I finally made it to KitKat after two years in Berlin.
I was lucky to be escorted by the lovely Miss Natasha Enquist, who knows everyone in Berlin. So there was a long line at the entrance when we arrived at 1am, but we just whisked past it and in the door.
I felt completely at home immediately.
There was everything from people in latex fashion to tourists who have stripped down to their underwear to meet the dress code.
I had certainly hoped to see more high fetish fashion, especially given that Berlin Fetish Weekend is just a week away, but then again KitKat is so chill it’s hard to imagine anyone laboring over their look.
This pup is apparently a regular and artists always draw him, I was told by a friendly woman my own age!
I was so inspired by this beautiful rope suspension tableau by Alex Dermatis of 6mmjute.
He had suspended a lovely young woman who was deep in peaceful subspace and was caring for her meticulously, tipping water into her mouth, constantly checking pressure points on the rope, checking in with her and spraying her with water from a bottle.
The rope patterns were very beautiful.
I asked his permission to draw- which I would never have done at a club in the US, but things are different here- and I was so glad he said yes. While I drew I immediately felt that sense of connection and certainty and skill; I knew it would be a good drawing.
People stopped to watch, to look over my shoulder and yell “Schön!” over the music.
Lots of people do urban sketching, a few people draw in clubs, and a few people draw at sex clubs, but absolutely no-one does it like me.
Although KitKit isn’t really a sex club, either. There were a few people having various sext acts here and there, but it was 99% Berlin dance club, with really excellent Berlin dance music. This guy dancing on the bar was at least my age, but clearly healthy and energetic.
The sex club part seemed to be mostly about people being some variety of naked or fetish, and physically very casual. I got kissed on the cheek by various strangers, and women would stand next to me and fan me with their fans (a necessary Berlin club accessory, since there’s no fucking air conditioning anywhere).