On Facebook, my friend Kitty asked:
“For my sex worker friends- do you feel forced into a certain type of femininity with your work? Furthermore, do you challenge assumptions around that femininity, and if so, how?”
It’s an interesting question, and one that invited a lot of thought-provoking answers in the resulting thread…
Rebecca said: “If you play a more generic role, you tend to get more customers = more money. The more generic = the more money. It’s not about being forced, it’s about how much money you want to make.”
Colin countered with: “Generic may be sought out by generic people, you attract who you want to, deep down. I have some deeply unique friends who do quite well not being generic at all.”
Rebecca clarified: “I’m talking about at work. I could be and have been less generic, but it usually means less money.”
Colin said: “Ahh gotcha. Hate to see folks try to be mundane…”
Cory added, with something truly profound: “Letting the market decide what constitutes “feminine” when it comes to sex work? How very libertarian.”
I agree entirely. Generic femininity in the sex industry appeals to the lowest common denominator and the widest market – hence the (slightly unpalatable) financial success of Katie Price et al – but for the Domme identity, it does get rather more complicated. Just how dominant are we when we pander to a man’s ideal of how a woman should look and behave?
Bitchy Jones has some strong opinions on this one, though she assumes that all Pro-Dommes conform to one compulsory image. As a stereotype, we are something of a contradiction. The Pro-Dommes of legend play the role of the strong, independent, universally superior woman, yet regularly squeeze, struggle and stitch themselves into the most unnatural shapes of constricting corsettage and uncomfortable stilt-like footwear. And all this to prove to our menfolk just how powerful we are, before obediently hurting, humiliating and offering up aggressive handjobs to them when they command us to.
Yet in reality, Pro-Dommes aren’t like this at all. We do seem to have something of an image problem in the media and in public opinion, but the majority of us bear no resemblance to the robotic sexual playthings we’re constantly portrayed as being. On the contrary – I’ve turned up at femdom clubs in a boiler suit and army boots in the past, just to make my own overstated, clumsy, financially-debilitating point about how dominant women are expected to look. Yet I am exactly as feminine as I choose to be at any given time. Just how submissive is a sub who doesn’t respect that?
Of course, a lot of it does come down to money, as Rebecca said above. I’ve never been a fervent Capitalist so, much as I can say, look, act and dress in whatever I like at all times, I’ll never be filthy rich from my career. My lifestyle is relatively low maintenance. I have no need for mansions and limousines, and as long as I can keep my pet parrot in the manner to which he has become accustomed, I’m happy. The misconception about someone who Dommes for a living is that she seeks quantity of clients over quality. The stereotypical Dominatrix of message board myth seeks to attract as many cash-wielding customers as possible, including those who shout, brag, leer, and expect her to fit whatever personal fantasy they require from her. The flesh and blood Dominatrix simply doesn’t. She tells those chaps to fuck right off.