The acronym BDSM covers the most widely discussed components of kink: bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism. But what about the kinky stuff not covered in that acronym? What about sexual fetishes?
What about fetishes indeed. As a lifelong fetishist who enjoys a community of kinky friends, I struggle with how fetishistic desire is marginalized even within those circles.
One example: the premier social website for all things kink is called FetLife, but its most widely-searched “fetishes” aren’t technically fetishes at all. The most popular searches for actual fetishes on FetLife are things like high heels, stockings, and leather, which are conventionally sexy, not unusual at all.
This is partly because the word “fetish” is used in inconsistent ways to indicate anything of interest. You might hear someone say, “I have an avocado toast fetish,” for Pete’s sake. But for something as taboo as non-normative sex, the words we use to talk about this stuff matter. We need the word “fetish” to mean something solid.
So what is an erotic fetish, also known as a paraphilia? The standard definition is an object or body part whose real or imagined presence is psychologically necessary for that individual’s sexual satisfaction. The components of this definition—the real or fantasized presence; the psychological necessity; the idea of gratification—are key to fetishism and are what make it a subcategory distinct within the realm of kink.
Whereas other kinds of kink center on general types of behaviors or actions (such as pain or domination), a fetish is incredibly specific, and, for the fetishist who craves it, almost supernatural in the hold it has on them. All kinds of kinksters enjoy doing sexy stuff with or to the items, textiles, or appendages they adore, but fetishists can get a powerful kick from the mere existence, proximity, or mention of that object. And a fetishist’s obsession with our object of desire is so total that a strong reaction is often triggered even in non-erotic contexts: a sock fetishist might get suddenly and uncomfortably aroused by a brief, unsexual moment in a laundry detergent commercial. In this way, we are a slightly different breed of deviant than other kinky folks.
The fetishized object or body part, beyond providing a sexual jolt, can also be deeply comforting to the fetishist, like a risqué version of a security blanket. In a 1988 essay on folk fetishes (the nonerotic talismans found in cultures around the world), anthropologist Roy Ellen detailed four facets of the talisman’s hold on its user: a) embodying a cultural principle, b) being viewed as a living entity, c) operating as a direct connection to the principle it represents, and d) conducting a sense of power. One could argue that a leather fetishist, for example, does the same with the motorcycle jacket they swoon over: they see the jacket as offering a sense of authority, they treat the jacket with worshipful reverence, and they feel blissed out when shining, licking, or otherwise hanging out with the jacket.
But just because a person finds something really arousing does not mean they have a fetish for it. Let’s take high heels as an example: most people would agree that heels have an erotic edge. But how far does that attraction go? Would you find a gorgeous chick in stilettos just as sexy when she takes them off? Would you stare at the woman instead of the shoes she has just discarded? If so, you’re probably not a high heel fetishist.
The spectrum of fetishistic desire
Because I’ve been wrestling with my own idiosyncratic and potent fetishes for as long as I can remember, I’ve developed a theory: that fetishistic sexuality exists on a spectrum.
The basic idea is that we all have sexual preferences: looks, behaviors, smells, and activities we gravitate toward. Those preferences may be mild or strong, but don’t qualify as fetishes: for example, I am drawn to dark eyes more than light eyes, but I don’t fixate on my lovers’ eyes or eye color, and light eyes would not make someone unappealing to me. For those of us who have preferences that veer into fetish territory, however, what we are sexually drawn to can feel like a supercharged magnet.
I propose a scale of mild-to-fetishistic preferences, from Level 0 (no fetishistic preferences) to Level 4 (hardcore fetishism). For example, a Level 0 fetishist with urophilia, or an interest in pee-play, would have no particular interest in incorporating urine into their sex life, and is likely a little weirded out by the thought of trying it. A mild, Level 1 pee fetishist might feel some excitement thinking about piss as part of a sexual encounter: maybe they’d like to watch someone pee before sex, or get aroused by porn that has some piss-play in it. A more serious, Level 2 fetishist actively seeks out erotic materials featuring urine, and enjoys the smell, taste, and/or feeling of piss, but most likely wants these things as part of play that leads to other sexual activity. By the time we get to a Level 3 fetishist, we’re talking about someone for whom the very thought or image of urine-related stuff turns them on, and sex just isn’t at its peak unless there’s some engagement in the specific piss-play of their fantasies. And a Level 4, hardcore fetishist is primarily interested in the urine itself: piss is magical and intoxicating, almost all fantasies center around it, and other kinds of sexual play pale in comparison.
True fetishes tend to feel hardwired. We fetishists have early childhood memories of getting aroused by this seemingly non-erotic thing, be it a pair of nylons, a pregnant belly, or a boxing match. Lots of people enjoy spanking, but when I listen to interviews with “spankos,” or spanking fetishists, they talk about growing up masturbating while reading the definition of spanking in a dictionary. Another trait that may separate a spanko from someone who merely likes to get spanked is that the fetishist is so besotted by their talismanic object of desire that they don’t get too hung up about the person who comes with it: the spanking is more important than the identity of the spanker or spankee.
While it can certainly be disconcerting to walk through the vanilla world as a fetishist, sexual fetishes are only a problem—a pathology—if they interfere with one’s ability to participate in healthy relationships or conduct the day-to-day necessities of one’s life. And we can find satisfaction through fantasizing, online forums, and, yes, porn. In fact, “porn” for many common fetishes is rampant on YouTube and even Instagram and other social mainstream media: after all, if your fetish has nothing to do with genitals but instead features, for example, fully clothed people sniffing their own armpits, or smoking cigarettes, or popping balloons, the content is not categorized as erotic and channels don’t ban it.
Hardcore fetishists reading this shouldn’t give up on finding the perfect mate, either. You’d be surprised at how many freaks are out there who might share the thing you think is so weird about yourself. My own fetish—people who act proud of their big, full bellies, preferably while they’re also drunk—is uncommon and specific, and yet I have pulled up page after page of such videos on YouTube, posted by users with names like Gaining Gamer. One I especially love is by a self-described gay “Business Daddy” who eats and drinks an enormous amount on camera while explaining how beloved his belly is to the partners he hooks up with. This particular video has over one hundred thousand views and a thousand likes, with comments (by people other than me!) such as “this might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
My belief is that underlying all paraphilias is a sense that the fetishized object, action, or state is a way of communicating pure erotic energy. There’s a thing I like to do in bed with my lover: First, I touch his chest and say out loud, “This is safety.” Then I touch his genitals and say, “This is sacred.” Then I touch his belly—my fetish—and say, “This is power.” It is not unlike a religious ritual: I am naming and physically making contact with something holy and magical. That is the original meaning of a fetish, and it’s what we paraphiliacs experience, blissfully, every time we get in proximity to the object of our erotic obsession.
Reprinted with permission from Superfreaks: Kinks, Pleasure, and the Pursuit of Happiness by Arielle Greenberg.
Superfreaks is available from Amazon and Bookshop.