Skipping the BDSM bandwagon

MANILA, Philippines - Over the weekend I was researching feminist views on eroticism for an upcoming project and then came across an article saying that some feminists freaked out over the erotic novel that is Fifty Shades of Grey.

I rolled my eyes at the thought of feminists freaking out at “masa” views on bondage and decided to find a place to read the book online.

Anyone who knows me knows that anything everyone likes I immediately feel repulsed by. I will try not to jump on any bandwagon. But I will eventually get curious about what the fuss was about.

My BFF Ciara Sotto loves it. When I saw that Anne Curtis bought a whip at Agent Provocateur for her Anastasia Steele costume, I was impressed. (AP is one of my favorite lingerie stores.) Then Goldie Poblador said, I think you should read it, it’s ‘totally bondage.’”

I am by no means an expert, but I have always been obsessed with alternative lifestyles. I had to read what the masa version of bondage was. 

While I admit that it sustained my interest enough that I actually read the whole trilogy over the weekend and initially some things worked, I read the first steamy scene and felt that same annoyance that I felt when Gwen Stefani made Harajuku girls cool, or when Burlesque, the movie with Christina Aguilera, gave the world a most inaccurate view of what burlesque was. It really makes me vomit just thinking about it.

Some points:

1. Anyone who says “Laters, baby” as their tag line is a loser. So repulsive! Who says “laters”?! And how is that supposed to be hot?

2. I’ve met quite a few Christian Grey-type men with their planes and helicopters and mansions and the amount of obsession he has with Anastasia Steele is ridiculous.

3. Their conversations make me vomit. Can you please stop talking about how much you love each other? Do you not have other interests? The e-mails are fun, though.

4. Sorry to generalize but surely a Dominant would not have Coldplay on their iPod. But I do know someone personally who has Brtiney Spears on theirs and it made me laugh to see it in the book.

5. I hate the way it is written. I cannot get over the line that went something like “I put on an indie rock song as I drove.” Ugh, you’re ruining my life.

6. By the third book i just couldn’t deal with the sex scenes and skimmed passed it. Boring.

7. I like the whole “Mr. and Mrs.” thing, though. However, wouldn’t that require a woman quite confident in role-playing? I mean, who says “Mr. and Mrs.” in real life? The only person I know who did that was the late Alexis Tioseco, and it would only be the initial greeting and not the entire conversation.

8. Severe annoyance that no outfits were in any of the three books. I’m sorry, but core to BDSM is the outfits. I became interested in reading the book after seeing Anne Curtis’s amazing costume on her Instagram. And I love Anne but her costume totally misrepresented Anastasia Steele — Anastasia Steele never wore latex nor did she ever need a whip in the book.

10. “Popsicle” as a safeword? Don’t even go there.

11. That someone would have “Fifty” as a pet name or term of endearment? Ick.

12. The thought of a charm bracelet was a cute gift but a plane and ice cream? Sounds more like it was bought in Greenhills than Cartier to me! Also wouldn’t someone like Christian Grey who wanted Anastasia Steele forever have given her a Cartier Love Bracelet with diamonds instead so that she cannot take it off?

I think it’s safe to say that the woman who wrote the book has never actually been in a BDSM relationship or at least even been to just a fetish fair or some light fetish club like Torture Garden or something.  I truly love the term “kinky f***ery” though.

It’s like the Walt Disney version of bondage. Happy ending, hot prince, multiple orgasms and endless erections. Whoopie.

I finished all three in a day and half. Some parts were pure kabobohan. I guess reading it was like watching Tanging Ina or something. You don’t need to think much and it’s entertaining but there are really some parts where you have to roll your eyes at the stupidity.