So I spent Memorial Day weekend in Chicago, home to the International Mr. Leather (IML) competition.

Now, leather isn't necessarily my thing. I've been to the Folsom Street Fair a few times—just enough to justify owning a basic vest-and-boots combo. I don't think of my leather vest as an extension of myself. I think of it as another handy item in a closetful of accessories.

But IML is different from Folsom. First of all, it doesn't take place on a crowded street in the middle of the day; it takes place in the Grand Ballroom at the Hyatt Regency on East Wacker Drive, right off of the Magnificent Mile. In other words, I wasn't sure what to expect. So I did what anyone would do when preparing to wander into a hotel full of underdressed kinksters: I practiced my Michael Lucas pout, and I imagined that I was Olivia Newton-John at the end of Grease.



Then I went directly to IML's Leather Market—a giant kink trade show in the bowels of the Hyatt Regency. The Leather Market is the kind of place where you'll find a well-stocked array of color-coded handkerchiefs next to a bouquet of fake flowers.



You're also likely to find products that will make your ass clench in horror.



The Furries were easily the biggest crowdpleasers. (They seemed to inspire whoops of joy wherever they went.)



But the Furries, cuddly though they may be, represent a nagging problem for the leather crowd: old-school leathermen want to preserve the traditions of their world without alienating the adventurous types who are eager to explore new kinks. In other words, as with any aging institution (this year marks the event's 30th anniversary), IML is trying to establish acceptable boundaries without becoming outmoded.

During the competition on Sunday evening,  IML founder Chuck Renslow claimed that his organization "drew a line in the sand on crystal meth and barebacking"—a claim that met with a pretty subdued response from the audience. It frankly struck me as a disingenuous thing for him to say; the IML Leather Market wasn't exactly lacking for enthusiastic tributes to bareback sex. (Of course, nobody ever said that it was easy to hit a sustainable balance between free exploration and responsible suppression. So for now, let's try to agree that you should probably drop whatever you're doing if you find yourself conflating willful self-abasement with willful self-endangerment.)  

Speaking of willful self-abasement, I spent a good chunk of time at the booth sponsored by San Francisco's own Mr. S Leather, where the friendly staff greeted me by grabbing my crotch. (Well, hello there.)



The scene at Mr. S was pretty typical of the Leather Market: the staff provided plenty of opportunities for people to surrender control within a controlled environment.



I asked general manager Jonathan Schroder how things were going. "I'll admit that the economy had us worried," he said. "But it's looking like this year's booth is going to be even more successful than last year's."

Any theories to explain the success? He shrugged. "When the economy's good, people f**k. When the economy's bad, people f**k."

I don't think that Ben Bernanke would quibble with that. So does that mean it's OK for me to spend my tax rebate on a pig mask?



Oink.

(You can read my coverage of the International Mr. Leather competition here.)


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