Veggie Whap
Can veganism and S/M be reconciled?
Is the bondage community likely to embrace a Mr. Pleatherman competition?
Fab, October 9, 2003 to October 22, 2003

Wander through Come As You Are, the socially-conscious sex shop on Queen West, and you'll spot the usual: dolphin-shaped dildos, shemale porno and blueberry-flavoured lube. Nothing out of the ordinary here, unless you take a careful caress through the bondage gear section, where you'll discover vegan wrist and ankle restraints, butt-slappers and dildo harnesses. No, really. In June of this year the prayers of lactose-intolerant, Canadian S/M aficionados were finally answered with the introduction of leather-like, animal-free bondage wear.

The existence of such a product raises an obvious question or two: Have vegans avoided bondage until now because they were unable to find cruelty-free equipment? Or did they consciously chose not to slap, slap, slap and tickle because of their ethical lifestyle? As a posting on a vegan blog in August of last year noted, "There is some great irony about cruelty here."

Indeed, anyone who has spent more than a few moments inside Northbound Leather realizes that bondage gear represents the antithesis of veganism. Here, rack upon rack of jackets, pants, bustiers, dresses and zippered hangman hoods sparkle with a dull black winking glow, seductively waiting for a human and all their corresponding fantasies to be poured and fitted inside these dead cow costumes. The singular odour of fresh leather slowly decomposing fills the store, suggesting that true animal passions can only be stirred whilst wearing the skin of a deceased mammal. Standing here, it's difficult to believe that veganism and S/M can be reconciled.

But a careful examination of both freak clusters (or, to use the more polite term, "subcultures") reveals that vegans and sadomasochists share a certain strictness and abiding passion for rules. The leather scene is carefully coded and ritualized, with coloured handkerchiefs (in either one's right or left pocket) signifying various preferences, such as fister (red), rimmer (beige), shrimper (coral) or scatologist (brown). Vegans, meanwhile, follow strict diets and argue about the ethical dilemmas surrounding honey and pollen, yeast and Jell-O with evangelical fervour. (As Jesse Grass, a young activist who appeared once on The Simpsons, bragged, "I'm a level-five vegan. I won't eat anything that casts a shadow.") Despite some mainstreaming in the past decade -- tofurky, the turkey substitute, was an answer on Jeopardy! a few years ago --- both groups spend most of their existence on the margins, extreme lifestyles suited to few.

Until recently, it looked as if the two would never meet in the same hallway, much less conjoin. But in his recent book The Hipster Handbook, author Robert Lantham describes a subspecies of scenester known as an Enigmatard -- someone who "adheres to a strict no-meat-or-dairy philosophy in their diet, but wear lots of leather." These creatures evolved because some consider vegan food fashionable, but divorce the ethical underpinnings from the nutritional aspects. And while most omnivores believe a lifetime without meat and milk is be punishment enough, some vegans want more even suffering in their lives. Enter vegan bondage, a more ethical variant of the Enigmatard anomaly. But is the vegan philosophy strong enough to integrate elements and ideas from a divergent subculture? Conversely, is the bondage community likely to embrace a Mr. Pleatherman competition? In short: Can veganism and S&M be reconciled?

And if so, will anyone really care?

* * *

There would be no cow-free bondage gear for sale in Come As You Are were it not for Vegan Zero, an anonymous fellow who walked into said store late last year, inquiring about condoms devoid of dairy. Gill Lamon, a CAYA co-owner, dealt with Vegan Zero, and was surprised to learn -- as is everyone, quite frankly -- that condoms aren't cruelty-free. It turns out that not only lambskin (duh) but plain old latex is not vegan-friendly. Casien, a milk protein, is used to cure latex.

"I had no idea," admits Lamon, "so I went on-line and looked at a bunch of places that talked about vegan condoms, and I discovered that there was really only one supplier, and that's VeganErotica.com." Launched in 2001, the Utah-based Web site distributes the full range of Condomi brand condoms, including flavoured (sorry, no herb tofu or lentil), large, thin, and regular styles. (And no, don't worry, the spermicide isn't tested on animals). Based in Cologne, Germany, the Condomi company formed in early 1999 and quickly received the English Vegan Society's seal of approval, the equivalent of an Oscar in the world of cruelty-free products.

In a BBC on-line article from April of 1999, Vegan Society general manager Richard Fairhall said of Condomi, "No longer will vegans have to suppress their natural instinct to make love not war." What Fairhall neglected to mention is that if your veganism is so fierce that you don't want trace amounts of milk protein touching your dick, you probably have more pressing problems, such as trying to find someone willing to tolerate intercourse with someone so hardcore about non-dairy creamers.

But vegan condoms weren't the only thing that Gill Lamon discovered at VeganErotica.com. Since late May of last year, VeganErotica founder Eric Ward, a 23-year-old animal rights activist, has been peddling vegan paddlers out of his Salt Lake City apartment. After browsing his site, Lamon decided to order a couple of samples to see if the products were any good. A shy young woman, Lamon demurs somewhat as she describes testing vegan wrist restraints, a flogger and a slapper. What she will say, however, is that she was, for the most part, pleased with the results: "The restraints were high quality. Really well made. They endured all stress inflicted upon them."

But why create vegan bondage gear in the first place? George Giaouris, co-owner of Northbound Leather takes delight in trying to shock as he tours me through a number of leather-free items, flecked with stainless steel, that resemble medieval torture equipment -- a reminder that tit clamps, rubber and pleather have always been vegan. Other devices utilize space-age materials, including the CB 3000, a plastic cock-and-ball chastity cage, replete with brass padlock. "The way this works," Giaouris explains, showing me the penile equivalent of solitary confinement, "is you put this ring up against your body, your scrotum hangs down here and your balls are sandwiched between these two rings. This prevents erection. You can't even play with yourself."

Northbound has been combining leather with pleather for a number of years as a way of reducing costs on items like corset gowns, along with adding spandex to some piecess to provide both economy and elasticity for freedom of movement and breathability. Purists might blanch, but it's difficult to argue with the bottom line. Still, Marty Rotman, head designer at Northbound Leather for over 10 years, estimates that considerably less than 10% of the Northbound floor space is occupied by PVC, pleather and rubber items.

Back in Mormon country, Eric Ward of VeganErotica.com feels that the aesthetic appeal of leather collars and wristbands cannot be duplicated with PVC. Blame his high school Goth phase for implanting the cowhide fetish. This, coupled with a three-year search for a vegan belt that wasn't, in Ward's words, "crappy" led to him to seek out a durable, synthetic substitute for leather. Eventually he discovered Lorica, an Italian microfibre that is water repellent and machine-washable, and one of the only synthetic leathers that breathes. Meaning "armour" in Latin, Lorica is resistant to tearing, splitting, scratching and rubbing. (In Spring of 2000, Dr. Martens introduced vegan boots and shoes using a mixture of Lorica and PVC.)

It took six months for Ward to save up enough money and effectively communicate his desires to the Italian company, whose English is nearly non-existent. His first belt made with Lorica has lasted a year and a half and counting, and as Ward points out with smug satisfaction, "I wear it everyday." Ward is so devoted to the cause, so anti-animal and anti-fashion, that previous to the miracle of Lorica, he used a piece of rope to keep his pants secure for a few years.

But Lorica might not be strong enough to bind together the contradictions of two distinct subcultures -- it certainly isn't sturdy enough to inflict serious injury. "I think that in terms of any of their floggers they would have to be in the lightweight range," explains Gill Lamon, over at Come As You Are HQ. "Unless the material is altered significantly, it would never make for a very painful flogging experience," she adds with a small laugh. Few should be surprised that a vegan flogger can't do the job -- it clearly wasn't tested on animals, nor on humans.

Still, Lamon notes that "there's a fair bit of range. It actually allows a freedom, in terms of the flogging." She laughs again. "You can actually flog a lot harder than you might be used to, because it's not going to have the same impact as rubber or leather would." Proponents dub this sort of vegan S/M "passion with compassion." Others call it "bondage lite" -- half the fun with none of the guilt.

While CAYA is likely the first (and perhaps only) store in Canada to carry VeganErotica.com products, Lamon thinks that initial sales might be slow. Still, the product line is a snug philosophical fit for the five-year-old, collectively-owned store, which has always attempted to offer customers a range of options. According to Lamon, "Most of our mandate is about making toys and pleasure and sexuality accessible. So it makes sense to have gear and toys that appeal to people who don't want to inflict suffering upon any living creature" -- she pauses for a moment -- "well, except themselves maybe."

* * *

Eric Ward is quick to dismiss the apparent contradiction in being a selectively cruel vegan. "I don't think it's a conflict at all. Bondage gear and sado-masochism are not related to veganism. I don't think there's any relation whatsoever. They're two totally separate issues," he says, emphatically. "In my research -- and I've also participated in the community a little bit -- it's about role-playing."

Ward concludes his defense of vegan bondage by noting, "It's a simulation. You're simulating a dominance and a submission that doesn't exist in real life. You're not creating suffering. You're not creating cruelty. You're simply re-enacting it." But bruises, rope burns and whip cuts are not simulacra; perhaps Ward is in deep denial. In the Douglas Coupland novel Microserfs, a character named Morris visits Amsterdam and tries a vegetarian burger at McDonald's. Morris emails his friend Daniel with a negative review, and goes on to ask, "By eating 'burgers,' aren't you just still buying into the 'meat concept?' Tofu hot dogs are merely an isotope of meat. If you yourself are a vegetarian, but still dream of burgers, then all you really are is a cryptocarnivore."

The more vegan bondage tinkers with the definition and codes of traditional S/M, the more it risks being labelled a postmodern curiosity. By converting cruelty into cryptocruelty, vegan bondage risks becoming something else entirely. Still, it's a bit premature for the leather freaks to panic. Being a subculture within a subculture, like a breakaway religious sect, means being ignored and orphaned by everyone. A year and half after Ward debuted his vegan slappers and dildo harnesses, he estimates he receives one order a week for bondage gear. For now, vegan condoms continue to be his bread and, er, margarine. He sells about 1000 per month, and is the only distributor of the Condomi brand in North America.

Either sales figures are an accurate reflection of demand, or Ward is ahead of the curve. He certainly has some high-profile supporters. During the last few years, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) have been using porn stars, Hollywood actresses and pop music chanteuses to champion pleather cat suits and slutwear. Porn star Serenity -- star of such films as Gush Hour and Lip Service -- along with Jacklyn Lick (a Dominatrix who has appeared in films such as Tortured Beauties, Dealer Of Domination and Spanked Assets) have become spokespeople for PETA's "Buy Fake for the Animals' Sake" campaign, detailed at pleatheryourself.com, one of the numerous Web sites PETA operates.

Recently, PETA has turned its attention toward gay men. In January of this year, they staged a protest during the Mid-Atlantic Leather Weekend held in Washington, D.C. Dan Mathews, vice-president of PETA (who happens to be gay) was there, wearing an animal-friendly rubber motorcycle outfit, joined by PETA's transsexual campaigner Kayla Rae Worden (outfitted in pleather dominatrix gear including spiked-heel stilettos and hot pants). According to Lisa Franzetta, campaign co-ordinator at PETA, the demonstration was meant "to show people that you can be just as sexy or even as sleazy looking as you want without killing animals."

Using the old Madison Avenue parlour trick of sex appeal to sell beer or cars is one thing, but peddling an ethical stance with tits and ass is strange, new territory. A July 2002 press release from PETA praises the "sin-thetic" bondage gear of VeganErotica.com, which takes the "cow" out of "cower." Part of the battle is overcoming the stereotypes associated with humourless animal-rights activists and pallid vegans, who, despite appearances to the contrary, do actually have sex. Marty Rotman at Northbound says, "I think it's probably the lesbian market that's going to be more concerned about vegan products than the male community."

Still, the thought of a skinny, fragile, Juice for Life vegan whipping his or her partner seems so remote from reality as to be comical, especially after I decide to visit the real deal -- a bear cave full of what I imagine to be starving meat eaters, feasting on brontosaurus ribs from The Flintstones.

For the past year and half, party promoter Steve Buczek has organized Sizzling Sundays, a leather and bear BBQ on the rooftop of the Black Eagle, a casual red meat and greet. As Gerry, a regular, puts it, "It's daylight. You can see people's faces. There's none of that cruising bullshit." Classic rock serves as the soundtrack for 200 or so guys sipping dad beer like Molson Export Ale and Black Ice, their cigarette smoke mixing with the acrid odour of $2.50 burgers, the coals tended by a huge slab of man, a grizzly with an apron, and nary a chunk of tofu in sight. The weekly raffle prizes have included DVD players, tickets to various events and, of course, George Foreman grills.

Ruining the tidy stereotype of carnivorous gay rednecks is the potato and macaroni salad for sale, $1 per serving, which is quite popular, according Buczek. With a full beard, shorts and a blue Boston Fire Department T-shirt, it would be easy to mistake Buczek for a blue jeans and vanilla fella. But since 1997 he's been buying leather, and now owns 20 different pieces, worth nearly $3000. "I like the masculinity and the whole look of it," says Buczek, as he explains his leather fetish. "I like the look of it on someone, I like the smell of it... I love leather. I'm not into the rubber or the PVC thing, but it looks great on some people."

I talk at length with Gerry, a former Harley owner with a big beard and a biker's build, who has spent $5000 over the past 15 years on leather. "All my friends eat meat," he notes, but Gerry has no animosity toward the other side, especially since he likes wearing a bit of rubber under his leathers. Like Buczek, Gerry also likes the smell and feel of leather. For all its miracle properties, Lorica, the fabric that makes vegan bondage gear possible, has no odour. Microfibres might act and feel like leather, but it's impossible to duplicate the olfactory elements.

I also chat with Tom Wright, an articulate, shirtless, bald guy with a leather vest and a pierced left nipple, who wants to become Mr. Leatherman 2004. Tom has spent eight years and $5000 building his wardrobe, including two sets of chaps, pants, shirt, two vests, a leather tank top, two pairs of boots and five jocks. "I wear leather all the time," he says. But as he notes, the stereotypes run both ways: "I've got friends who go to Woody's but would never come here, because they think the leather guys are scary. A lot of the guys here, the leather guys, are some of the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet. They're friendly and very outgoing."

Despite fears to the contrary, the bears didn't bite -- in fact, they were much more accommodating than the vegans. Lisa Franzetta, the PETA campaign co-ordinator who argues that "Whatever your fetish is, animal suffering is a turn-off." Not that the leather freaks are entirely silent on the debate. As Northbound's George Giaouris notes, "Some of the products that vegans use as alternatives are far more polluting and harmful to the environment. PVC for instance -- polyvinyl chloride -- is horrible." Giaouris cites the atmospheric pollution caused during its manufacture and the fact that it doesn't decompose in a landfill. He argues that cowhide is merely a by-product of the meat-packing industry and that "so long as McDonald's is in existence, there will be leather skins."

Unlike Gerry, a fellow who is constantly open to new fetishes and experiences, vegans are often guilty of debating themselves into a self-righteous stupor, somehow finding a way to remove the pleasure from sex, only willing to engage in intercourse if German condoms and all-botanical or organic lubricant made from grapefruit seed extract, hemp seed oil or horny goat weed is present. Back in December of 2001, eye weekly's sex columnist Sasha found herself answering the following question: "My new girlfriend is vegan and refuses to kiss my penis because tasting sperm is against vegan principles. Is it true that semen is off-limits for vegans?"

Sasha's answer, in part, was: "One of the principles of veganism is that, as human beings, the length of our intestines suggests we were not intended to ingest animal protein. In other words, perhaps your girlfriend truly feels semen is bad for her body. Or she just doesn't want to suck your dick." But really, why stop at semen? What about vaginal fluid or dead skin cells or breast milk or even saliva?

Is either community ready for a vegan leather bear? Probably not. Not yet, anyway. The ideological quirks and kinks of PETA-approved bondage gear still need to be smoothed out, taking it out of the produce department and into the dungeon. For now, the leather fans and the fanatical vegans will make strange bedfellows. Vancouver chef Yves Potvin is revered among vegetarians and vegans for his ability to sculpt mock back bacon and turkey slices from soybeans. Perhaps one day Eric Ward will be equally celebrated for creating ethical bondage gear. That, or the inability of most vegans to mate successfully will make them an endangered species.