Dirty Show

Last night Jeff and I went to The Dirty Show.  This is an erotic art show complete with performances and a cash bar.  Now, in the past few years I have become much more sexually open-minded.  I used to have definite ideas about the rights and wrongs of sex, the purpose of sex and the unfortunate experience of only having had bad sex with one pretty messed up person.  Since I have shed many of my ideals and replaced them largely with only openness I have discovered that sexuality is a huge part of who a person is.  This may seem elementary to most well-rounded adults, but my specific sexual history and experience made it very convenient to just repress this part of myself as biologically necessary for obtaining my babies.

Anyway, all is now good in my own boudoir.  I’ve “found” myself, so to speak, and along the way found my complete soul mate and we are enjoying that perfect combination of love, lust, passion, trust and adventure.    So last night, for date night, we thought it would be fun to head down to the streets of Detroit with our sense of adventure fully at the ready.  I was so unfortunately not in the mood to wear any high heels or fishnet stockings.  I had to force myself to wear my black boots with jeans and my lacy shirt with only a black bra.  Jeff spiked his hair and wore one of his fabulous party shirts.  We, in our suburban ways, had to Google map and gps the hell out of the address for this place (only prudent when headed to the underbelly of the “D”) before hopping into the non-high-occupancy “date night” vehicle.   Nine Inch Nails played on the ipod, setting the stage for our trip.  We found a sweet parking spot, right in front of the place that looked exactly like what you would expect from an erotic art show being held in Detroit.

The art work was so diverse.  There were paintings, photographs, sculptures, media work, and “functional” pieces.  Imagine any part of the body involved in any act that could be construed as sexual and it definitely was represented.  My favorite pieces of art are always those that convey strong feeling in a beautiful and realistic way and I definitely found some of that last night.  One piece that struck me deeply was a painting that had words describing a woman’s apathy about herself and sex written all across the image of her bound and gagged.  It was powerful to me and made me hope that none of my children ever use sex as a way of hating themselves.

Several of the photographs and paintings had hermaphrodites proudly displaying their sexuality.  I wondered as I stared, how do the clear-cut boundaries of religion define the sexuality of a person like this?  If they have both pieces of the puzzle, are they “allowed” to marry or be with the person they are naturally attracted to or only the one they “look like” they should be attracted to?  I mean if you are attracted to women and can whip it out, that should be allowed, right?  Who cares if you also happen to have a vagina and breasts?

Even more moving than the art work though, were the people.  The people in attendance were more diverse than I would have expected.  There were people of all ages, sizes, and styles.  People were dressed in any way you can imagine.  There were very high heels, very long boots, very short skirts, fishnet stockings, nipple pasties, tube tops and chains.  But there were also lots of jeans, tennis shoes and sweaters.  The brilliant thing about this show is that it is for EVERYONE.  You can walk into this place and just be yourself and partake in the atmosphere in the particular way that turns you on, being able to find something and probably someone that appeals to you.

The performers were as varied as the attendees in their appearance but every single one of them was confident in themselves and their sexuality in a way that made me smile.  There was a burlesque company who did some very comedic things, there were pole dancers, and there was a man with very tight and revealing leather pants who played the violin while a masked woman danced with a sword on her head.  Floating overhead were women sitting on swings while others were doing aerial acrobatics with long pieces of flowing fabric.  There were a couple of cages with people dancing in and around them.  I was particularly impressed to see one of the men clean the bars of the cage before he started writhing on them.  I had always wondered about that.

So, after walking around for several hours, partaking in the performances, people watching, open-mouthed art staring, and inhaling more than our fair share of smoke, we left The Dirty Show with one resolve for next year:  I need some better boots!

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