Naughty Paris

Last night I went to a concert at Paris-Paris to see a Franco-American group called TRIK (opening for JAD WIO). I invited along a few friends. "Do we have to wear fetish gear?" asked one, wary of participating in my Naughty Paris "research" excursions. "Only if you want to; personally I think it's a bit too chilly." I was just joking (not about the chilly part though; firkin' freezing out there!), but once we arrived on the scene I could see that anyone wearing fetish gear would fit right in.

We were among the first to arrive, but by the time we got our drinks and secured one of the few seating areas, it was already packed. We had almost an hour to hang out before the concert started, so we had time to check out the crowd's...er...eclectic style.

Some of the more eye-catching outfits in the crowd.



The house cocktail, with fresh strawberries, mango and vodka.

TRIK is made up of Nancy, a veloptuous sex pot of an American (the kind you rarely find in America these days), and two French dudes, Mathieu and Cédric. Rumor has it they met during one of those speed dating sessions. Their style of music is self-described as "ElectroGlamBooty". Why not? You can listen to excerpts on their website, or catch them on July 12 at Le Pulp, but don't bother looking for their CD in stores, because they only ever recorded enough CDs to sell to their friends.



Last night they were in fine form, entertaining the crowd with devil horns, a glow ring, a few naughty flashes of skin, and some extremely raunchy franglais that must have had her mother blushing. "How did I get so vulgar?" asks Nancy. "Why don't we ask my mom, she's right over there." And indeed, there was a motherly looking woman standing beside me.

Who knew the flute (far left) could rock?

Nanct gets up close and personal.

After TRIK was the headlining band, JAD WIO, a French band who have a sort of goth-punk thing going. I hadn't done any pre-concert research (I know, I know; take away my press pass), so I wasn't exactly prepared for the singer Denis Bortek to come out wearing a mask and a corset.



Only two of the five members of the band performed last night (Fred the bassist, below).



Original, to say the least...I can't look either!

The City that Never Sleeps has always attracted a crowd that both works hard and plays hard, and there’s no exception for those interested in indulging their fantasies. Such was the case for revelers at OneLegUpNYC’s recent House of Pleasure “Take-Out” soirée, held at a trendy club in Manhattan. There for a weeklong stint in the Big Apple, we good girls checked it out, intrigued by how people get naughty on the other side of the Big Pond.


Founded in 1999 as a conventional party machine, OneLegUpNYC has been since reinvented to embrace what “Sexy President” Palagia terms the “sensual movement.” Emphasizing that her events are not mere swingers’ parties, this self-described sexually liberated businesswoman offers a cozy venue with plenty of visual stimulation (including a very cute masseur!) for both couples and single women to push their sexual limits…but only when they are good and ready to. “Respecting boundaries in a very safe environment is the most comfortable way to explore new horizons,” underlines the OneLegUpNYC Web site.

The soirées are divided into two categories – “Eat-In” and “Take-Out” – both catering to couples and single women (the third category, “Side Dish,” created for singles, is being phased out). “Take-Outs” (such as the House of Pleasure event) the tamer of the two, are usually held in a club and welcome participants and voyeurs alike; if you want to hook up, you can, but if you’re not ready – or not interested – one needn’t feel unwelcome.

“These exhibitionists need voyeurs in order to do their thing, after all” explained one woman who has been attending these events for a number of years, referring to the twosomes, threesomes and foursomes frolicking on a nearby couch.

While at times reminiscent of a high school dance where not just making out, but sex (and even group sex) is on the menu, Palagia has indeed succeeded in providing a secure environment where the curious and the interested can mingle at their own pace. Women coming alone don’t have to worry about being mauled if they don’t want to be, and couples exploring the scene for the first time may find it an ideal environment to open up a new dialogue. Everyone goes as far as they want to go, if they want to do anything at all. The crowd is both respectful and convivial…and much more laidback than what one normally encounters in more traditional settings. There is no dress code (Palagia prefers that one wears what makes them feel beautiful), but there were plenty of corsets at garter belts worn this evening. And the house rules are strict; anyone who breaks them is thrown out with the chance of never returning again.

Those who like what they experienced at “Take-Out” events eventually graduate to the more hardcore “Eat-Ins,” for which memberships and screenings are required. For members, “Take-Outs” run about $45 per couple and $10 per female (prices are higher for non-members); “Eat-Ins” (which are held at private lofts or suites) cost $250 per couple and $50 per female. For more information, visit http://www.onelegupnyc.com

Sometime after midnight in May, New York.

I suppose it makes more sense to leave a little message before sneaking off to New York for a week, but we were so busy packing and running errands and getting some last minute articles done that we barely made it to the airport on time, let alone with enough breathing space to....well, breathe!

Not at ALL helped by the additional security check we had to endure thanks to a certain Canadienne getting all jittery during the customary grilling that all non-US citizens are subjected to before entering our fine country. Good thing she brought the Frenchman along to keep spirits up during the nail-biting delay. They sat behind me during the flight, giggling as they read the questions on the form they had to fill out for customs ("Are you a spy?", "Are you a nazi?", and "Are you planning on commiting terrorist acts against the US?" were some of the questions, with little "yes" and "no" boxes to check).

The Frenchman's first NY taxi ride.

So during our stay in the Big Apple we ate at two Thai, one Japanese, and one Chinese restaurant. And drinks at a fine French-Vietnamese establishment. The Frenchman ate enough hotdogs to keep America's street vendor economy booming. Between us we purchased six pairs of shoes (gotta love the weak dollar!), and three umbrellas -- because we kept leaving the ones we had at the apartment. We bought several maps, but never really figured out how everyone knows which subway platform to stand on. Vive la métro!

We finally got to meet our agent, Rebecca Freidman, in person. She took us for drinks at the lovely Pegu Club (those ginger cocktails are sooooooo yummy!), then let us wander around the Sterling Lord HQ, ogling the 12th floor views over the city as a huge storm moved in. Rebecca also noticed us drooling over the stacks of books in English (when you live in Paris, these are rare and expensive), and let us take home as many as we could carry. My suitcase made it to the taxi stand in Paris before falling apart under the weight.

Agent Friedman, trying to hide from the camera (those glass walls don't help, chérie!)

So, being in a real live literary agency for the first time, I had to ask her if there really was a slush pile. Not only does it exist, it really is a pile...see your manuscript in there?!

We had a little Happy Hour soirée for friends and clients at the appropriately-themed Madame X bar, all red velour, dimmed lamps, and $5 cocktails, woo hoo! But best of all, we even got to experience a little taste of the Naughty New York nightlife by attending one of Mademoiselle Palagia's One Leg Up parties. Stay tuned for Carolyn's play-by-play of the evening. ;)

(Note: the photos have been edited for a PG rating)

“What are good girls like you doing in a place like this?”

No one posed the question last night at “Fetish Gothic: La soirée fétichiste sombre et désespérée” – a regular event conducted by the organizers of Paris’s Soirée PervArty series in conjunction with Boutique Dèmonia. But it’s remarkable how quickly good girls adapt, and, strolling around the dungeon of Le Klub on 14, rue Saint-Denis at Metro Châtelet, three vinyl-clad women who could each easily pass as the girl next door (hey, there’s definitely a fetish for that!) mingled with those who come out of the woodwork long after the sun goes down.


Our shy maid

This doesn’t mean that some of us adaptable good girls don’t suffer from bouts of shyness (O.K., so we’re not talking about Heather) when, for example, asking a cute French boy in a maid’s outfit to pose for a photo. Perhaps it was her appreciation for good fashion and high cheekbones (his crinoline was to die for, and, well, his cheekbones were, too), but it took Carolyn a couple of sips of a vodka and tonic before approaching her subject. How, after all, does a Good Girl break the ice with a fetishist? In this environment, the standard, “Do you come here often?” just doesn’t seem appropriate.


A life-sized troll.

While the uninitiated may find fetish night people-watching a bit bizarre, this regular event – which, as Heather observed, is more “Sexy Hallowe’en” than hardcore S&M – offers a relatively laidback opportunity for curious onlookers to gain a glimpse of how the other half lives. But newbies beware, while you can look and aren’t obligated to touch (or be touched), you still have to play along: a strict dress code is enforced, requiring patrons to sport traditional fetish wear, such as vinyl, leather, latex, or uniforms, such as the aforementioned maid. (Note to those with a fireman fetish: there was even a pompier in our midst!) Last evening, participants went to great lengths on their nurse, sailor, dominatrix and slave ensembles; one individual (we never did conclude whether they were male or female) combined Friday the 13the with modern day fetishism by donning a red and black vinyl suit complete with chains, tethers, mask, and, yes, a tube through which they could breathe! It may have left us good girls gasping for air, but to each his (or her) own.


We told Carolyn not to touch, and now look what happend!




Godamn Superstar heat up the salle

The vibe at the beginning of the night was quite relaxed; one got the impression that those at Le Klub were once high school misfits, and therefore weren’t interested in judging the behavior or physical appearances of others, because they’d already been through this themselves. Things became a little more heated, however once Marilyn Manson tribute band Godamn Superstar concluded their set on the main level, driving everyone back to the dungeon. Although the environment rapidly transformed into that of a fetishist meat market (with many inquiries from shirtless men in dog collars as to whether we required a slave – unfortunately, we forgot our riding crops!), there was no need for us to feel unsafe: inappropriate behavior such as unsolicited groping are not tolerated during these soirées. If only that applied to more traditional nightlife!

The popular Bastille bistro Café de l'Industrie is taking over the Rue Sedaine, 11th. First one bistro, then another across the street, and now the other side of the intersection with Rue Sabin is L'Industrie Lingerie, an adorably sexy lingerie boutique with a retro-boudoir look. All of the lingerie is red, white or black, and by up-and-coming designers, for original and inexpensive nighties, bras, corsets and panties. A bustier and g-string combo is less than €30, and the woman who runs the boutique is friendly and super-helpful in helping you find what looks good on you.

And you get another 5% off if you bring your receipt from the Café de L'Industrie! Highly recommended.