Tuesday, May 22, 2012

ride the PATH at 8am in last night's chaps (The Black Party '12, Part I)


One weeknight, Bohoken and I were migrating from Gym Bar to Boxers via west 19th St., passing by Nasty Pig. I looked in and saw that not only were they still open, but they were serving drinks!

"Open bar and gear? Oh, we HAVE to stop in!"

I ran into my writer friend Brett Edward Stout (author of Sugar Baby Bridge, available on Amazon) who is the biggest brand advocate they probably have. He insisted that I try on a track jacket because they made sizes where sleeves were long but the waist wasn't equator-sized (he’s like 6’5).

Much of the Nasty Pig staff was there, including the ultra-hot creative director Frederick Kearney who pointed out the new 'mud flap' to me, telling me about his design process.


"We only have 6 of them." Music to my ears! I had to have one, but first, I had to try it on.

And then someone suggested I try on the leather vest on the wall.

Me (tugging at the bottom seam of the neoprene just above my navel): "Maybe I need a bigger size."
Nasty Pig CD: "Honey, you can try one if you want, but they don't get any longer. Just wider."
Me: "I like how you think."

Well, hell! I'd already had five drinks, shown the store my underwear, tried on some cool gear, why not spring for the chaps! Of course, the neoprene chaps fit like a dream!

We bought everything I'd tried on, and I think they threw in a free tshirt. After spontaneously spending 3x more than I'd ever spent on fetish gear in my life, I decided to go to the Black Party, which was happening about a week later.

Bohoken is much older than I, but there are quite a few experiences in the gay world that are new to him. Fetish gear is one of those experiences. I couldn't show up to the Black Party next to a guy in jeans and a tshirt, so I decided we had to go gear shopping a few days before the party.

After a quick happy-hour drink at G we stopped into the new Rufskin shop a few doors down. Their fetish gear is quite different in that it looks more like athletic wear. I tried to get Bohoken to try on a wrestling singlet, but he wasn't really feeling the idea.  However, with beach season in mind, we tried on a few speedos and a few very unique pieces of jewelry. I ended up getting a pair of short shorts so skimpy that they'll require a weekend on Fire Island or at Asbury Park to justify their presence in my wardrobe.


I'd been thinking about these accessories at Nasty Pig that involved strips of leather tied together at one end that vaguely resemble my hair in a ponytail. I didn't realize they were attached to chains, but when I saw a pair of rubber suspenders, I knew I had to find a way to pair these items! Go-go and retail extraordinaire Jay Roth saw me dressing Bohoken and convinced us to throw some Nasty Pig denim shorts on him. It was a combo that I can only describe as Sexy Otter Magic (which, by the way, fits the syllables of the Ciara song featuring Justin Timberlake "Love Sex Magic").

For months, Bohoken had been whining reminiscing about his old midtown apartment every time we've gone to Hell's Kitchen. And every time I brought the Black Party up, he always said, "I used to live across the street! I could hear the bass!" So when he decided that we needed to rent a hotel room for the weekend (Saturday and Sunday nights), I didn't object. Besides, who want to ride the PATH at 8am in last night's chaps!

The Good Ambassador was in town that weekend, so I had this whole plan of how I'd go out to Nana's for a few hours that Saturday and carry my stuff with me so that I could stop at the gym and get a workout in right before I got dressed. And as usual with my family, my plans fell through miserably (though I had a great time). But I wish I would have known I'd have to skip the gym: I'd've had some liquor.

Bohoken had a few social engagements while I was with my family, so I had the hotel to myself when I got back. I told him not to rush back so I could get a quick disco nap in. I figured he'd be back by the time I woke up, but when he wasn't, I just started an impromptu workout: pushups with Bohoken's backpack on, curls with our bag of gear (I'd packed all my fetish options plus his plus both our boots), and leg lifts. After a quick shower, Bohoken still wasn't back, so I texted him.


It wasn't until I had tried on every iteration of every piece of gear that I had with 4 different combos of underwear (I had to take off and put on both the chaps and the mud flap for each pair) and decided exactly what outfit was right that Bohoken came waltzing in.

"Wait. You wanted to go to Frat Boy’s place dressed for the Black Party?!"

Yeah.

Click here for Part II.


Click here to check out a purely, positively and completely HYPOTHETICAL steam room situation.

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