I’m recovering from my week in Jamaica competing in the 2012 “Miss Fetish Queen of the Universe Pageant”. That’s the best way to put it.
This week long competition was my last big project of the summer after a busy August that included a day where I shot 4 solo video scenes, two weeks of “Uranus Needs Shemales” production, a performance in Boston at Sin-O -Matic, and then Montreal Fetish Weekend to boot.
One could say that “Miss Fetish Queen…” was like the last stop in a world tour, with the time between trips or projects spent frantically preparing for the next one. The week before leaving for Jamaica I was in that “so busy I can’t even tweet or facebook update just how busy I am” mode.
I hate it when I’m in that mode, because some of my fans get it in their head that I’m inactive, or retired. And the price I paid for my Crazy August and September was the fact that I didn’t get a chance to shoot at all in September, and my August shoot (“Porn From Mars!”) was something I shoehorned in in between all the other things I had going on.
So anyway, I can now finally talk about my week and how I entered a fetish pageant as a token transsexual and walked away as Second Runner Up! (i.e third place!!). I certainly didn’t expect to win anything and even considered it a prize just to be invited to the Hedonism II resort in Jamaica for a work-vacation.
But my friends were like “No Tara, you’re in this to win it!!“.
Oh, but what a price I paid! The week was stressful, challenging, and at the end I was even questioning my own sanity and risking my life. Not to mention that I left home with 206 bones in my body, and returned with 207….
But it’s a week later, and the PTSD (yes, I’m calling it that) has faded and the good memories of an awesome week have finally come out on top!
So where to start? Well, I suppose I should start with the week before I left. Since I was technically in a competition, I kept a zipped lip on what I was doing. I didn’t want to know what the other girls were doing for their performances, or let anyone know what my concepts were. The main focus of each contestant was their big solo performance, and then there were 2 group stage shows, one of which was a “medical” fetish and the other a “uniform”. On the other nights there was to be a latex fashion show (modelling someone else’s fashions) and the opening night Q & A session where we were encouraged to wear our best, and impress the judges.
So for the longest time, I had an idea for a performance. Set to the music of a mix of “The Hogan’s Heroes theme” and “Stars and Stripes forever”, my “Aviatrix” performance was set to be ridiculously patriotic with some surprises beneath my “bomb bra”. Here’s my sketch for the outfit. This was the main thing I needed to finish before leaving.
The other big outfit I made was a new pink and white medical costume, which incorporated that recent pink loligoth wig and featured a foot long strap-on hypodermic needle, attached to chains which went to rings connected to medically-themed pasties. Again, hard to describe, but the design of the outfit pretty much explains all.
I had not been to a KinkEvents.com event since like 2006 so I had a backlog of impressive outfits I could choose from. I figured out what fit in my luggage, and on Saturday 9/22 I was on my way!
So the field of contestants was about as diverse as you could imagine. You had quite a few pro Dommes, a few of us that were latex/fetish models and performers and then some of us that were a combination of that, or none of the above. Every performance was different, and how they were going to choose a winner from all that, I have absolutely no idea.
But there was something I always wanted to do in a pageant. I always wanted to be the loose cannon. Being up against so many beautiful and talented women, I just assumed that there was no way that I was going to win. So I was like “Fuck it, I’m gonna go nuts”, smile and snap out of a tourettes fit and scream- “World peace and puppies!”
And I guess it worked, because this was no ordinary pageant. It was a fetish pageant dammit, and all bets were off. Plus, people pretty much know by now not to treat me seriously, like seriously, don’t treat me seriously… How serious can you take an event called “Miss Fetish Queen of the Universe” anyway? I mean, not just the whole planet, but the Universe!!
First night was the introduction of the contestants, and a little Q & A. The emcee asked each one of us to introduce ourselves and a bit later we were asked our question.
“Tara, You are a kinky super heroine! What’s your name?…what’s your super power?…And what are you wearing? “, he asked.
To which I replied something like this:
“Well, I would be the Lady Xanax, spreading the good of fetish to all the children of the world, making sure that the starving boys and girls all get latex catsuits and” (then all pretending that I was nervous and clamming up)” I would.. um… make sure I had plenty of henchmen to help me in my noble cause, and I’d.. um.. have a hollowed out volcano and… oh wait a minute… ”
And then I grabbed the mic from him and looked menacingly at the judges.
“Oh wait.. I’m not a superhero. I’m a super villain. By the way, judges, I’ve poisoned all your drinks, and if there isn’t a crown on my head by the end of the week, You’ll never see the antidote”.
Yeah, this was like no ordinary pageant. I was either going to win something or go to jail for threatening the judges.
Monday daytime were rehearsals for our performances, and I spent a bit of time just walking around the resort with an ipod, listening to my music and figuring out what article of clothing I was going to take off to what musical cue. It was here that I learned that the resort was built on a hill, and was very challenging to walk around in 8-inch heels with 4 inch platforms. But I had made a conscious decision to destroy my feet this week, since this was the last big event of the summer. Feet be dammed!
The solo performances were split over two nights, Monday and Tuesday night. I was scheduled to be first up on Tuesday night. I even got a chance to rehearse on the stage late Monday night, when everyone was asleep or partying. I suppose it’s a good time to mention that at the Hedonism resort, the booze flows like water, there are lots of naked people in swimming pools (and elsewhere) and plenty of debauchery. So there are tons of distractions, and even as I was in flip-flops going through the motions of my Aviatrix routine, a rather attractive half-naked guy sheepishly walks up to me and asks me if I would spank him.
“Um….. sorry… I’d love to but I’m busy, I’m really really busy”, and went back to my ipod and listening to my Hogan’s Heroes/Stars and Stripes Forever mash up for the umpteenth time.
How does one describe a performance when I’d really love to show you all? Well, until the video comes out, let’s just say “atomic bomb bra”, which comes off to reveal two battery driven propeller pasties when I dive bomb the judges, and then by the end I’m basically “riding the bomb”, naked and screaming “WAHOO!!!!” whipping a lasso around, something like the guy riding the bomb in the movie Dr Strangelove. I think. I don’t actually recall seeing the whole movie, but I think that image from it is iconic, right?
Damn.. I need those photos and video! Suffice to say, this routine will be performed somewhere else sooner or later. I’ve been thinking of taking my show on the road next year, and I can see doing this one and “Music Box”. I might not be the most skillful dancer (actually, I’m not much of a dancer), but I’ve got gadgets, dammit!
Of course, the hours before the performance were fraught with worries. With the fact that the Caribbean afternoons were hot as Hell and humid as you could imagine, would the spirit gum hold my pasties on, which were not exactly lightweight. Would other things break? Would I fall down? How was I going to fill 6 minutes with taking off my clothes when I really didn’t have that many articles of clothes to remove?
The humidity and heat broke by 7 pm, the spirit gum held, I found enough things to take off, and I didn’t fall down (not yet at least). And I made a complete fool of myself hooting and hollering. Yay. And I can’t wait to do it again.
So then Wednesday was our Medical night. We had it relatively easy this night as we were incorporated into a performance with the Hedonism Dancers, so all we had to do was some cat-walking and showboating our outfits. Compared to the night before, it was much less stressful.
Thursday we had the day off. There was an optional cruise on a boat to go snorkeling, but I wasn’t feeling quite up to it, so instead a bunch of us had taken over one pool areas with our latex clad fetish debauchery.
This debauchery included a but of overconfidence on my part, due mostly to my performance not being the total disaster that I was certain it was going to be. When you count on everything breaking and going wrong, what a surprise it is when it actually works very well. This overconfidence manifested itself in much go-go dancing on the tables in the middle of the pool table.
Now at some point I had to return back to dry land, and why get my shoes wet? Which meant that bad things happened. And of course, for some crazy reason I have photos of this, and not my performances. Why? Because there’s some kind of Icarus thing about to happen- you know- flying too close to the sun I guess…
So some explanation might be in order. I made one giant leap from the backwards “C” wall on the left side of this picture, to where I have landed here. Bam. Right down on my right foot. I slightly fell into the water and scuffed up my left leg in the process, but that pain was nothing compared to whatever I did to my right foot.
Which when subjected to x-rays about a week later, looks like this:
Of course, I didn’t know this at the time, and I was convinced/convincing myself that I just sprained my tendons. Now you may ask, why didn’t I see a doctor? Well, I kind of have a phobia. A legitimate phobia, though I don’t know if there’s a scientific name for it. Let’s just call it “Abject fear of third-world country health care“.
Partly it comes from being TS. At least in the US you can expect a certain amount of acceptance, but in a place like Jamaica all bets are off. And with just barely having health insurance in the US, and not having a lot of extra money to throw around, I was very motivated to just suck it up and wait till I get home to deal with it. Makes sense, right? Plus, I could move all my toes and someone there said that if I could do that, well, then nothing’s broken. (uh, huh..)
So Thursday evening’s parties were a bit subdued as I couldn’t tower quite so high in my heels. I was okay in flip flops, but anything where my foot was pointed down was unbearably painful. I was still having a lot of fun, but I was in a fuck-load of pain. Let’s just get this pageant over with and get home, I thought. And no doctors, no doctors. I just want to get home.
So by Friday morning I was quite literally crying and hit a low point. The hard work, pushing myself 1000%, the pain in my foot, other circumstances… were all hitting me at the same time. And it would just get worse. Somehow my week flipped itself completely around by the end.
So our last performance was another catwalk/showboating display of our uniform outfits. And at this point I’m like “fuck it”, and I just wore my Aviatrix outfit again. I didn’t care too much that I had worn it already, as it was still appropriate for the theme.
And in another one of those coincidences, the music and themes for this performance (which none of us had been told about before), were very similar to what I did in my Aviatrix performance. Like even down to the fact that we were all marching, which I have to say, when you’ve broken your foot, even when you’re wearing flip flops, the thing you really really don’t want to do is stomp your feet. Anything but that.
So either the fact that my foot was broken and I kept going helped me in the scoring, or it hurt me as I wasn’t in high heels, or.. who knows? I had no expectations to even place by this point. But I guess my Q &A, my outfits and my performance were strong overall and I was completely shocked to hear my name as the 2nd runner up! First runner up went to Maitresse Renee, whose attitude and performance certainly impressed the judges, and Winner went to Miss Dee Flouer, whose dance routine was smokin’. I’ve known Flouer for years and never saw her perform, and I gotta say, her dance skills makes me look like a complete amateur.
But I know the scoring must’ve been really tight because at no point could you look at the contestants and say “well, this person isn’t going to win, and this person is a standout”. Everybody did something very different and whatever complicated system they had for scoring… well I still can’t wrap my head around it because I thought I had bombed for surely (pun intended).
Ah what the fuck, I won something!
And then, everything unravelled. The rest of the night was an intersection of prescription pain killers, lack of nutrition, and excess of excess, though not in any amounts where I thought it would harm me, but turns out it was a nearly lethal dose. Or maybe it wasn’t that at all? Sometimes my body reacts very strangely to extreme stress and fatigue. As in my body completely shuts down. One time a few years ago for no reason at all I just fainted in a RMV and took an ambulance ride to the hospital.
I don’t think I was heading towards Heath Ledger territory, but in the next few hours, I actually came pretty close.
The problem is that I don’t remember all of it. I do remember having a lot of fun in the hot tub with my new friends, which was all wonderful, pretty much until the sun came up. A bunch of us had decided to stay up all night as around 9am the next morning we would be taking the hotel bus back to the airport (my flight was like at 2pm).
At about 6 am I walked around the empty resort (most everyone else was asleep) and took a bunch of pictures. I look at them now and I don’t even remember taking them. I have some pictures of me putting some ice on my foot, and then as all going to breakfast. What I do remember was that I was feeling completely fine at this point, just tired… not “out of it”.
..And then the next thing I know, I’m looking up at paramedics over me, and it’s clear that I’m in a speeding ambulance. To where? Exactly to where my worst fears want to take me. Yep, like it or not I’m going to a third world hospital.
As things became clearer I demanded to be taken back to the resort. Shit, I had a bus to catch, and then my flight. Fuck. I gotta get out of here now. It does not help your stress-induced collapse when your hospital visit is adding to your stress, does it?
I really was a nightmare come true. I’m not even sure what to say about it anymore because it’s not like I can ignore that it happened. I can’t laugh about it all.. yet. I had to stay an extra day in Jamaica all by myself and at great expense with changing my flights and so on and so forth.
The first couple of days when I got home were very rough. I usually get post-project depression, where I don’t know what to do after finishing a big project. I dealt with this plus what I can only describe as shame for feeling irresponsible about my own well-being and freaking everybody out. I was not in a good head space for most of the following week, and my friends had to intervene, because the experience threatened to bring me into a deep depression.
Sadly I never got the proper chance to say goodbye and exchange information with my new friends, and in turn they all left having no idea whether I was dead, alive or in a coma. Suffice to say, it was a really shitty way to end a great week, because it really was a great week and I was at the top of my form.
So seriously kids, don’t mix your potions. And don’t do it on no sleep.
Now it’s a week later and it’s just a fucked-up footnote to my trip, and a wake up call that tells me that my body just can’t take the crazy lifestyle like it used to. After a few days of being home I did get my foot checked out, and discovered that yes, I had indeed broken it.
Though the bone is broken completely in two, thankfully I don’t have to wear a cast. But I won’t be walking on heels for about a month. But I can still work as I can still pose for photos, and I’ve got lots of video to edit and other things to report on. So the next month or two will be spent mostly indoors recovering and catching up on website stuff.
I’ll also be promoting my performances and time at the pageant as better pictures trickle in from the photographers. I for one can’t wait to see them.
So I did walk away with a tiara and a latex “Fetish Princess 2012” sash!
Oops, I forgot to give the judges their antedotes for their poison. Oh well!!