Front cover for R.F.M. Picture Book of Bondage Issue 1

Published in 1979 by R.F.M.

I found this magazine while shopping in my favorite leather store last year.  I have no idea how or why they were selling it since it was published several years before they opened.  My best guess is that my copy of this magazine is new old stock given its pristine condition and cover price.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the original 1979 cover price of $14.50 is equivalent to $44.92 at the time of this writing. For the life of me, I cannot imagine spending over $44 for a new magazine.  Such a high cover price likely explains why there are still new stock copies available over 30 years after it was published.

R.F.M. is a photo magazine in the purest sense.  The only words in the entirety of this issue are in the copyright notice. Other than that, it is devoid of articles, editorials, and captions.  It is even devoid of ads.  Instead, its pages are filled with photographs of rather unattractive men in bondage.  By unattractive, I mean that for the most part they look more like refugees from a Skynyrd concert than fetish models. (I think it is the Confederate soldier-style cap that one wears that brought Skynyrd to mind.)  While the photos are not exactly amazing, the age of this magazine and the men inside it did cause me to think about what the fetish community was like back in the 1970s.

It is curious they way the BDSM community often romanticizes the “Old Guard.”  By some recollections (invariably relayed by those far too young for these to be firsthand accounts), leather men in the past looked like Greek gods and lived by a moral code which would make the Bushido Code appear to be coddling folks. This is invariably accompanied with a lament of how much things have changed for the worse. While it is doubtless true that some leather people were very attractive and honorable people, then as now, they ran the gamut from beautiful to ugly and honorable to unscrupulous.

I never can put my finger on why some people romanticize the past.  However, I think there are a couple of interrelated reasons that explain it.  If the past is wondrous, then it holds promise that there is a way to fix the present. I also think that if one believes the past was perfect, they can believe that the present it informs is valuable and worth the effort of fixing.

It is important to understand the past.  But romanticizing it prevents us from meaningfully understanding it, because we enter a fantasy that bears little in common with reality. The past informs the present. Realizing that the past is valuable despite its flaws gives us the perspective to recognize that the present, and its flaws, are also valuable.

This is what I really loved about R.F.M.  Sure, the models are not attractive, and the scenes portrayed are not groundbreaking.  But that isn’t what matters.  What matters is that they were having fun and enjoying amazingly hot sex.

R.F.M. serves as a good reminder about what matters and what leather folks were really like.  If you have a chance to pick up a copy, I highly recommend you do so.

Tom of Finland front cover

By F. Valentine Hooven III
Published in 1993 by St. Martin’s Press

Recently I was talking to a leatherman.  I call him a leatherman not because was he dressed in leather, but because he embodied that perfect combination of humble confidence and grace. He was, in may ways, the personification of an idealized leatherman. Atop his head was an amazing leather hat which perfectly framed his countenance and vice versa.  As I complimented his hat, I mentioned that it made him look like he had stopped off the page of one of Tom of Finland’s drawings.  He responded thoughtfully, “we all look like that on the inside.”  It was a comment immense in both its beauty and insight.

If you only recently came out from under a rock and are completely unfamiliar with Tom of Finland’s work, he was, and still is, the best and most famous artist of gay erotica.  His work is known for his highly stylized depictions of flawless hyper-masculine figures such as laborers, cops, and, obviously enough, leathermen.

Hooven’s biography traces Tom of Finland’s life beginning with his childhood in rural Finland to his death. I don’t know much about the background of this book’s author other than that his name shows up as the author of a book devoted to Beefcake magazines of the 50s through 70s.  Were I more motivated, I might seek him out and find out more about him. Regardless, Hooven’s prose is reminiscent of the Weekly Reader.  In some ways that easy writing style makes the book light and easy to read.  In others, it makes the makes the book, and by extension, its subject seem a bit lightweight.

One of the book’s surprising highlights was the Tom of Finland’s service during World War II.  I never really considered Finland’s participation in the war and the war’s affect on Finland before reading the book.  While I don’t know enough about gay sexual expression during the war to accept or reject the veracity of Hooven’s descriptions of clandestine gay sexual encounters during the war, they were both plausible and compelling. The rest of the book traces Tom of Finland’s career as an artist from his work as a graphic illustrators to his transformation as a fulltime erotic artist, finally culminating in Tom of Finland’s recognition as an outstanding painter.

Though Hooven discusses Tom of Finland’s career as an advertising illustrator, a more detailed description of his advertising work would give the reader a broader picture of Tom of Finland’s artistic influences and background.  Another detail of Tom of Finland’s life that seemed to merit more discussion was his relationship with his long term partner Veli.  Despite being portrayed as a protective confidante when Tom is taken advantage of in his business dealings, Hooven depicts Veli as little more than a minor character in Tom of Finland’s life. Providing a more complete picture of who Tom’s life partner is and how he interacted with Tom would provide a greater insight into both Tom and his works.

Hooven also declines (fails?) to discuss Tom of Finland’s family.  One wonders if he were out to them and, if so, how they reacted to his sexuality.  Also, were they aware of his art and success?  If so, were they proud or ashamed? If Hooven knows, he doesn’t tell the reader.

Even with these minor omissions, Hooven’s work provides a fine insight into the life and work of Tom of Finland and anyone interested in erotic artists, BDSM history, or gay and/or leather iconography will enjoy this book.