Author Archives: slide

Yva Richard Vintage Kink

From Spanking Art:

“Yva Richard was one of the main purveyors of fetish attire and other BDSM products in France from the 1920s to the early ’40s. The company, based in Paris, was formed by L. Richard and his wife Nativa, who was a seamstress. They began in 1914 selling costumes, women’s hats, shoes, and high-class lingerie.

In 1923, their range of products started to include in-house produced photography, ranging from erotic lingerie poses to increasingly risque and imaginative fetish outfits. Nativa, displaying a wide streak of exhibitionism, was the principal model for over a decade. She sometimes used the names Helios and Miss Milado. Their photographs are often marked with a “Y.R.” in the corner and may have been taken by her husband.

They also sold erotic photos of bondage, whipping and spanking from well-known photographers such as H. Manuel and Ostra Studio (a division of Biederer Studio).
Their main sales outlet was via a mail-order catalog, La Lingerie Moderne (photographed by Ostra Studio), and magazine advertisements in La Vie Parisienne, Le Sourire, and most likely London Life.

By the 1930s their catalog expanded, adding fetishistic accessories and S&M accouterments such as leather corsets, high-heeled boots, handcuffs, shackles, masks, dog collars with leashes, and bizarre dominatrix ensembles made of leather, rubber, and even metal (see photo).
However, the events of World War II brought an end to Yva Richard, along with most other purveyors of erotic art, products, and apparel throughout Europe. The company was forced to close its doors forever in 1943 during the Nazi occupation of France.”

For more, click here.

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Freshman

For this performer – very much a feminist – it’s the stigma, not the work itself, that harms her. Exploitation within sex work is not universal. The way the anti-sex-work agenda silences women like this by dismissing them as mindless victims is just as dehumanising as other harmful stereotypes meted out to sex workers. There are many things about porn that are problematic and need to be fixed, but stigmatising the entire industry and those within it just makes everything worse for everyone. Feminists: the false dichotomy of virgin/victim is just as bad as virgin/whore and as much a product of patriarchy. Here’s part of a wonderful article at XOJane – “I’M THE DUKE UNIVERSITY FRESHMAN PORN STAR AND FOR THE FIRST TIME I’M TELLING THE STORY IN MY WORDS”:

“…It terrifies us to even fathom that a woman could take ownership of her body. We deem to keep women in a place where they are subjected to male sexuality. We seek to rob them of their choice and of their autonomy. We want to oppress them and keep them dependent on the patriarchy. A woman who transgresses the norm and takes ownership of her body — because that’s exactly what porn is, no matter how rough the sex is — ostensibly poses a threat to the deeply ingrained gender norms that polarize our society.

I am well aware: The threat I pose to the patriarchy is enormous. That a woman could be intelligent, educated and CHOOSE to be a sex worker is almost unfathomable.

I find it interesting that porn (a billion-dollar industry) is consumed by millions of people — men and women (and all other equally wonderful genders) alike — yet no one is willing to consider the lives of the people behind the camera. No one wants to hear about the abuses and exploitation that take place, no one wants to hear about the violence committed every day against sex workers, no one wants to consider that we have hopes and dreams and ambitions.

No, all we are is “whores and bimbos.”

I reject this. Instead, what I ask for is simple. I, like all other sex workers, want to be treated with dignity and respect. I want equal representation under the law and within societal institutions. I want people to acknowledge our humanity. I want people to listen to our unique narratives and dialogues…”

Read the full article here.

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Hurts

Kink and disability as a combination are often difficult to confront. After the injuries I sustained in an accident three years ago, I found myself having to reassess my own physical capabilities and acknowledge the subtle changes, beyond my control, that seemed to be happening within the relationships and power dynamics around me, both socially and in a BDSM context. It was, and is, frustrating beyond measure. Yet I still flinch at the idea of hurting a sub with medical issues in a way neither of us intend me to. By trying hard not to be a dick, I fear I’m being even more of a dick as a result and denying that person their own agency.

Here’s a brilliant, mind-opening article from Autostraddle from the point of view of a sub with cerebral palsy which addresses exactly that:

“…First time stories are always fun/mortifying, but that’s not the one I want to tell you, because that’s not the one that woke me up to the fact that my disability and sexuality have to breathe the same air. That happened about a month later, when Alex rolled over in bed and asked:

“So… how do you feel about bondage-y things?”

Remember for a moment that I had just gotten used to having sex at all. So my initial reaction was along the lines of UM WHAT I HAVE NO IDEA CAN I PHONE A FRIEND. But beneath that, I asked myself something else: how often are people this open about what they want? I wanted to please her, but was also interested to see what this would mean for me and for my body. It’s not often people invite me to take physical risks. So I agreed to try it.

And then… nothing.

I braced myself for the start of our little experiment, but things unfolded pretty much the same way as before. The delight of never knowing quickly gave way to frustration. I suspected why, but didn’t want to believe it. Sure enough, when I finally asked, I got the answer I had feared: “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

What that said to me was, “this woman still thinks I’m a little girl.”

Up to that point, I thought I’d done everything “right”: cultivated a functional relationship, finally let someone see me with my clothes off, said yes to sex, talked about my body, listened about hers, been willing to try new things, behaved like an adult. But it turns out it hadn’t worked. All of a sudden, the “nice girl” formula that had made my disability palatable — acknowledge, but don’t dissect; laugh it off when things get tough — failed. I had literally done the most grown-up thing I could think of with this person, and she still saw me as vulnerable. Not in the way that brings people closer, mind you, but in the way that makes them afraid to touch you. Makes them think you’re breakable.

Instead of screaming in her face, which is what I really wanted, I turned her question back on her and asked: “Who’s better at pain than I am?”

As a way to get a grasp on the whole CP situation, people like to ask me, “does it hurt?” In pain/not in pain is a good/bad binary that they can digest. It allows them to categorize my body in a way that makes sense, and tells them whether they should feel bad for me or not. I always say no because I don’t want to give anyone (more) reason to look down on my body. But let’s be real — there are screws in my spine. Of course it hurts…”

I’d recommend reading the full article here.