One of the first questions people usually ask upon meeting me is what I do for a living. When I respond casually that I’m a production assistant on queer porn, then the questions really get going. What does a porn PA do, exactly?
I’ll tell you one thing: much to my regret, I am not a fluffer. I know, I know, it’s a great tragedy for me, too.
I dreamed of working on a porn set from when I was a teen, thumbing through copies of Club Magazine and trolling various AOL cybersex forums. I dreamed of being on NoFauxxx or SuicideGirls, and got into erotic modeling intending to take it further. But life got in the way of my exhibitionist dreams, and I didn’t revisit my love for porn until I founded the Ladies High Tea and Pornography Society, a discussion, Sunday tea, and porn appreciation gathering I threw for a few years in London. When, at 27, I started performing in adult films, I never imagined I would one day be on the other side of the camera. Keep reading »
My first real game, the one I remember best, was Zork — good, old-fashioned white text on a black background. I was obsessed with it, the challenges intrinsic in playing it, and the mythology attached. I read the books that came with the series obsessively, and even did a school report (sadly not preserved for posterity) on the Underground Empire for a class in school. Infocom ruled my childhood, inspired my imagination, and got me interested in storytelling. Part of what I loved so much about Zork was the lack of a player description. You were an adventurer, and that was that: no gender, no race, none of that mattered. All that mattered was exploration, creativity, and a willingness to accept that sometimes, if you planned poorly, you’d be eaten by a grue. I didn’t even really think about my character, because it was just me, wandering through the map. There was no default. Keep reading »
“There are two kinds of evil people in this world. Those who do evil stuff and those who see evil stuff being done and don’t try to stop it.” — Janis Ian
Judging from the popularity of femme-on-femme makeouts being used to sell products from Versace to concert tickets, one would think that lesbian porn is a big seller. The best thing a pop star can do to fan media attention is fake interest in another woman, after all, so we must be eating up lesbian porn. Right? Keep reading »
Recently I got a chance to meet Isabel Dresler (safe for work), who I’ve taken to calling “photographer to queer porn stars.” She’s shot with some queer porn faves like Courtney Trouble, Dylan Ryan, Andre Shakti, and Siouxsie Q. We got to chatting at a shoot for the cover of the East Bay Express on the local porn scene, where Betty Blac, Jolene Parton and I helped fulfill her desire to have a photo taken while she was being smothered by breasts.
There’s an interesting combination of intimacy and high fashion that manifests under her gaze. I was curious to ask her a bit more about it, as well as why she decided to focus attention on marketing photos for sex workers. I liked how she called herself more of a scientist than an artistic photographer, investing her time in the study of her subject (which could be anything from insects to fancy homes). Everyone seems to be obsessed about the sex part of sex work, but it’s still work. As such, middle class indoor sex work often requires some practical and related investments: a decent website, a second phone, and, of course, some excellent photos.
Here’s my conversation with Dresler, after the jump: Keep reading »
Women are given mixed messages on a regular basis. We’re told that we’re shattering glass ceilings and are independent ladies, while at the same time we’re told we’re a mess barely keeping ourselves together. Just today I got a Facebook advert demanding my attention so I can discover the newest fad diet that doesn’t really work. I’m told I should love my body and loathe it on a regular basis. I’ve come to expect that kind of thing.
Recently The Washington Post cited a study by the Bureau of Justice purportedly telling women that we should stop taking so many lovers and instead marry our “baby daddy.” That choice of words speaks rather clearly about the fundamental racism and classism indicated within the article and the logic being displayed. We are not talking about wealthy white women here, are we? Keep reading »