I, Pleatherman

So today, I was spending some time putting wash away, and figuring out something to wear to Folsom Street East tomorrow. (Yeah I'll be there.) It looks to be the return of my favorite kind of weather: H-cubed. As in, Hazy, Hot, and Humid.

So I'm thinking shorts. I have a bunch of REI shorts I like (lots of pockets), a couple of pair of Carhartt shorts, and two pair of leather shorts. One pair are really tight on me, so they usually end up getting worn under my chaps. The other pair are leather cargo shorts.

Hmmm...

Why do I not wear these more often?

I tried them on, and I remembered why. I mean, they're great. They're Mephisto leather, from Australia, so the leather is just silky smooth and soft. Great stuff.

But they're just cut so damn bad. Sort of square and shapeless. They hang a little bit longer than they should, and are sort of drapey in the leg. They just don't quite work.

But, they're shorts, they're leather, they have pockets, so the leather cargo shorts it'll be.

As I was rooting around, I ran across The Pants I've Worn Exactly Once.

Longtime readers of Singletails will remember these. I bought them years ago. I was looking through the sale racks of one of the Gay Gay Gay! clothing stores on 8th Avenue in Chelsea. And there they were. Leather jeans, lacing over the crotch, this great sort of dark dark brown color. And then I tried them on.

Wow!

They rode really low on my hips, but flared at the ankles, so I could wear boots with them and they'd still be flapping. And that great laced crotch!

And the price tag? Like $50.

Sold!

This was mere days before I was whipped by the first time. By ARt. At Elmer Odge in NYC.

Which I was terrifically anxious about. I wasn't sure if I could take it, since as we know, when it comes to pain, I draw the line at inconvenience. In the cab on the way over to Elmer Odge, I was digging out change in the pockets, and I ran across a little slip of paper. It read, "Made of 100% Man Made Materials."

Gasp!

These weren't leather jeans!

They're pleather jeans!

I'm a Pleatherman!

I'm ersatz!

This was not good for my state of mind, but I managed to talk myself down off that particular ceiling.

Anyway, that was the only time I've worn the pleathers. I've kept them around almost as a momento of the occasion. That night, up on the cross, singing my birthday song.

Taking them out again, on this beautiful hot July day, I was struck anew by them. They really do look a lot like leather.

I thought of a guy I know from Inferno, who is a vegan. And extends his veganism to not wearing anything derived from animals. And looks so fucking hot in rubber you wouldn't believe.

I tried on the pleathers.

Damn.

They ride really low on my hips, elongating my torso, and making my ass look great. I can't quite see the view from the back, but I'm pretty sure that if I saw me wearing these, without a shirt, I'd want to whip me.

Huh.

So I think sometime, not tomorrow, but sometime, I'm gonna wear'em out.

I'll be a pleatherman. Yes I will. And maybe, nobody will know.

Except, of course, you.

So if I run into you, that means I'll have to kill you.

But not to worry, I'll make the experience one of the best scenes you've ever had. Promise! And among your final thoughts before your cerebral cortex ceases operations will be, "Gosh his ass looks so great in those pants!"

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