Kinky

I love labels and I make no secret of it, for me labels have power and I want that power for myself. I appreciate that many people don’t like them, that the idea of being held to a one can be off putting and seem restricting, I can understand that. I also agree that having labels forced on you is wrong and shouldn’t ever happen; labels should be used consensually or not at all. But I just love controlling my own labels and twisting them and turning them into whatever I fancy. Then switching and re-arranging them, applying new meanings, revamping old ones and linking together different combinations just to see what happens. For me that’s fun, it’s exciting and it’s experimenting with the marvels of language.

Labels are like clothes, you can shop around and pick out the ones you like based on how they fit, look, feel and they can be returned if you change your mind. Labels can sit in your wardrobe for years like an old favourite shirt, hardly worn but not ready to be thrown away. Some might only come out for special occasions like your good suit or party dress; others can be worn every day. And when you’re done with them they can be discarded or recycled. I want a huge wardrobe full of lovely labels that I can pick and choose from depending on my mood, my situation, my whim at that particular moment in time.

Take kinky for example. When I was a kid my mother would say that my sister had a natural kink in her hair, meaning it had a slight wave. I didn’t get the kinky hair but I did end up kinky in other ways and I know which I prefer. For me kinky is a bit naughty, a little risqué, slightly rude, it’s cheeky, sassy and bold. It’s not an everyday label, not one I’d use at work (despite it being so very tempting sometimes) but it is a good one that I enjoy.

Kinky describes so much about me, sexually I’ve got kink(s) as well as being kinked because I’m queer and butch and generally don’t conform to societies restricting expectations. If you’d have called me kinky a couple of years ago I would have been horrified and upset, kinky was not on my radar as a word or an entertainment option. But now I’m happy to have it available in my label repertoire, ready to whisk out and flaunt at appropriate moments.

I like it so much that I’ve attached it to another couple of my favourite labels to get the name for this column “Kinky Butch – A Queer View”. It’s descriptive and it sums me up, I am after all butch, queer and most certainly kinky. I wasn’t always, but now I am and it’s great to be able to present myself with those few choice labels; while also knowing I have others available to use if I feel the need.

Kinky is a great label because it’s so encompassing of a whole host of stuff, sometimes naughty, sometime downright filthy. It can and is applied not only to people but to a range of inanimate objects as well as activities. I can be kinky but so can my riding crop or my sexual practices. It can be used in so many different ways and qualified by a vast array of other descriptors.

The thing I love most about kinky is that it’s not straight, it’s bent, it’s twisted, it’s odd and it’s unexpected.

I’m kinky in many ways because of my gender expression which means I pack and bind and wear only ‘men’s’ clothes. I’m kinky because I have a box full of items used for sexual pleasure like rope, vibrators and floggers. I’m kinky because I dominate, control and use power in my sexual play.

My kinky won’t be the same as yours because I have my own variation based on my experiences, revelations, discoveries. One person’s kink is another person’s normal. I also have my own range of kinks, with twists on those kinks and kinks within kinks! They are mine and they are bound to be different to yours, they have to be because your experience is different to mine. Your needs and desires have their own matching kinks.

Show me someone who isn’t kinky, in some way, even a small way. I doubt there is such a person, I think we’re all kinky to some degree. It’s just that some of us haven’t admitted it or discovered it … yet.