Friday, 9 March 2012


I like fetish. It’s intriguing, alluring, the wild spectrum of idiosyncrasies that turn people on. It’s subjective, personal to each individual. For some folk it’s a fetish for Spandex, Latex, Leather, PVC, and Fur. For others there’s the Pony Girls and Boys. Some people have a fetish for Poop and Pee -- Scatology and of course, good old Bondage.

And there is role play -- a fetish for nurses, fire fighters, police officers -- practically anyone in a uniform, can be, and probably has been, fetishised.

Performance artists have caught on -- the Porcelain Twinz, put on spectacular shows, highlighting, not only their talent as dancers, but their own incredible athleticism.

They are stunning rather than beautiful. They are sexy and talented. They are the identical twins from Portland USA. Together, they have put together extravagantly exotic, erotic performances, leaning heavily towards burlesque and fetish.

For some men and women, the idea of beautiful, sexualised twins is a fetish in itself. It is the idea of twins that is important. The fantasy that follows, can be whatever you want it to be. Which twin do you go for? One twin -- the other -- or both? Or are you the voyeur -- is that your fetish? Do you just want to watch the twins perform their highly, sexually charged act? If so, then being an anonymous member of their audience, is ideal for you.

The twins, Amber and Heather Performances began in the year 2000, at Dante’s Sunday Sinferno Cabaret, with a once a week venue. They had the chance to be creative and experiment, with what they call “fetish burlesque”. They dance in a style that is recognisable as 1930s and 1940s burlesque, but their performance is inspired by fetish, in fact a whole spectrum of fetishes.

Starting at the feet, those outrageous shoes, a shoe fetishist’s dream, shoes that most women could hardly walk in, let alone dance in. They perform bondage fantasies, wear enormous, brightly coloured dildos and simulate sex. Whippings, beatings, spankings, nipple pinching and role play are part of their performance art too. Their performance is a provocative dreamlike voyeuristic fantasy, the Twinz embrace naughtiness and literally play with fire.


It is a world where fetish, music and dance are all that matter. Fantasy too. There is the fantasy that the Twinz are sexually available; of course they are not. The voyeur and the fantasist in the audience, know the rules of theatre. At least they should do.

What the Porcelain Twinz do is fiction. It’s as much fiction as any Erotic story, or Erotic painting, or Erotic film.

It isn’t real, it’s a story! How many times does it have to be said?

I was talking about this a few weeks ago, guys confusing writers of Erotica with the characters in their tales. It has happened to me, and it has happened to some of my writer friends. Some of our stories have a FEM/DOM theme, and some guys seem to think that we really are the women in our tales. I say “guys” because I have never had an inappropriate, sexually explicit email from a woman -- I like to think that women have more sense!

I thought I had said all I wanted to say on the matter, but not so! I was putting together a blog post about “The Porcelain Twinz. Their extravagant, erotic dance, leaning heavily towards fetish, has a massive following, and while I was reading about their performance art, I find that the Twinz and their erotic art, have been victims to the same inappropriate behaviour from men, as writers of Erotica. Men who don’t seem able to separate fantasy from reality.

The Porcelain Twinz have an ongoing legal battle, an action arising under the laws of the City of New York seeking damages to redress the injuries that they have suffered as a result of being discriminated against on the basis of their sex and subjected to a hostile work environment based on sex.

“Simon Hammerstein, the owner of “The Box” and the Twinz’ employer, allegedly pressured the Langley twins to perform sex acts with him in private, leading to charges that he continually harassed the girls. It seems like they might have a hard time proving it, but if they were continually sexually harassed, I guess that (in theory at least), they are entitled to the same protections as employees in less risqué lines of work.”
From black book mag.

The defendant is “The Box” and owner of “The Box,” Simon Hammerstein.

You can read entirety of the complaint here.

Ann Regentin kindly sent me this -- “On trying to explain “Host Clubs” to Western Men,” by Reiko Yamagishi.

“I was attending a 2004 gathering for international professionals living in Tokyo who were concerned with human rights. Naturally, I was expecting to meet up with critically-minded people. People in the room were mingling and introducing themselves, so I stopped to talk with a group of American men who asked me my occupation. I told them that I was a Ph.D. student at the National University of Singapore and had just returned to Tokyo to conduct fieldwork on the host club phenomenon in Shinjuku’s Kabuki-ch?. Despite the popular media coverage on the Japan host club phenomenon these men did not seem to have any clue about what host clubs were. I explained, “Hosts are sort of heterosexual male sex workers, but they do not sell ‘sex,’ though it can happen outside of the club. It is more of a companionship, like a hostess club. Or their work is similar to escorts, but much more institutionalised.” They looked at each other and cracked some jokes that I did not catch. The only thing I knew was that they were smirking at me.
Later, one of them approached me. He stopped and stood close by me, slightly sideways. With the same smirk I had seen a moment ago on several faces, his eyes moved unhurriedly up and down my body, from my face to my legs, which suddenly felt vulnerably exposed underneath my yellow mini-skirt. “Oh, shit.” I clicked my tongue in my mind. I knew where this was going.
“So, you must really like ‘it’,” he said finally, still smirking.
As politely as I could, I asked, “Do I like what?” He lowered his face and whispered to me, “Oh, you know what I mean…”

You can read Reiko’s complete essay here.

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