Latex doesn't make sense. To fit correctly it must be custom-made, it’s biodegradable and prone to ripping and even ready-to-wear suits start at $250. As a curious and nosey newbie to the scene, I had to get to the bottom of the latex fascination. I attended MIR28 to discover not just the material fabric, but the social fabric that uniquely holds this kinky queer subculture together.
Runway Rubber was the MIR28 theme and international designers showcased the newest innovations in latex design. The more subtle theme, however, was MIR, an international organization, joining the border shift in queer spaces respecting gender fluidity and prioritizing inclusion.
Last year, at the end of MIR27 it was announced that starting in 2024 the contest will be open to all gender expression— not just cisgendered men.
This change drew the most diverse cast the contest has ever seen: the first femme runner up, the first drag queen to compete, and Rodrigo “Rush” MIR28 International Rubber Ambassador, the first Latino to hold this title.
In addition to the contest, MIR hosted workshops and meetups specifically for marginalized identities, including programming for people in recovery and meetups for the those on the Ace spectrum, drones, those over 50, Rubberists of Color, and the Trans, Gender Non-Conforming, Non-Binary, and Two-Spirit community members.
As a Black queer person, and a self-proclaimed queer-culture-documentarian, I stepped into this new community space as a participant-observer. I found a tight-knit community organized around latex, but how do those who are marginalized in the material world situate themselves within the constructed reality of latex, and BDSM at large?
I spoke with MIR28 runner up, and femme, Delsi Cat. Delsi is from Melbourne, Australia and was named Ms Melbourne Latex of 2023. They’re the producer of Unicorn, a warehouse rave series for queer people who don’t fit neatly into binaries.
Delsi’s shares how went from the rave scene to finding their latex community.
“As a result of being a very feminine, AFAB person, I was labeled a slut at a young age in high school as a result of a rape, and that experience followed me throughout a lot of my life… I was drawn to latex because there was a sense of empowerment I got as someone who is a sexual assault survivor. I have pride in being able to reclaim the narratives that come with women not wearing a lot of clothing”
During the contest, I was in the audience cheering Delsi on as she unapologetically flaunted her high heels, nipple pasties and pink g-string. Although it was difficult to spot many femme presenting people in the crowd, having femininity on stage sent a message that the latex community is changing.
Selena Blackwater from Anaheim, California is the first non-binary drag queen to compete in MIR. Selena brought a tenacious spirit and a strong fashion sense to the contest.
Selena says, “I use my drag to expand the understanding of what this community is capable of on an artistic level”.
Despite being in the minority, Selena Blackwater found MIR welcoming.
“I don't think I've ever felt this welcome in a space full of latex ever. A lot of the stuff I do is in LA, and I love it with all of my heart, but I can definitely tell there is a little bit of a sense of gatekeeping [there] but not here”.
MIR felt welcoming for me too… it just took a while. I shared a similar experience to Delsi Cat.
“Walking into the foyer at MIR was the part we found the scariest. Just because it was hard to spot another woman, but I could use all the work and energy that was going into this space to increase its inclusion”
MIR was hosted at DoubleTree hotel in Skokie and the foyer was a central meeting point. Pup Pepper has attended MIR for six years, and expressed the move to the hotel as “boring” and preferred it when the previous location in Boystown where there was more access to Chicago nightlife.
Since everything was condensed to one space, I scanned the foyer the first day looking for another Black person and it took nearly an hour to spot one. This raises the question: where do people like me fit into the community that latex promises?
I anxiously awaited Saturday at noon for the POC meetup curated by MIR and hosted by Antoin and Icarus. The meetup started with about 40 of us sharing our names, pronouns, and moved on to an lively but emotional discussion on inclusivity in latex.
Afterwards in private conversation, Rush emphasized the importance of representation, “My motivation was always representation as a Latino. I’ve always been very interested in rubber but didn't see a lot of Latinos”.
Rush went on further to say “representation motivated me to travel everywhere during my year as Mr. San Francisco Rubber”.
MIR will continue to help facilitate Rush traveling across the word where he’ll inevitably raise awareness of diversity. Every year, rubberist donate money to the Sly Hands Travel Fund. These funds help the title holder travel to kink and rubber events across the world.
Structural support such as the Sly Hands Travel Fund help because latex is pretty damn expensive. When my friend invited me to perform in the opening ceremony all I owned was a latex shirt. For the performance, and even for doing interviews and photography, I succumbed to my insecurities of standing out, and bought a latex suit so I could “fit in”.
I recognize my privilege and the barriers that exist when trying to join the latex community.
Rush expressed, “globally it’s very difficult and expensive to access latex. Especially if you live in a country in Latin America. The conversion rates are never in your favor. I wasn't able to get my first piece until I moved to the United states”. Sentiments like these are strong, with the price of latex being a consistent conversation topic throughout MIR.
A highly anticipated MIR event is the gear swap hosted by the Chicago Rubber Club. People sell their gear at a self-determined, and discounted price. There’s also a strong spirit of sharing and swapping clothes and accessories throughout the weekend.
But why is latex expensive? Quick background- around 90% of latex comes from rubber plantations in Southeast Asia, where the climate resembles that of Brazil, the rubber tree’s native region. The power dynamics of latex extend beyond the BDSM community, latex production has historically relied on immigrant labor in rural communities, often under unjust contractual labor laws and low wages. These factors, combined with international shipping cost, make latex and delicate and expensive material to work with.
Despite the cost, many of us found the latex community first through an obsession for the material itself. Rush said, “I’d fallen for how sexy latex was, the way it fills your body, the smell and sound of rubber, then I discovered an amazing community.”
Latex is a broad and rather ambiguous category. This year I saw people in everything from pup hoods, gas masks, military gear, wetsuits, and motorcycle gear. Some outfits didn’t have any latex, yet somehow the fashion choices were collectively cohesive.
Selena Blackwater described latex as “an equalizer”, and I agree. In reflection, the event and community felt highly structured. People’s fashion choices balanced a delicate line of depersonalization and self-expression. The epitome of this was the first ever drone meetup, where Drone 8257 told me, “We are both unique, but we're also not. We're all just one big collector together, which it's kind of great for humanity where we can all be a part of a group together”
Latex tailoring accentuates BDSM power dynamics, signaling visual cues to the roles people occupy within the subculture. For example, I saw latex sensory deprivation hoods that only had a hole in the front of the mouth that was used for breath play and annymous face fucking. The design of the hood put the wearer into an exaggerated sexually submissive position.
As someone who identifies with symptoms of ADHD and autism, I find the visual cues from BDSM and latex helpful, much like hanky code. The symbolism coded in latex design allows queer folks to navigate the symbolic cues of sexual and relational compatibility.
Overall, I saw people embody the theme of Rubber Runway in ways that reflected their role in BDSM. As a black queer person new to the world of latex, I was welcomed with open arms and was met with nothing but positivity but at times invisibility. Regardless, the community is making structural changes to promote diversity. To end this, congratulations to all the contestants, the staff, my support system, and I encourage anyone interested to try latex.