Essay and Illustration by L.V. Loya Soto

As June rolls around once more, so does the recently founded discourse surrounding kink at Pride. The discourse itself seems to rise out of a fundamental misunderstanding of kink and leather in a queer context and overall ignorance of its historical significance in the community. It has been a source of infighting that has taken away from the major issues of Pride, like rampant commercialization or police presence. Despite the internet polemics, this has revealed the need for more community discussion and education on kink, specifically in a queer context. We must look at societal conditions that gave rise to kink in the queer community and learn how kink is intertwined with queer culture in order to provide proper context for kink at Pride. In doing so, we not only better understand queer and trans history, but make concrete steps towards acceptance and inclusion of queer and trans individuals.

Although evidence of various sadomasochistic behavior date as far back as the 5th century, the prevalence of leather in kink specifically can be attributed to gay male leather subculture in the late 1940s. It was inspired by post-WWII motorcycle culture, where leather became a symbol of rebellion and dissatisfaction with societal pressures. Many returning veterans had difficulty readjusting to civilian life and missed adventurous male camaraderie, which led to the rise of motorcycling after the war. Marlon Brando’s role in The Wild One (1953) became a cultural reference that played on pop culture’s interest in bikers, with the image of him perched atop his Triumph in a black leather jacket and Muir cap encapsulating masculine independence and defiance of societal expectations of the time. Bikers and leather represented a non-conformist stylized version of masculinity that was both marginal and oppositional, dangerous and protective. They represented self-empowerment, strength, and refusal to assimilate to societal norms. This was in stark contrast to the public perception and media representation of gay men as passive, effeminate individuals.

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At the time, homosexuality was still widely condemned, classified in the United States as a mental illness up until 1973. This was during Lavender Scare, a decades-long attempt by politicians and public officials to purge federal employment of gay and lesbian people. This was a time where you could not only lose your job but be publicly ostracized and targeted for being gay. There was no positive representation of homosexuality in the media either. U.S. censorship codes of the late 1950s and 60’s restricted depictions of overtly homosexual acts, allowing only for depictions of homosexuality set in a negative context. Anti-sodomy laws were used to target the queer community, citing anything outside of traditional heteronormative sex as morally perverse and grounds for a fine and/or imprisonment (Some of these laws are still in effect in 16 states as of 2020.) There was also the three-article rule, an unofficial rule of thumb that punished those who were not wearing three pieces of clothing that correspond with their assigned gender at birth. Homosexuality and gender non-conformity were treated like public indecency. It was looked at as an example of a sick perverted individual. Bikers were looked down on in society, but not villainized or hunted outright like homosexuals were. Biker clubs allowed gay men to build community and relationships under the guise of male camaraderie. In the queer community, leather became a symbol of reclaimed sexuality, of forged strength, of pride in the so-called perverse. As the decades rolled on, it continued to permeate throughout the community, with gay leather bars and clubs springing up throughout the ’60s and ’70s. Gay leather subculture became more closely entwined with kink and BDSM as an alternate form of intimacy. Anti-sodomy laws made traditional forms of intimacy inaccessible to queer and trans people. Kink and BDSM served a vital role in fostering queer sexuality by allowing it to exist. Leather and kink were not only foundational for queer community building, but the leather community provided much-needed support to the sick and dying in the early 1980s during the rise of the HIV/AIDS pandemic. The kink and leather community were among some of the first responders to the HIV/AIDS crisis-- physically providing care like bathing, feeding and quality time with patients that nurses and doctors were afraid to touch, stepping in as safe sex educators to the community, and holding various fundraising events.

Looking at the history and understanding how gay leather culture has helped forge our community, it’s undeniable that kink belongs at pride. It’s also undeniable that kink as a whole continues to be stigmatized and widely misunderstood. Kink and more specifically BDSM have grown in popularity and visibility, but namely in a heterosexual context and without much regard for its history in the queer community. Many examples of kink and BDSM in popular culture fail to serve as a positive, healthy example that respects the major tenets of kink, like clear and concise consent. Because of that general confusion around kink, questions of consent have been raised in regards to kink at Pride, along with general concern for minors that might be in attendance because of its all-ages status. However, kink’s presence at Pride is limited to fetish or leatherwear, which does not mean things like public BDSM scenes or physical acts of sex will also be present. Wearing revealing or sexy outfits does not equal consent, nor does it require it. Wearing gear at Pride is no different than wearing bathing suits to the beach, both more than appropriate at their respective settings.

Leather and fetish gear at Pride represents more than kink, it represents facets of queer sexuality that have historically helped forge and unite us as a community. They continue to be a symbol of rebellion against societal expectations. The representation of kink at Pride does not mean that families or minors shouldn’t attend, but it does mean that they have to do the work of destigmatizing it by understanding its history in the community. The moral condemnation of queer sexuality has been a long-standing form of abuse against the community in order to label us as perverse or wrong. Pride has always been a way for queer and trans people to find safety in community and celebrate each other. With that visibility, we are able to protest against societal and political barriers, simply by being our authentic selves.

LINKS
Stonewall Riots
Pink News UK

L.V. Loya Soto is a writer, multimedia journalist, and artist from California. they are a magazine and opinion writer, with a passion for the radial impact of immersive storytelling.