The Repentant Hat, and Other Retails of Terror

My salvation hat.

There's something to be said for having a hobby that allows every trip out to become the equivalent of a late night trip to the adult shop. The singular difference between the two is that I generally find what I'm looking for when I'm anywhere other than the adult shop. Whole Foods just brought in a new line of wooden cookware. The flat wooden spatula is quite appealing. Ikea has a chair we call "the sex bench," ideal for positions both erotic and disciplinary. In fact, we bought a spanking horse there this weekend. They seemed to think it was for holding up a draft table! Oh, Ikea. They also sold us an implement holder, primarily for canes. They had it labelled as "umbrella stand." Little did they know.

Most fruitful, though, are stores of antiques and collectibles, especially those "antique malls" that feature vendor after vendor of random pervertable items. In the past few weeks, we've amassed a whole new collection. There's the sewing table in the previous post. Last weekend, we found a chair to go with it, an old school chair, from what we can tell, complete with the piece of wood onto which it was bolted surely decades ago. We also had successful trips to Hillsboro (hi, people who visit me from Hillsboro!) and Aurora.

The mounted, and to-be-mounted, chair.

In Hillsboro, we found a fantastic antique store in an old movie theatre. If we'd had the funds, we would have bought the entire building and turned it into a playspace for local fetishists. It featured so many small rooms in an upstairs area, what once were most likely offices but are now perfect individual punishment rooms.... but I digress, as for now, they belong to individual antiques vendors. We found one vendor that surely had the same interests as us, as amidst other ass-centric items--paintings of naked cowgirls, canes, equestrian items--we found a strange riding crop, completely unused on horses but with an interesting curvature indicating other usage.

The coveted crop.

Mr. W had to take a phone-call outside while I made our purchase, so I was alone when the cashier became jealous of the crop. "Where did this come from?" she demanded. "If I'd seen it..." I thought perhaps I should offer her my backside, to make up for having purchased the crop out from under her. I very nearly did so when she asked, "Do you have horses?" I had to tell her no, hoping secretly that this lovely woman who wanted the implement didn't have horses either.

Things were a bit more obvious this past weekend when we bought a well-worn paddle from an antique store in Aurora, Oregon. Their entire small downtown is antique shops, a haven for collectors of antiquities and erotic collectors such as ourselves. In fact, to any Oregon locals, one of the shops (I'm sorry, I cannot recall it's name, but it has a sign about carrying your dog if you bring it inside) has a ridiculous amount of wooden kitchen spoon-paddles. They're not quite spoons, as they have flatter backs, thus making them a bit more useful for spanking purposes. I'm wishing I'd bought them up, but I didn't, so they're there for the taking. Anyhow, we found this light flat paddle in Aurora, and as I purchased it (for embarassment purposes, I always make the purchases), the man behind the counter laughed and said "I'm not gonna ask what that's for. Too much information." I laughed, then blushing slightly, commented, "Well, my smile gave that away." I found myself wishing I had a business card! How I've advanced in just a few weeks. I now want to tell even random strangers what I get up to in my private time.

The obvious paddle.

My favorite find of this weekend, however, is a peculiar hat with a cross on it. The seller said it was an old Salvation Army hat. Mr. W and I had both tried it on, and turned each other on immensely. We both have a thing for hats--something we haven't explored yet on film, as we need the right sets, but come the day, we have a great collection for starters--often in the vein of Russian military, so...ouch. I'm already fantasizing about scenes involving this hat. For example, I imagine it being found out that I haven't done my good deed for the day. Or that I've had an unrepentant sinful thought and I'm made to repent. Either way, despite the hat's inherent absurdity, I feel wonderfully sexy in it. And just, just, a bit silly.