness.

     In this way, I was reminded of the SM community. While visitors to the sex shop share a common interest in exploring their sexuality, as evidenced by the range of products offered, they belong to different groups and possess different identities. Within the SM community of Caeden, many people from marginal identities share a common interest in an environment in which safety and health are primary focuses (Newmahr 2011:39-55). In this adult store, the focus was on exploring sexual interests that may not be commonly accepted while protecting the physical and mental health of the individual. My experience in this adult store reinforced lessons learned during the semester.

“A Grab Bag of Fun. Without the Grabbing”: A Peek into the World of Burlesque Life Drawing

 

I was surprised to stumble upon the Dr. Sketchy website in my search for an event in the area that would be relevant for this project. In hindsight, it seems logical that there would be life-drawing events such as this one in a city with an art school. After reading on the website that Dr. Sketchy is an “Anti-Art School,” I had expected the event to lack structure. The language on the website implied that the event would have erotic overtones (Dr. Sketchy 2014).

Before the Drawing Began

My friend and I arrived at the venue somewhat early. We had our choice of seats and sat in the second row. The stage was set up to reflect the burlesque theme, though it is difficult to articulate how this was achieved specifically. Furthermore, the owls perched on the sound system gave the stage a whimsical quality. As the seats began to fill, it became clear that most of the people attending the event knew each other already. I was immediately reminded of Newmahr (2011), who emphasized the fact that the SM scene was a community. With a few exceptions, most of the attendees were students at MICA. Many of the conversations I overheard were about daily life at college.

The Life-Drawing Itself

Eventually, the host of the event appeared on stage and introduced the models. She explained the structure of the life-drawing session, which was very familiar to my friend and foreign to me. Throughout the evening, the models would pose, staying in each pose for an increasing amount of time. The first poses were held for one minute each and the final pose would be held for twenty minutes. In the moment, the act of drawing the poses of live models did not feel sexualized. Rather, drawing the models functioned as a starting point for tapping into my artistic imagination as a whole.

While the general public views of both burlesque and life drawing as sexualized to some degree, my participation in this hybrid event did not reflect this discourse. Newmahr (2011) makes similar assertions about SM. While the media portrays SM as primarily sexual in focus, the experiences portrayed in Playing on the Edge serve as evidence that simplistic imaginings of these communities are publicized at the expense of their perceived richness and complexity.

One of my friend’s drawings

 

After the Life-Drawing

Green’s (2008) concept of the sexual field figures into the world of burlesque life-drawing in an interesting way. In this context, the erotic capital of the models’ bodies is transferred to the art that is produced. For example, halfway through the evening there was a blind contouring contest. To qualify, the artist had to create his or her rendering of the models’ five minute pose without looking down at the paper or lifting his or her pen. For the five minutes of the contest, all eyes were fixed on the models. In a sense, the models became the only two inhabitants of a sexual field. This may seem to contradict my previous assertion that this activity was not sexual in practice but the connection to Green exists in that each artist was put in a position to judge the models within an erotic framework. It is possible that my perception of the implied judgment of the models was heightened by the fact that there were two models. This is not to say that I consciously compared the two models. Rather, I realized afterwards that I had focused more on one of the models in my drawings.   Ultimately, this instance of burlesque life-drawing was erotic as opposed to sexual and gave me an interesting introduction into the world of the creation of erotic art in public spaces.

Emily Fendler

Works Cited

Dr. Sketchy 2014. Baltimore Dr. Sketchy. Retrieved May 1, 2014

(http://drsketchysbaltimore.com)

 

Green, Adam Isaiah. 2008. “The Social Organization of Desire: The Sexual Fields

Approach.” Sociological Theory 26(1): 25-50.

 

Newmahr, Staci. 2011. Playing on the Edge: Sadomasochism, Risk, and

 Intimacy. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.

Dance Like Everybody is Watching: Observations on Desire in Three Strip Clubs on Baltimore’s The Block.

Nina K.

Entering the Club

We thought it was important to recruit a small clique to go strip-club-hopping. The initial reason my fellow researcher and I wanted to go in a large group was because we were afraid of how uncomfortable we’d feel in the strip clubs. Though, once our group of seven settled into the first joint of the night, which I’ll call Club A, (and I found myself feeling a lot less awkward than I had anticipated), I realized that the observations of my cohorts that night would enhance my brief study of desire in the context of exotic dance clubs.

For about a one and a half block stretch on East Baltimore Street about twenty strip clubs are nestled together. Better known as “The Block,” this community of clubs has been devoted to the business of sex and stripping since the early 20^th century. To the group of us it seemed a very unfamiliar setting. We’ve been socialized to associate stripping and strip clubs with inferior occupations, dangerous spaces, and unsavory characters. Taught to believe we shouldn’t be there, I walked through the door excited with hopes of learning more about sex in my culture and sex on The Block.

Sex is money. Money is Sex.

Not too differently from the rest of society, a capitalist drive to make a profit was deeply evident in my observations. At the strip club, sex is defined by money and vise versa. Money solidifies everyone’s place in the club and acts as both a tool in exploitation and liberation of the women who entertained us. In her participatory ethnography about life as an exotic dancer Eaves (2004) writes,

The money was corrupting. The part of stripping that I found the most difficult had not been working the booth, or even lap dancing. It was working the floor of a club and providing all the false kindness that the customers expected in exchange for cash… Even more sinister, however, was the way customers treated these exchanges as normal. They wanted fawning, illusive female charm, and they knew that it was for sale along with everything else. (P. 324).

The strippers are doing what Hochschild (1983) would call emotional labor, as they modify their behavior to come off as appealing to customers and encourage patrons to believe they are receiving special attention. Money is the fuel that keeps the illusion going, as they work to develop a fantasy world for themselves and for patrons. Much like in the SM community studied by Newmahr (2011), the dancers create new names and characters for themselves in the erotic setting. Similarly, there exists an intricate set of rules and rituals in the clubs that preserve the fantasy and build up a suggestion of intimacy between dancer and patron.

Working the Hegemonic Stage

All three strip clubs that were visited played into hegemonic masculinity, defined by Currier (2014) as the form of manhood most valued by society (p.706). The clubs also embraced the narrative of emphasized femininity: the pattern of femaleness that is idolized culturally, which favors compliance, sociability and sexual receptivity to men as characteristic in women (p.706). Exotic dancers and the clubs that hire them believe they can make the most money by playing into these definitions of gender and sexual dynamics accepted by mainstream society as the norm. In this way, the whole scene is defined by the ideal types of woman, man, and sex, which we’re willing to pay the most for. Currier identifies three ways in which women conform to emphasized femininity, all of which as evident in the strip club culture. Firstly, they disregard their sexual desire and the reciprocation of pleasure, the culture doesn’t acknowledge the importance of female pleasure, and the girls are encouraged to be vague about their occupation and downplay their stripping identity as to not be stigmatized (p.717). Throughout the clubs I visited female dancers emphasized their femininity to get the most money possible.

The most telling aspect of their womanhood, their bodies, is what men pay to see revealed. The dancers strip off their already tiny outfits and then dance in ways that often suggest penal/vaginal intercourse (such as moves like twerking in a split or gyrating up against the phallic pole). However in one instance, a dancer at the second club we visited, Club B., laid out on her back on the stage with her pelvis tilted towards two wealthy older men in the club and started to pleasure herself in their direction. This was the only instance of female pleasure charged behavior in an effort to get tips I saw the whole night.

It became apparent to me rather fast that men were going to the strip clubs not only to admire the bodies of the dancers but also to reaffirm their own masculinity. Two of my heterosexual identifying male friends were apart of the group that joined me for my observations. Both had never been to a strip club before, and through observing their behaviors I found that the clubs seemed to be spaces where they were urged to negotiated their masculine identities. My one friend Will (no real names used) is someone who often prides himself on being a feminist. I anticipated him to be uncomfortable in the strip club. However, Will became very enthusiastic, comfortably watching while he slid all his dollar bills into G-strings, “I want to support them” he told me “but I also love the booty. And it was exciting because I’ve never seen naked breasts in public like that.” In contrast, my friend Peter, who I’ve always known to be a hyper masculine/hyper hetero male, shrunk into himself watching at the bar, “I just can’t stop thinking about the history of white male sexually exploiting black females.” He told me as we watched a dancer in the third and final club of the night, Club C. “It’s making me sad.” The strip club brought out Will’s hegemonic masculine sexuality and stifled Peter’s.

Stripping: Feminist Expression?

However, there are many arguments to be made that becoming an exotic dancer is the far from sad. The dancers I observed were all incredible athletes whose pure physical strength amazed me. Many have claimed to find liberation in exotic dance. Eaves (2004) remarks, “there had been no place else to put the volatile mix I had inside: desire and vanity, seductiveness and anger, exhibitionism and self-consciousness. Stripping, in retrospect, looked like a much-needed outlet, and I wondered what would have happened to all that energy if I had never taken the job” (p.318). Watching the women so boldly share their bodies and express their sexuality through dance inspired empowerment within my own being.

This was a feeling shared by my female friends on the outing, one of which, Esther, was invited to dance on stage at Club A. Albeit confused by our enjoyment and empowerment by watching Esther poll dance, it became clear that in opposition to the exploitative male powers that profit off the dancers is a inherent female sexual empowerment that exists, however muddled. “To some the term ‘feminist stripper’ is ironic, but it’s not an oxymoron,” writes Eaves (2004) as she discusses the feminist debate of stripping,

It’s just that one has to become a very extreme feminist to remain a stripper. When men don’t matter at all, stripping makes perfect sense. It’s the natural result of combining sexual freedom with a hostile, anti-male feminism. If men are seen as something to control or ignore, what they think of women is beside the point. (P. 319).

In each club I went into each girl seemed to walk a line of being in control and being at the mercy of the patrons. This is the very same line all women walk or have walked before in terms of their sexuality. The dancers use their bodies as a celebration of female sexuality. Principally, they dance to be economically independent. Stripping has been vilified because in the context of our social discourse on sex it lives in contradiction to what we believe is “good” sexuality; it is a unauthentic connection, it plays into adultery, female sexuality is being paid for not hidden.

However, while I saw many hands of oppression in the club I struggle with pitying the strippers who I have a lot of respect for. Newmahr (2011) too spends a large part of her study negotiating “the feminist question” in SM in which women players are submissive to male dominators. Similarly to how some feminists make an argument for stripping she writes, “SM play for women negotiates the edge of everyday fears and affirms their ability to confront the ultimate threat: the hands of a man, literally and metaphorically” (p.183). The dancers create boundaries and limits but their own efforts to control often fall weak up against the opportunity to make a lot more money than they usually would. In all three clubs a bar around the circumference of the stage acted as physical limit between the dancer and the patron.

Additionally, there is a common rule of look but don’t touch in this world which allows for the dancer to have some control over the access she grants to the customer. It quickly became clear to me that if men wanted more they had to make their wealth obvious. One man paid for his drink with a hundred dollar bill, which quickly led to a dancer being at his side, sometimes giving him a lap dance and sometimes just holding his hand and laughing at his jokes. Another lap dance was simultaneously occurring across the bar from me but no pleasantries were being exchanged. The dancer faced away from the customer as she grinded on his crotch. I was surprised to see that see too allowed him to run his hands all over her. While stripping can be interpreted as a liberating for of sexual expression for women, the control that makes that autonomy possible is easily compromised by cash.

Defining Desire in the Strip Club

Desire is the spell that keeps the business strip clubs I visited in business. Each club we explored used desire to appeal to different niche audiences revealed in the “type” of girls dancing on stage. The first club was all white women, the second had all slender black women, and the third housed only curvy black dancers. The desires of the patrons are what the club markets on and remolds night-to-night depending on the customers who walk in. Desire is also something that can be manufactured by dress (or lack there of) and makeup. On a trip to the bathroom I was led through the girls dressing room, which was scattered with endless hair and make up supplies. There, the dancers transform themselves into what they believe the customers want to see. My observations found that desire is often molded by what we anticipate the reaction of others to be. For patrons, I found that when one girl got attention others would start to celebrate her too. The strip clubs I visited highlighted desire as subject to the social context of its setting and driven by our own need to be affirmed, whether in cash or a manufactured sexual experience. On stage she becomes an intriguing shiny object, which you might not have acknowledged if she was dancing in an empty room, or in her clothes, or if you simply passed her on the street.

 

References:

Currier, Danielle M. 2014. “Strategic Ambiguity: Protecting Emphasized Femininity and

Hegemonic Masculinity in the Hookup Culture.” Gender and Society 27(5):704-727.

Eaves, Elisabeth. 2004. Bare: The Naked Truth About Stripping. Emery, California: Seal Press.

Newmahr, Staci. 2011. Playing on the Edge: Sadomasochism, Risk, and Intimacy. Bloomington,

Indiana: Indiana University Press.

 

 

 

Object of No Desire At All: Respecting Boundaries and Negotiating Power in a Life-Drawing Session

Every Monday afternoon, I attend a two-hour life drawing class, which entails one nude model at the center of a circle of gazing students and their easels. I chose to write about this topic because of how “unsexed” the nature of these classes tends to be, despite the presence and display of a naked body in a room full of people. With the exception of medicine, it is rare to find a situation in which a naked body is completely “unsexed” in mainstream American society. Similar to the SM scenes described by Newmahr (2011), the unsexed status of the model’s body and the situation in general, relies on the cultivation of a safe and communicative environment through the establishment of and adherence to specific rules/boundaries.

In order for a life-drawing class to “work,” all participants must respect numerous boundaries, the most obvious being spatial. Typically, there is a wide radius of empty space around the nude model, with all of the easels creating a somewhat protective ring around his/her body. In my class, I estimate that all students sit about eight feet from the model. Sitting any closer to the model, or drawing her from extremely close-up, would mostly likely violate her unmarked safe space and undoubtedly transform the entire experience.

Additionally, there are verbal boundaries within the drawing session. It is rendered unacceptable to comment on the model’s body or to speak or yell at her in the middle of a pose. Any verbal communication to or about the model during the session is entirely objective and based in the context of art. By respecting these boundaries, all participants reinforce that the model’s body is not an object of desire, but rather an object of artistic gaze.

Another defining factor of my life-drawing class is communication. Much like the SM scenes described in Newmahr’s (2011) book, clear and mutual communication is an integral part of establishing boundaries, maintaining respect and keeping “sex” out of the interaction. At the beginning of the life drawing class, the teacher asks the student artists what they are hoping to get out of the session that day, in order to best direct the model. For example, if the students are hoping to work with color, pay close attention to detail, or focus on shading, the teacher might suggest certain poses or placement for the model. The model, who is expected to hold her poses for a fairly extended period of time, is also expected to communicate to the class if she feels uncomfortable with a certain pose or needs to take a break during the session. Regularly throughout the session, and each pose, the teacher checks in with the model to see how she is doing. Additionally, the students are expected to communicate with the teacher and model in between poses, in order to get the most out of their session. All participants “make choices regarding their communication that contribute to the accomplishment [and safety] of their experiences” (2011:77). Similar to the vital mutual communication between tops and bottoms in Caeden’s SM community in order to achieve optimal experience, communication by and between all participants of the drawing session is a key component of a successful session, in general.

Simon and Gagnon’s (1984) can be loosely applied to the experience of attending and participating in the life drawing session. As a scenario that takes place within the art institution, there is a specific “system of signs of symbols through which the requirements and the practice of specific roles are given,” (p.53). While these signs and symbols are different from those in other contexts, they are real and serve a vital function in the success of the entire experience. Adherence to “interpersonal scripts” is key, as well (p.53). The model, instead of being exclusively an actor in the situation, becomes a “partial scriptwriter or adapter” in shaping the situation and making identities “congruent with desired expectations” (53). These invisible scripts ultimately guide the life drawing session and keep all participants within the boundaries. Over time, participants are expected to discover these rules and scripts on their own, and internalize them over time. This “culture shock,” of sorts, is evident when a participant enters the class for the first time and looks around for guidance, asks inappropriate questions or shifts uncomfortably throughout the session.

Overall, I find it thought provoking that the symbolic meaning of the model’s nude body as a spectacle is transformed during the session. For the two hours of the life drawing session, the nude body “ceases to be a social marker” (Newmahr 2011: 27). Ultimately, I observed that by following certain rules of space, respect and communication, all participants ensure a non-sexual experience and a complete negotiation of power and expectation in the life-drawing session.

Hot and Bothered: The Burlesque of Baltimore. by Allen

            I went down into Baltimore for an exhibition on burlesque shows, and without any prior knowledge of what I would be seeing. Expectations were high to see men and women dressed in outrageous costumes, however upon entering I found that it was merely a presentation set up by MICA students showcasing pictures of the various burlesque performers from around the region.

            The exhibition was small and quiet, and it seemed as though we were they only ones who showed up. The student who put it together had lined up pictures of the performers along the wall next to one of their outfits. The pictures were of the performers in both their every day dress and in their burlesque outfits. The outfits were all very unique, some capturing different themes such as a Baltimore theme, where a lot of the outfit was made of National Bohemian beer cans, Berger cookie packages, and things labeled Old Bay. Another was a take on the Rocky Horror Picture show. The performers who wore them made all of the outfits on display by hand. All but one had sexual undertones, showing skin and utilizing nipple tassels. The non-sexual one was a different take on burlesque. It was a pair of performers who incorporate comedy and music instead of sexuality.

             Their burlesque persona, the names they gave themselves, were humorous and actually very clever. They gave themselves names like, “Paco Fish,” “Doctor Ginger Snaps,” “Valeria Voxx,” “Tapitha Kix,” and “Hot and Bothered.” We asked the students who were guiding us through the exhibit about the names and whether they preferred their stage names or their real names. They told us that many of the performers prefer to go by their stage names and some even refer to their real names as their “slave names.” We did not inquire too much into what they meant by that but it was clear that these performers have found an outlet where they can express their sexuality and creativity in a safe way.

            Sadly enough, being a burlesque performer does come with its own stigma. The students leading us mentioned that many of the performers keep their real names secret because employers have been known to fire employees based on their involvement in burlesque performances. This is because many people who don’t understand the burlesque art form associate it with stripping. Our guides made sure to tell us that there is a very clear difference between the two. Burlesque is about expression, whereas stripping, to them, is just about showing off the body.

             It is understandable to not be able to see the difference, especially when a good deal of the time the only thing covering a woman’s breasts is nipple tassels or “pasties.” In fact there was a whole wall in the exhibit dedicated to pasties. These were far different than any pasties you would see at a strip show. Many of them were wonderful pieces of art, made by hand to match the theme of an outfit that they went with. Some were made of teddy bears, others from car fresheners.

            Our tour guides made the point of mentioning the intelligence of each performer. This was another attempt to move burlesque out of the sphere of stripping. Every picture of a performer we passed by our guides made a point of saying that they were the nicest and most intelligent people they’ve ever met. One of the performers even had a PhD and teaches.

            A connection can be made here to the SM community, discussed by Newmahr (2011). Newmahr uses the word “play” to describe the antics of those in the community. She also talks about the use of toys, like the whips and ropes and other social artifacts found in the community. The Burlesque community is no different. Their “toys” are their hand made creative costumes while their “play” is the act of performing in those costumes.  The social artifacts in both communities dictate how the “playing” will go.  The performance has to fit the theme of the costume just like the toys dictate the kind of play happening in the SM community.