by Trent Payne

It’s one of those vivid, dreamlike memories but the emotional rollercoaster I felt throughout the night was life changing. October 2006, I pulled up outside what was probably the Coronet or another similar venue and I stepped out the car feeling incredibly nervous. The queue was long and had the outside hum of a pub in Soho on a Friday night but this was not a pub, it was the Torture Garden Halloween Ball and it was my first.

I was 29 when I first entered the world of fetish clubbing in that autumn of 2006, I had broken up from a long term relationship where all her friends became my friends, and then ultimately lost friends due to loyalty. I felt a little lost with myself and embarked on an unexpected mission to ‘find myself’.

I had a regular driver that drove me home in the early hours of the morning after long days at work and on one of those journeys, he complimented my regular daytime outfits and casually mentioned that he thought I’d look good in latex. Very bold.

Here I am, a young Black man from Brixton, in the back of a car feeling like I was being propositioned by my driver. He saw my perplexed expression in his rearview mirror and blurted out the 2 words that would change my life: FETISH CLUB.

“What?!” I said. “Like orgies and stuff?” My experience in anything kink at his point was purely restricted to dialup internet porn sites and yes, DVDs.

He went on to quickly explain the whole concept of fetish clubbing and the established scene in London. He spoke of a community that would welcome me with open arms, and colour played no part in discrimination. A lid had been lifted on an underground scene that I didn’t know I yearned for and he invited me to the Halloween Ball.

Bowler, the driver, gave me a list of shops that I could go and get an outfit. Now, remember, I had no friends who were into the scene or even open enough with their own sexuality to accompany
me so I headed down to Honour in Waterloo to buy a ticket for the TG event. I remember the shop was filled with all kinds of people. Couples of all genders, singles of all shapes and sizes but no one was Black.

I was used to this in a high profile working environment but socially it was weird, I felt all eyes were on me (which they weren’t) I felt I didn’t belong in the shop so I ran out. I called Bowler and told him, I didn’t think this was for me but he reassured me that I did belong, stay openminded and I would be okay so I went back into the store and with the help of the amazing, tentative staff, made my first clothing purchases, PVC trousers and top, stylish no, effective yes.

The big night had arrived. Feeling nervous was never really a thing for me, I’m normally seen as the ringmaster but this was different. Bowler picked me up and went on to talk my head off about what I would be seeing and experiencing, but he just sounded like the teacher in Charlie Brown due the nerves ripping though my stomach and my ass in the PVC, then we rolled up outside the venue.

I joined the queue. The breeze outside wafted the scent of latex, leather and cigarette smoke. I remember standing behind the most amazingly dressed couple with dressed in matching latex outfits. The man turned to me and simply said what many hear in a queue outside a TG event – “nice outfit”. “Yeah, you look great” his partner complimented. That was the comfort and boost I needed. I proceeded to tell them it was my first time as did Bowler who I think was determined for me to have a great experience.

Once we entered the club, I was instantly floored. The colours, the sound, the people, the smell, the clothing and the energy. I went straight to the main room where co-founder, Allen TG was playing his set and stood in the middle of the dance floor. I felt like it was one of those scenes out of a movie where the camera rolls around the main character with their hands up in the air not having a care in the world. Around me, my first fetish fashion show was challenging everything I thought was wearable.

Everyone was happy. Everyone was fucking sexy in their own way. Everyone was friendly. I’d never felt so welcome in my entire life outside of my family home. Being black didn’t matter, in fact back then, it was a conversation starter as not many fetish clubbers looked like me. I had finally found my tribe. This would be the beginning of filling in a huge whole in my very being.

Twenty years on, it’s a very different room. The number of Black people at fetish clubs has grown enormously. Back then you could count us on 2 hands. Now we’re as common as someone wearing a black latex vest.

This has come from a sexual liberation within the Black community. You see in Caribbean culture, we are openly very and sometimes overtly sexual. Just look at the music videos, dancehall music and carnival. We grind, we wind on each other like there’s no tomorrow but fetish is a totally different ballgame. Culturally it was and sometimes still is seen as taboo, but a new generation of fetish clubber, largely lead by Black women has changed that.

It’s also true to say that the Torture Garden team have also done more than most to promote racial diversity and increase the participation of Black people via the performers or DJs they book. The strict anti-harassment policies which are enforced by the team have not just made the events a safer space for women but also for Black people which is great. In the vanilla world, one can still experience the horror of exclusionary door policies.

Something else that has changed is how people talk about desire. When I started, I sometimes felt treated as a fantasy rather than a person, reduced to the “BBC” or the “exotic”. Now people call that out on the spot, and the scene has got better at telling the difference between kink and racial stereotyping.

I have gone on to introduce many Black people to Torture Garden and many of them have thanked me for it. These days, when I’m in the queue and spot someone nervous, clearly on their first night, I’m the one who turns around and says it: “Nice outfit.” I know exactly what it’s worth.