An expert in the field knows what the rich and powerful get up to behind closed doors.
It seems I should disclaim this at least a little bit, and say that Belle De Jour (or the good Doctor Brooke Magnanti, when she’s not writing about her exploits as a high class London call girl) is something of a hero of mine. Maybe hero is too big of a word. But certainly a role model for how to enjoy your work, write some books that discuss your viewpoints and adventures without disparaging or tattling on anyone, and then leverage all of that into a platform for championing worthwhile things. That’s the Classy Dame™ way to play all of that. No gossipy BS – just witty, clever writing, and honest analysis.
So I pay pretty close attention to what she does now, since her public outing as the formerly anonymous author of Secret Diary of a Call Girl, even though she’s been out of the game for a time. I was delighted that attention brought me her essay for the Evening Standard a couple weeks back, wherein she tells what she knows about watersports (“…if I can be honest? It’s a little bit dull,”), offers advice to fantasy-hungry politicians (“they should act out their fantasies with caution: even vanilla affairs have the power to end careers,”), and how to behave after you find yourself in a ‘messy’ situation (“If you are in a hotel room, spare a thought (and a generous wad of notes) for the poor soul who has to clean after you. It’s only polite”).
The Evening Standard curiously requested that I only reproduce a small portion of the work here, but it’s very worth your read in full, once you’re finished on my blog:
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DR BROOKE MAGNANTI | Friday 13 January 2017
The sexual proclivities of the rich and powerful are indulged behind locked hotel room doors. Domination, kink, role-play — in gilded suites around the world, extra-curricular sex is a daily fact of life. The working day of a sex worker is a steady stream of putting judgment on hold to satisfy the carnal cravings of paying clients. And so to golden showers.
This week, an unverified dossier was published that contained an allegation that President-elect Donald Trump paid prostitutes in a Moscow hotel room to urinate on a bed previously occupied by Barack Obama and his wife Michelle. The claim has been vigorously denied, and yet it has shone a light on the machinations of call girls and their customers.
As kinks go, golden showers are not as extreme as they sound. I myself have both given and received such attentions. At double the going rate, why not? It was easier money than pretending to be on a date and less exposure to potential diseases than unprotected oral sex (another frequent request). And if I can be honest? It’s a little bit dull. It is entry-level perversion at best. Basic. But as an image, even the idea of Russian beauties desecrating the bed of a hated rival has few equals. It is wonderfully theatrical, even if the objects of the sentiment perhaps didn’t know until now they had been so reviled.
Golden showers are both symbolic and sexual. What is the appeal of these acts, and why to they fascinate us so? For a certain kind of man simply getting his end away, we are to assume, is not enough. Supermodels might be thrilling at first but a steady diet of top totty must get boring…
As I said at the top, Dr. Magnanti has a way with words, and her urine-dappled wordplay in this essay is truly top shelf. Would that I might be such a clever writer one day.
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