Sunday, September 28th, high noon. San Francisco’s SOMA District. Thousands of people dressed in their kinkiest finery march through the streets. Fearsome tourists and trendy brunch goers try to make sense of the sea of black leather clad enthusiasts, slithering their way South of Market for the annual Folsom Street Fair. Whips crack on the sidewalk in anticipation of the world’s largest celebration of BDSM, leather and fetishes. Now in its 25th year, the fair liberates the kink from out of the closet, waging war on traditional opinions about acceptable sexual behavior.

The fair also marks the end of Leather Week in San Francisco. Although Sunday is reserved for the fair, Folsom is actually a weekend-long event. Large scale clubs tie-in to the Folsom name, while satellite BDSM dungeons, themed fetish nights and sex parties occur citywide.


The day’s attendance reaches almost 400,000, the brave participants and inquisitive spectators cram the streets, filling the bars and clubs along the entirety of the 13-block street party. Men and women in every state of undress are bound, blindfolded, whipped and spanked. All, much to the amusement of the curious onlookers. As I watch the crowd jockey for an invitation to the upper floor of any of the numerous Victorians lining the block, I fondly recall an experience from a previous year. A tall, sexy guy is in an open window up above the street performing an elaborately choreographed J/O show. His excitement and enthusiasm obviously amplified as the growing crowd below cheers him on. His lascivious stance, coupled with his prime location, commands more attention than the dozen of other exhibitionists in his vicinity. The crowd, fixated upon his every move, erupts into a celebratory roar when he finally climaxes, shooting onto the sidewalk below. This year however, windows robust with action seem mostly to be dominated by spanking aficionados.


Analytically, I walk through the crowd, sizing up the current state of what is now, a San Francisco institution. While most fairgoers don traditional leather and bondage gear, a new school of amped-up revelers are styled in their own, less regulatory style of kink. They are unconcerned with hankie codes and other historic rituals of cruising. They mix leather and latex with steampunk and designer. A sculpted man in chaps and leather jock tugs at the braces attached to the Dries Van Noten pants of his partner. Another shirtless guy in 20-hole steel-capped boots feverishly searches for his Vivienne Westwood shirt, lost in a dancing frenzy as Tech House blasts from one of the three music stages. In my favorite moment of the day, I am introduced to a slightly intoxicated hot stranger in a harness who confesses to, on numerous occasions, masturbating with his Nice Collective cashmere sweater wrapped around his cock. 

As a small group moves closer to one another and I receive a warm invitation to join their circle jerk, I realize that despite the growing number of sightseers, the mainstream attendees and my lukewarm interest in the leather scene, Folsom is a really fun celebration of sexual freedom. So, with my newly discovered knowledge of cashmere kink, I head off to the after-party, stopping momentarily back home to shove a swatch of the coveted wool into my back left pocket. Or is it my right pocket?

all images ©Joe Haller

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