The Erotics of Unhappiness
“Is there really no sexual excitement without at least a frisson, a pleasurable ache?” asks Daphne Merkin, a writer whose decades-long career may very well center on this very question.
Scan to download
If you’ve been considering taking your latex fetish to new heights, let Maya Fuhr show you how to DIY your next fit.
There was a study in the late 1950s, in which lab rats, a lever, and an electrical stimulator taught us something about desire. Scientists James Olds and Peter Milner attached electrodes to the brains of rats and observed their behavior. Olds and Milner noticed that when rats were rewarded, dopamine was released in the anticipation phase of the reward. They concluded that to desire something feels just as good—if not better—than receiving it.
But you don’t need to be a lab rat to understand why anticipation is a horny state of being. Just ask someone with a latex fetish. The culture revolves around having a sexual attraction to the look of the material: its tightness, its shininess, its tactile promise.
For lovers of latex, like the artist and my friend Maya Fuhr, anticipation is pure sexual presence. It’s experienced as that lingering, lurid wanting of something just out of reach, sensorily swirling around in the atmosphere; it feels like you can smell it with your eyes and hear it with your tongue.
When I visit Maya’s studio, there’s an air of edging in everything. Hazy images peer out of gaping latex holes, beckoning the gaze to linger. Safety pins pierce through skin-like rubber frames—a symbol for penetrative vexing and unfinished business. Her creative practice lies in her technique: it all starts with a repetitive process of layering paint-like latex onto a nonstick paper. The material takes 5 or so hours to dry, an arduous process of pro-longing. Once hardened, she peels and integrates the latex into photographs. What results is a porous, skin-like embalmment of an image, stuck in a suspending allure beneath the surface. The finished product is decidedly unfinished, just as desire is never done.
Here's what you'll need to make your very own latex. Can't afford rubber clothing? Make your own sheet for $100 at home.
Mold Making Latex, (32 ounce), $30
Foam Brushes, $7
Non-Stick Paper, $15
Color Pigment, $12
Plastic Tray, $2
Gloves, $3
Mask, $5-$40
Popsicle Sticks, $1
Latex Oil, $30
Apron, $50
Put on your mask, gloves, and apron. Clothing optional, play at your own risk!
Empty some latex into the tray and add as much color as you desire. Mix with a popsicle stick and watch it swirl. You can add more pigment to each layer if you desire a vibrant latex, or only a couple layers if you want a subtle hue.
Dip your brush into wet latex and apply a thin layer to your non-stick paper. Each layer takes about three hours to dry.
Tip: wrap your brush with Saran Wrap in between each layer.
This is a waiting game, the submissive pleasure of anticipating. You're working towards something here. You will be painting ten layers in all.
Tip: Apply a strip of masking tape to your table, and mark each layer with a marker so you can keep track of how many layers you have done.
The latex layers will take some time, so I suggest you have fun in the meantime. Put on an outfit that makes you feel good.
Tip: submissive poses are welcome. Try getting on all fours and surrender to the process. Wait.
Add a layer, wait for it to dry. Add another layer, wait for it to dry. Add yet another layer, wait for it to dry. You're almost there!
Tip: Do a layer late in the day, so it can dry overnight. In the morning, you can wake up and do it again. it feels best in the morning.
The last layers are approaching. The anticipation is killing you.
Tip: Wear a confining outfit, something tight and restrictive.
Once you've completed your ten layers of latex, it's the time you've been waiting for. The climax! Slowly peel back the latex. Take your time. Enjoy your well-deserved sheet of rubbery heaven.
Tip: do not wear gloves so you can notice the stretchy, soft feeling of the latex.
Allow yourself to melt into the pure bliss of aftercare. Apply oil and stroke the latex soothingly.
Tip: share the experience with a friend, partner, or crush. Invite them to rub it down too.
“Is there really no sexual excitement without at least a frisson, a pleasurable ache?” asks Daphne Merkin, a writer whose decades-long career may very well center on this very question.
There’s pleasure to be had in searching, desiring, and getting your cart filled. Lauren Festa investigates the sartorial hotness of The RealReal.
How best can we, as consumers and creators, love fashion? Five distinct critical voices (and self-defined fashion lovers) talk to Feeld about their complex romances, and how we might live better with this most capricious of beloveds.