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December 2003: PAUL SMITH'S DEVIANT'S DIARY - Starting with a bang: Showtime! Erotica 2003.
Last year I visited Erotica for the first time. It'd been a lovely, if horrifically expensive, experience.
When the calendar brought the event around once more I thought it might be rather fun to go again. But was it?
After finding the tradesman's entrance and greasing my way in with a letterhead, I had a quick scoot round to get my bearings. I saw a sign in the distance that promised Hot Sausage. Feeling secure with my sexuality, I was compelled to investigate. Contrary to my expectations by this stage, it turned out the stand was actually selling hot sausages. Who'd have thought it?
Later I walked around a corner only to have a human urinal confront me. What does one say in that situation? "Hello" didn't seem appropriate, somehow. As a rule I don't greet toilets. Occasionally I might shout "Oh God!" down one, but never with the expectation of a reply. Instead I looked down at the shivering mass of latex tubes and the urinal itself, pointed to it, made approximate eye-contact with the wearer by looking towards where his or her eyes must have been behind more latex and simply said, "Nice." I felt I'd recovered pretty well, all told. Elsewhere on Jack The Rubber's stand I noticed a silver-framed picture of Diana Princess of Wales and felt obliged to ask if there was some hidden story there, waiting to burst onto the worlds media. They didn't know I was a journalist; maybe I could winkle the sordid tale of her custom made catsuit out of them. The less-than-salacious truth is one of the owners of the firm is a keen collector of Diana memorabilia, with particular focus on the royal wedding. I myself have a copy of the Radio Times from that week in July 1981, which doesn't really compete with his 600+ item hoard. I also learned she'd once worn a rubber swimming costume while holidaying. It was a fairly surreal conversation to have while being shadowed by a human toilet, I can tell you.
Away from the racks of fluffy pink sexual items, cling-film wrapped toadstools 'o' love and bright plastic in garish boxes,
there were many relaxation and massage products on offer. During one enlightening chat with a manufacturer of whirlpool baths
I discovered there's no running water available on the floor of Olympia. This meant the foaming water I'd just nearly stuck my
fingers in had been there for three days. Who knows how many hands and other appendages had been dipped in it? The lady assured
me a gallon of Milton Fluid was keeping it wholesome, but now knowing the facts, even if I'd been one of the poor girls at the
show who'd been on her 6" heels all weekend I still wouldn't have put my feet in it. A different stand had made the mistake of using
quite bluish lighting. With all their electric massaging couches occupied in a row, it looked like a busy night at some curious fetish morgue.
While enjoying the undignified press of bodies in the Private/Harmony Video Village (easily the most consistently packed part of the show) Catherine Zeta-Jones trod a spiked heel into my toe. Being almost pathetically English I apologised immediately. She turned and looked up at me with a pair of the biggest, brownest, softest eyes I've seen this side of a Disney cartoon. She said sorry too, in a voice like Johnny Vegas after a dozen Lew Grade cigars. For legal reasons I'd better acknowledge that she may not, in fact, have been the real Mrs Douglas. Still, cute arse.
Summing up: Train fare: £14.00. Entrance, thanks to ETO: Free. If I'd have paid £17 I might have been disappointed. Lots of the goodies on show could have been bought on the Internet or in Soho, neither of which charge an entrance fee. That said, there's nowhere in the UK you can see (or waggle at your mates while giggling) so many products and services under one roof at one time, especially with such a palpable atmosphere of fun. These facts alone guarantee Erotica a successful future. Perhaps my tastes have become more jaded over the last 12 months, or my wallet lighter, but I came away with not much more than some entertaining memories and sore feet. Oh, and for £10, my first R18 rated DVD. It's for a mate, ok? Christmas is coming.
Extras, if you'd like to plump it up a bit Dale(!):
A lady dressed as a Policewoman caught my eye. The attention to detail on her uniform begged comment, so I said how authentic
I thought it looked as I passed. She looked back at me and as politely as she could informed me she was a real PC. They've dropped the W, apparently.
I replied that I admired her bottle to wear it shopping at an event like this. Sadly the noise of banging dance music and the irresistible flow of
the crowd carried me out of earshot of her reply.
On the Bizarre Magazine stand I met the very charming Bianca, a tiny French-Canadian fetish model. It's always nice to grab a chat with a fellow latex hoof enthusiast. When it comes to pony-girls, I never have a blinkered view. [Note for Dale: See photograph!] Shortly afterwards a man I hadn't yet made eye contact with called me Squire, instantly reminding me I was London, looking at hardcore pornography without any real intention of buying it.
I went in search of the Speed Dating event that I'd seen advertised on the Erotica-UK.com web site. It was only going to be a fiver and I reckon I can be charming, witty, intelligent and articulate for three minutes at a time, no problem. Sadly it'd been cancelled; wasting the effort I'd put in creating a visual aid with which to illustrate my non-stop party life. If you're going to make wild claims in an attempt to impress the opposite sex, I think you should be able to back it up with a page of photographic evidence.
Surprisingly I saw not a single man dressed in an outsized battery costume. I'm sure there's a huge potential market for Duracell or Energizer to tap here, especially for their rechargeable products. I mean, when was the last time you had to replace the batteries in your torch?
Next Month: Speed Dating. Does it suck?
Paul Smith is still free to a good home. Kinky Job offers to info@snapsandbytes.co.uk please.
Somewhere between 500-1000 - 100% true, guaranteed - words Dale, depending on what you want to use and lose. I hope this is what you had in mind. If it wasn't, please re-brief me and I'll take another shot at it.
Paul.