At what point does passion-red lacey lingerie become kinky? Is it just inherent in the item? Or, maybe when it’s crotchless and worn with stilettos? How about when it’s crotchless and worn with stilettos by a man?

Maybe none of those things is kinky to you. We all have a different idea of what “kinky” actually is.

So, what’s with the whole “us versus them” dichotomy that’s implied when we talk about “the lifestyle” and “the vanillas” (who don’t share that lifestyle)? It’s lazy thinking that is flawed on so many levels.

ARE WE SURE VANILLA IS EVEN A FLAVOUR?

For a start, the mythical “vanilla” might not even exist. It’s true that not everyone shares our own personal kinks, and we can scoff in private all we want about how someone considers a rabbit vibrator kinky. But, if someone considers something to be a bit naughty and transgressive then I’ll argue that if it’s kinky to them then it is kinky.

It’s the same standard we apply to people who identify with a certain role or sub-community. If you consider yourself submissive then you’re submissive and it’s not for anyone else to apply some kind of grading standard to that and tell you that you are or aren’t.

So, unless we’re sure we know the deepest darkest heart of everyone we meet, labelling them “vanilla” is a strange thing to do. We have no idea what they get up to in private, and even if we did, who are we to label it?

LIVING LA VIDA LOCA

I’m not going to argue that there is no such thing as “the lifestyle”. It’s a term that gets misused to create some sweeping generalisations, and it seldom contains truth when it’s used on a wide scale (where it is meant to encompass all of us). It works much better when it’s used on a smaller scale, so it’s much easier to understand when it is “my lifestyle” or “our lifestyle” than “the lifestyle”.

Mostly it’s used as a synonym of “community” (which is also a troubled term), and when we use it what we are talking about is ourselves and the people we know. Perhaps it also includes a bit of our abstract knowledge.

I think we all understand that we don’t actually share a lifestyle. No doubt mine looks a lot different to yours. So, really we’re just talking about people who are kinky and who meet some kind of criteria of openness (that we create in our head) that qualifies them as being “in the lifestyle”. If someone asked you to explain what that means, you probably couldn’t.

CLASH OF THE (LIFESTYLE) TITANS

We’re not really sure who “the vanillas” are, and we’re not really sure what “the lifestyle” is, but time and time again you’ll hear people forming the dichotomy because it gives us a sense of comradery and bonding. For many of us, that sense of community is a welcome byproduct of our interest in kink. Of course it is. We’re wired to enjoy being part of a group. That’s why golfers hang out with golfers and anglers enjoy getting together to talk about the one that got away.

Shared interests are really all we need to find common ground and have a good time, but there’s a saying in politics that “nothing bonds a nation like a common enemy” and, unfortunately, that often applies to groups smaller than nations too. The cool-kid clique thinks the nerd-group’s clothing is lame. The nerds think the jocks are dumb. The jocks think they possess some secret ingredient that makes them special.

And that’s how wars start.

It’s very likely that kink exists in some kind of spectrum. Perhaps it’s similar to Kinsey’s bell-curve for sexuality. Until there’s some research into it, who knows? It wouldn’t be simple research, because we’re a diverse bunch of people.

But, somewhere in that spectrum is the person who thinks lighting a scented candle and slipping into some passion-red lingerie is kinky. Maybe it’s a vanilla-scented candle. Who are we to judge?

Feature image: Detail of artwork by Eduardo Mata Icaza