In the stage play Bill W. and Dr. Bob, which tells the story of the founding of Alcoholics Anonymous, Dr. Bob describes his addiction thusly: “I got a demon inside me… a real live evil spirit called John Barleycorn.”
That line always struck me as weighted, but it wasn’t until last night, on the eve of my eighth year of recovery, that I realized why: It’s fitting that I got sober a couple of days before Lammas, the celebration of the First Harvest, because when you think about it, I really did sacrifice John Barleycorn to ensure my own survival. And that was an uncharacteristically good decision on my part.
So here’s to you, JB, you irascible spirit. Thanks for taking one for the team.
There’s been a bit of discord in the online LGBTQ+ leather community of late, centered around uniform fetishism. The pressing question is this: Given the current sociopolitical climate, should people still wear police outfits to leather events?
Uniforms have long been a part of leather and kink (as exemplified by everything from Tom of Finland to the Village People), and will probably always remain a part of it, but it was kind of amusing to see all these white men have fits over the idea that it might be in bad taste to dress like law enforcement officers right now. The consensus quickly became that anyone “triggered” by uniforms should, and I quote, “Stay home, walk away, seek therapy,” which tickled me even further, since triggers and fetishes are both intense, psychological and/or emotional reactions to specific stimuli — if one requires therapy, then clearly, so does the other.
I thought about trying to engage some of the louder voices and offer digestible counterpoints, but then I remembered that no one has ever won an argument on the Internet, and that I always have a lot more fun when I’m actively being unhelpful. So instead, I uploaded the following picture with the caption, “Just doing my part to complicate the Great Leather Community Uniform Debate of 2020.”
My goal may have ultimately been to make some heads explode, but this is where this post does a complete one-eighty, because I have not been able to get over how correct that collar looks on me. It’s like the first time I saw myself in leather, or stepped into a Gardnerian circle; like a little voice in the back of my mind is going, “Congratulations! You just found another piece of the person you’re supposed to be.”
So, yeah, in conclusion, I am definitely going to go to seminary based on the fact that I look fetching in clergywear. But I’ve made bigger life decisions using far more superficial criteria, so no one should be too alarmed at this point. Unless one of my loyal Marjorettes has an aversion to the trappings of High Protestantism, in which case I hear you and promise to only wear the collar in social situations where everyone else is dressed like cops.