I’m the King of Jubilee Jumbles

artist Nayland Blake natters on about art and other things


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Every once in a while popular culture delivers the goods, kink-wise. Last night wasn’t really one of those times, but it had potential:

On Top Chef the remaining five contestants decided that they needed to blow off steam one evening by drinking a lot. One thing lead to another and the one woman contestant left announced that she had always wanted to shave her head. Someone else had a pair of clippers and mutual daring commenced. Finally she, and one of the men that she had been semi-flirting with ended up going down to the bristle together. One other guy already had a pretty much shaved head, and the third chickened out. Then they got the bright idea to ambush the remaining guy, smug villian-designate Marcel, who has been sporting a vaguely Flock of Seagulls thatch since the series began. While one of the drunks manned a portable video camera, Cliff, the burly one pounced on the sleeping Marcel and wrestled him to the ground calling for the others to come on in and “do it”. I was rapt. Unfortunately, Marcel wriggled away, ran off to sleep in the bathroom and the remaining chefs began to sober up. Turns out that kind of unwarranted physical contact is against the rules of the show, and Cliff was bounced for his “stupidity”. The rest were roundly chastised by the judges and had their food critiqued.

Why was I paying close attention? Even though I’m now a long hair, I get very turned on by shaving scenes, especially public shaving scenes, and especially especially non consensual public shaving scenes. One of my favorite memories is seeing a WCW wrestling match where the loser, in this case Rick Flair, had to submit to having his head shaved by the winner. And then his teenage son was hauled up in front of the crowd and his head was also shaved. To me the hotness of that moment was worth having to endure endless Sting matches. I also think back fondly of the time I made out with a guy while he was using his clippers on my head.

Why this scene? The frisson of humiliation, undoubtedly. There is also something about the purity and vulnerability of a shaved head, and yet its implication of anonymity and regimentation (think military). Shaving is a kind of marking, but also caring grooming. And the result feels great both on oneself and when someone else rubs it against you.

Since Marcel has made such a trademark of his swooping hair, I was desperately hoping that he’d lose it, but it was not to be. Does this mean that I have to write Top Chef slash fiction now?


Written by naylandblake

January 18, 2007 at 12:24 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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