Strangely, for a documentary with ‘pleasure’ in the title, the majority of those interviewed in this film could not have looked like they were having less fun. I’m sure they were all as enthusiastic about rubber, latex and leather as they said they were, but perhaps the anxiety of being essentially publicly outed in DRESSING FOR PLEASURE as fetish-wear fanatics took over. Lucky for them, the film was banned by London Weekend Television, so their exposure was limited. Until now. But, in the wake of FIFTY SHADES OF GREY bringing BDSM into mainstream consciousness, the revelations of DRESSING FOR PLEASURE are all relatively tame, and verging on the comical.
The film is over thirty years old, and one can only imagine how subversive it would have been at the time of its original release. It does, however, retain an element of being “out there” even now. That is more down to the matter-of-fact presentation of the subject than anything else. The conservative Auntie Beeb narration and directors John Samson and Mike Wallington’s downplayed factual documentary style give DRESSING FOR PLEASURE a bizarre air.
his monotone does not even slightly waver when he gets to “latex peek-a-boo bra and crotchless panties.”
Perhaps it was the intention of the subjects to add a sense of normalcy to their fetishism, but their deadpan delivery just ends up coming across as rather odd. The filmmakers brought together a selection of very regular people for their exploration of this fringe activity, and one assumes that would have only added to the film’s shock factor at the time of its inception. It might have created a sense of fear that these unsavoury characters were walking amongst us; they could be your bank manager, the headteacher at your child’s school or your GP. Heaven forbid!
With the framing of the interviews, Samson and Wallington play upon this thought. From the neck up, these fetishists could be a bunch of stereotypical accountants with bald patches, thick-rimmed glasses and mumsy hairdos aplenty. In one particular case, the camera starts with an ordinary head shot, then we see a hand resting a cigarette gently on an ashtray, on the arm of a chintzy armchair: a frightfully normal scene. That is, until the camera pans out and we see this otherwise prudish-looking middle-aged man is dressed in a rubber catsuit complete with chain detailing.
… the respectability is maintained, latex legitimised.
The subject of sex, and the fact that dressing up like this is aimed at achieving a sexual thrill, is left largely out of the picture – despite being alluded to by the title. It is almost as though the fetishists are trying to cheat us into believing that the pleasure principle lies in the practical benefits of wearing this kinky gear. The film opens by running through the unique selling points of leather, latex and rubber garments – durability, breath-ability, the close fit. And somewhere around the midpoint of the film, the ladies from The Mackintosh Society are boasting the waterproofing benefits of leather coats. The odd bare breast is thrown in for good measure, but each time in a completely asexual and anatomical way. Even when a male voice-over reads off the contents of a sex shop clothing rack, his monotone does not even slightly waver when he gets to “latex peek-a-boo bra and crotchless panties.”
It is not until the final scene of DRESSING FOR PLEASURE that there is even a hint that sadomasochism might be a pursuit one would entertain in (what would now be readily recognised as) a gimp suit. But even with a couple in bondage gear, the man on his knees licking the woman’s spiked and buckled PVC boot and some slow, sensual unzipping moves, the respectability is maintained, latex legitimised.
httpvh://youtu.be/JNpXrjkEanQ