Tag Archives: dressing up
Heels at work: the conflation of ‘smart’ and ‘pretty’
Sometimes I see an issue pop up in the news and think ‘oh God I can’t be bothered,’ and this week’s discussion about women wearing high heels at work was almost one of them. But then I remembered something an old boss said to me, and the bile rose in my throat so I thought: fuck it. I’m doing this. I’m going to state the massively obvious.
Are fetish club dress codes always necessary?
“Dear GOTN, despite the fact that you’re a grumpy arse for most of the year, I’d like to invite you to my birthday party…
Ooh! A party! How fun!
“It will be held on Saturday at 8pm…”
Yay! I’m free on Saturday! I can go!
“At this address…
I’ll find it on Gmaps. Oooh, I’m so excited!
“The fancy dress theme will be…”
Shit it, I’m not going.
(more…)
Sexy lingerie versus casual sleepwear
I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that sexy lingerie is for other people. The kind of people who can smile coquettishly and raise a solitary eyebrow, who sashay through a room rather than stomp across it, and who lounge sexily on a bedspread rather than throw themselves onto it in exhaustion after a long day.
When I smile coquettishly I just look smug, and although I’d love to do the saucy eyebrow-raise, when I attempt it I just look like I’m trying (and failing) to remember pi.
Lace knickers, half-cup bras, suspender belts and thongs and camis and silky, see-through dressing gowns that press against my tits to show the colour contrast of nipples and skin… ah, I’d love to be able to wear this stuff like the ladies in the lingerie catalogues. But even though I can’t pull this stuff off, there’s one kind of outfit that I find even sexier…
Guest blog: Latex fetish wear
When people send me guest blogs which so beautifully capture the delight and desire in a very specific fetish, I go a bit weak at the knees. I don’t think you have to share a particular fetish, or kink, in order to enjoy hearing about it – one of the things I love most about fet is the twinkle in someone’s eyes as they wax lyrical about the exact reasons why they love something. I might not understand the fetish in itself, but the passion and delight with which someone explains their desire is arousing in and of itself. I think so, at any rate.
So when this week’s guest blogger – LatexLegs – sent me ‘part 1’ of a story about his fantasy night dressed head to toe in latex fetish wear, the delicious intensity with which he described his arousal stood out pretty strongly. It’s fantasy rather than real-life, and there’s an aching longing there which reminds me of certain wistful stories I wrote before I had the opportunity to fully embrace the sex I wanted to have with a partner. As I say, this is part 1, and I’ve had a sneak preview of part 2. I don’t usually publish more than one guest blog from each person, but this covers something which I can’t talk about with the same degree of fiery passion and hotness, so if you like this leave a comment and I’ll squeeze part 2 into the new year.
On the importance of looking the part
I usually rock up to dates in jeans. Jeans say ‘I’m not necessarily going to fuck you’. This might come as a surprise given that apparently I’m the sort of slapper who would solicit pictures of erect cocks via a mediocre sex blog.
But I don’t shag everyone – I’ll only sleep with guys I actually fancy. Wearing jeans as opposed to short skirts and hooker boots helps to reinforce the idea that we’re having a casual drink which might lead to sex rather than a swift half-pint and hello as a prelude to guaranteed sex.
But once the initial introductions and the first few shags are out of the way, it’s fun to surprise someone by changing from a scruffy, chubby, late-twenties goth figure into a stunning hellcat beamed in from the alternative sex dimension. Or a poor man’s version of it, at any rate.
Here are some clothes that are sexy:
Stockings
And not fucking silky ones with suspenders either. Proper massive old wooly stockings (see fig. 1), that you can roll right up to the crack of your butt-cheeks and get on and off in less than 7 seconds. Stockings you can tear at without them falling to bits. Stockings you never need to worry about ruining.
Frilly/colourful pants
Proper pants as opposed to insubstantial bits of string. Burlesque-y. Lacy. Frilly. Pink. YES I SAID PINK. On the outside I’m grey and black and beige and denim and drab. But underneath my pants will usually be brilliant, with little pink hearts or turquoise stripes and bows and bells and whistles.
OK, maybe not whistles.
Necklaces
They frame the neck nicely, decorate my décolletage, make me look feminine and gentle. They also give you something to aim for when you’re jizzing on my tits.
Massive fuckoff boots
Look at me! I am gigantic, and my legs look shapely and brilliant! I will crush you beneath the heels unless you do me this instant! Boots rock. If you let me keep them on I’ll let you stick it wherever you like.
Fishnets
Tights, I mean – they make my arse look spectacular. These you can rip to your heart’s content because they never last long anyway. Reach up into the crotch, tear a hole in them and then slide my knickers to one side so you can touch my cunt. Mmm. Fishnets.
Corsets
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. You know how it’s lovely when you squeeze my tits? A corset does exactly the same thing, but harder, and more permanently. If I’m alone sometimes I’ll put one on, tie it nice and tight, and fuck whatever I have to hand until I reach sweating, writhing, deliciously restricted orgasm.
As an aside – gents – if I’m wearing a corset it’s because (brace yourselves) I want you to fuck me in it. It’s always a bit disappointing if I’ve got all dressed up and a guy wants to take it off – my slightly disappointing naked torso is never worth removing a beautiful corset for. So bend me over, grab hold of the laces, and fuck me like an 18th century chambermaid.