Mardi Gras

On Saturday I walked in the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. I’ve only ever watched from the sidelines before so it was an experience to be on the other side of things.

I arrived in the float marshalling area just after 5pm wearing a red latex dress, a grey overcoat, trainers and the rest of my outfit in a Coles recycled bag. After I found the Hardcore Heaven float I caught with the people who invited me to walk with them. A~ and GC have been around for a while and they are great. GC has her Adams Apple removed on the 17th and A~ worships the ground GC walks on, following her in seven inch heels. I make a great handbag holder when we’re out and about.

A~ painted my eyes with gold and black while wearing black brief and bra and pink feathered headband and just before being wrapped in a purple and black rope corset. My corset went on much easier than hers. Then I went for a walk amongst the other floats.

Photo 75 is where I lost count. I was walking with a new acquaintance, also dressed in red and black latex and every time we stopped to take a picture, we where hauled into several. The crowd screaming at the railing also wanted to take snap shot. It was weird but strangely exhilarating. I hung around the float for what seemed like an age. I chatted with other float folk, but from the float I was on and other floats.

The float that confused me though was Animal Liberation. The people were wearing shorts and had their bodies painted up to look like Friesian cows. The float had signs that said ‘Leather is Cruel’ and Cows are Cool’, and yet they had a sign that said…’We support Gay Pride’. Why did I find this confusing? Well, while I understand not all gay men or women wear leather, quite a few do. For instance, the Dykes on Bikes where predominantly dressed in leather, the Leather Pride group were certainly dressed in leather, as was Mr Leather and so were many other random people throughout the parade participants including quite a few on the Hardcore Heaven float. It just didn’t make any sense. But I didn’t dwell on at the time.

I just got on with looking fabulous and playing up to my adoring crowd.

I changed out of my trainers about ten minutes before our float started to move. I had chosen patent leather booties with a decent heel for the 1.8km walk, knowing I wouldn’t be walking in a straight line, and actually walking twice that. I was now fully dressed, armed with a sjambok (incidentally, I’d love a leather one, one day instead of the plastic one I have) and ready to put on a little show with my new prancing partner.

Shortly after we started moving I realised how completely insane the crowd was. They were screaming at the top of their lungs. If you went anywhere near them you were grabbed, hugged, kissed and deafened by being screamed in the ear as the hugged you. However, this didn’t stop my high-fiving, running the sjambok along the fence line to produce a lovely ringing sound and pretending to hit my latex friend on the arse. At one point to stop on a bottle top and it stuck in the bottom of my shoe. I was very unladylike as I scrapped my foot on the road trying to get rid of it. It hurt a lot.
I think I heard Joan River, or it may have been Pam Ann, say ‘Ohh, look at the girl wield a stick, she can do that to me anytime.’

The end came quickly. Suddenly I found myself in a park with people collapsed on the grass, hyped up and nowhere to go. But first I had to take my gloves off. I had had nothing to eat of drink since 5pm, it was now nearly 11 and yet I still poured a few millilitres of fluid from the each glove and from the neck line of my dress. It’s one of the benefits of latex, you never need to have a seaweed wrap to lose excess water, ever again.

I went straight home afterwards. I was bushed. On the way to my lift I nearly lose the sjambok, but got it back again after a panic, so that was all good. Just after midnight I peeled myself out of the latex and had a shower.

It felt so good to slip between the sheets that night, even if I was floating just ever so slightly above the mattress.

Dancing with Muscles

I went to Hellfire on Friday with Todd. The last Hellfire he’ll ever go to. In less than a week he’ll be gone. Anyway…I was kitted out in the standard outfit, bra, corset, PVC skirt and thigh high boots. Todd had on his leather trousers and a white Everlast singlet. We met and then went to dinner at Bettys Soup Kitchen. I love Oxford Street, no one batted an eyelid.

We ate a simple dinner of mash, sausages and beef stroganoff before moving onto the main entertainment of the evening. We walked the short distance with much appreciative attention. At the door Todd was told he had to take his shirt off. No white allowed, you see.

Drinks were purchased, seats were taken, and the people watching commenced. There was the tourist friends (two guys in all black and wide eyed), the regulars, the single guy waiting for his date dressed in a Centurion outfit and the first-timers.

You can always tell the first timers. They look too hard at others and dress in simple black. The main example of a first timer for the evening was the guy we nicknamed ‘Dancing with Muscles’, he was wearing black trousers and a black singlet. He had short close cropped hair and may have had a close relationship with ‘roids. We watched him on the dance floor for quite sometime, flexing his pecs, tightening his biceps, the exposing of his six pack…it was hilarious but intriguing at the same time. And we were the only ones watching.

A couple of months ago Manacle closed its doors. Manacle was the Leather Pride bar for Sydney gay population. They’ve all moved to Hellfire. I have never seen so many leather harnesses. This is a good thing if you’re a boy into boys, but not so good if you’re a girl in boys. The eye candy factor was amazing and I shall continue going if only to get inspiration for my next semester at uni.

Seasonal Pussy

You may have seen some of this pictures before, or ones similar. These are OK, but some of the other are just Wrong.
With a capital W!

The other, 'just Wrong ones' can be found here.

The Hen was a Man

As you’ll know by now Sam and Sara are getting hitched next week in India. So in grand tradition of girls getting married we (Edna, Trixy and Rachel) took Sam out for a night on the town. First we dressed him up like a naughty school boy with the addition of a tiara and vale, then we plied him with alcohol then we walked him to Hellfire.

Trixy looked lovely in black leather; Rachel has a fine body for tight denim and what can only be described as Spandex. Corporate tart suited Edna, even if she did forget her skirt and I donned a corset and a red wig. Once inside, champagne was ordered and the groom toasted, many times. He even had his picture taken by the official photographer.

We all got to see the first and second shows of the evening too. The first was Christa Hughes who used to sing lead vocals for Machine Gun Fellatio. She has the most awesome voice, so I’m adding her to my groupie listing for 2007. Later Gypsy Wood (you may remember her from such stage shows and blog entries as Feasting on Flesh) did a little show where she popped all the balloons she was dressed in with large sharp knives. It would also seem that they were filled with blood or red food colouring (I hope it food colouring) ‘cause today I have lots of little red spots on my white shirt.

This morning however, Edna and I tried to forget about the fun had the night before but the brightness of the sun, the party feet and desire to eat a fully cooked fry-up breakfast told us that we’d had a really good night. We had a Doris day, sitting in Hyde Park watching he world go by and eat its packed lunch with a knife and fork, shopping (we even met with Sam for a short time), drinking hot chocolate and eating sushi. We over indulged and Edna brought a polar bear coat. I’m pretty sure I encouraged her, she just needs some rich ‘bloke’ (not her word;-) to take her skiing in New Zealand so she can wear it.

Thank goodness the wedding is dry.

Burning in Hell

It’s that time of the month again, the time where Edna and I get dressed up like tarts and party ‘til dawn, Hellfire! Trixy bailed out on Wednesday 'cause he had a better shag offer and Sam, well Sam really let us down by cancelling just as we arrived by text message (we had been due to meet him there). Edna aka Lara Croft and I (aka Domina) spent the evening avoiding what we thought at the start of the evening quite a cute guy. But he got steadily more and more hammered until he was trying to make us stay with him. Word of advice, don’t try and make a kick boxer stay by grabbing her by the shoulders. It doesn’t end well!

We had been musing earlier over a glass of booze that it was only a matter of time before we saw someone we knew parading around. The sight of Edna’s boxing instructor making out with a girl and dressed as a police woman confirmed a few things in Edna’s mind and confirmed for me that Sydney, really is a big country town.

I have to confess, that it wasn’t the best night I’ve ever had, The weird hammered guys, loosing my flogger only to find it again being used by a stranger on the bare a*se of another stranger (Eww!), friends not turning up and feeling like I really was in the fires of hell dressed in a black PVC corset and skirt.

We left at just before three am, alone but merry and ready for debrief and over analysis of the evening back at the flat. Edna, however, with her amazing powers of seduction (I sware she has some sort of Magic dust) pulled purely by walking up the stairs.

‘Come and have a drink with me so we can get to know each other,’ he (for sake of it, we’ll call him Steps) says to her

After a few moments of exchange, she’s drinking and I’m going home alone. Twenty minutes later she arrives at mine after getting him to walk her home.

We did our debrief and rolled into bed at 4.30am.

(358 words)