The horse has bolted, taking the scantily-clad rider with it

So, another Sexpo update almost a week later! I am surely one of the more timely bloggers around.

I spent Friday and the weekend in a sort of daze; the stall was incredibly busy and because of that, I really didn’t get to explore the other stands as much as I would have liked to. I ended up catching only a distant glimpse of Penisaurus, which made me feel sad; along with all the dickheads who buy and then proudly wear Dirty Pierre t-shirts with devastatingly witty slogans such as “Terrorists: fuck ’em” and “Dirty Pierre says drink beer for the taste, not coz ya gonna root a fat chick”, Penisaurus for me is one of those dependable Sexpo events.

I’ve always been amused by the way some people dress up to come to Sexpo. I’ve never really sure why this is, although my suspicions lie with first-timers who suppose Sexpo to be far more exciting than it actually is. This seems to be a lot of people actually; random polling of whomever I happened to be talking to before Sexpo revealed that people who had never been before believed it to be a lot more exciting than those who had been and realised that it’s basically the overpriced Queen Vic Market of adult products. As such, while there’s technically nothing wrong with dressing up all slutty for it, it’s not really a prerequesite. This doesn’t stop the parade of general public T&A every year, not that I’m exactly complaining. I always have to wonder, though, how vastly differently people are dressed than they would be if they were, say, going to Chadstone (or, in the case of a few choice individuals I had the pleasure of seeing, that would be going to Mid Valley shopping centre, located on the outskirts of exotic Morwell. If you’ve never heard of Morwell, think Moe, but skankier. Yes, really.). Far be it from me to criticise gratuitous displays of titty, but since in my experience women tend to dress up “sexily” for a specific reason, I’m wondering exactly what reasons those are. I’m not sure random hookups actually happen all that often among Sexpo visitors (stall employees are a different matter however, ahem). Maybe some of these women are hoping to buck that trend. I don’t know. I saw one woman in the toilets who I assumed was a stripper, not in any sort of pejorative way, just because I’ve noticed in the past that Sexpo strippers often turn up at the beginning of the day already scantily clad, possibly to make things easier later. An hour or so later, though, I saw this woman and her male partner wandering around laden with shopping bags. She was still pretty much as dressed as she had been in the toilets at the start of the day. Which is to say, after I got a better look at her and realised she was a lot older than I’d first assumed, that she still looked like mutton dressed as the kind of lamb that the butcher has injected with red dye and displayed on that fake grass shit to make it look more appetising.

This feeds into another phenomenon I’ve noticed of late, which doesn’t really have anything to do with Sexpo, except tangentially, and that is women dressing really inappropriately for their age. I don’t mean to suggest that women in their forties or over shouldn’t make an effort, but when you’re in your forties or fifties and you’re walking around in tight hipster jeans down to your pubic bone and a midriff t-shirt, you’re going to look silly, no matter how fantastic a body you’ve got. It’s kind of like when you see 12 year old girls who haven’t started puberty wearing shirts with sexually suggestive or outright crude slogans. Do your parents not notice/care what you leave the house in, sweetie, or are you actually an undercover employee of Operation Auxin?

I am, of course, getting sidetracked. Regular and perceptive readers of this blog may have noticed that it consists of about 90% sidetracking and 3% intentional content (the rest is about boobies).

I would have liked more of a chance to look around; to confirm whether my suspicion that there were less stalls overall and more completely-non-sex-related (or even heath related, because let’s remember that Club X’s assertion that Sexpo is a “health and sexuality and lifestyle” expo isn’t complete bullshit at all) stalls than in previous years. I also would have liked to be able to buy more things; as it was, I bought some lovely lingerie/costumery (I use the term “costumery” because I always feel conspicuously dressed up if my various girlbits are clad in anything fancier than cotton undies and one of my regulation minimiser bras, which moonlight as attack dog muzzles when I’m not wearing them.) from a new label called Sexiaz, which I recommend highly. On one of my wanderings, I ended up at the Pleasure Activism stall having a bit of a chat. They seem like a nice bunch. I’ve joined their email group, and while I’m currently lurking, it’s been an interesting read so far.

The guy I was working for, Michael, was really nice, and was quite impressed with me, so it looks like I’ve probably got work for next year. Yay!

And yes: I am fully aware that, had I written this entry several days ago, I would have remembered what else it was that I wanted to write. Nyah.

One Response to “The horse has bolted, taking the scantily-clad rider with it”

  1. kathryn Says:

    Yeah the first time I went to Sexpo I was expecting it to be more, well sexy. My sister and I got free tix and walked around all arvo until we realised that we were the only non-couple in the whole place. But we got penis water pistols so we were happy.