Don we now our Gay apparel: — Part 3: Scally Lads, Sapphic Sportswear, & Class
"You have no idea how long I wanted to see gay chavs - it must be the ultimate taboo in modern culture. Thank you so much for a great service and show."
The final part of my three-part series about gear (for now). This is a standalone piece, but if you’re interested you can read the previous parts about Latex and Leather.
In Britain, class is less about your currently existing socio-economic status and more about what you project onto the world, and whether it suits our imagined bogeymen of the upper and working classes respectively. Your class position is simultaneously static and all-encompassing, and people are trying to work out your class position from the moment they meet you.
The French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu developed a theory of Cultural Capital, non-financial social assets which would be used to help propel social mobility beyond economic means. In this particular instance we are most concerned with Embodied Cultural Capital, internalised cultural knowledge and skills that we practice consciously and unconsciously. This is one of the primary means by which we can attempt to deduct the class status of others. Our language, our mannerisms, and the expressions of culture we prefer can be some of the most transparent outward expressions of our class.
So now that we’ve established that class = vibes for most people, we can start to look at what the Scally Lad represents in the world of fetishwear.
Naturally, my first stop was at the aptly-titled “www dot ukscallylads dot com” website. Unfortunately this domain is dead, but I was able to access the 2013 version of the site through the Wayback Machine. They proudly declare that “For less than the price of a pint a week you can get the cream of hot British chav and scally lads getting naked, hard and horny with loads of kissing, sucking, rimming and fucking action!!” and “Over 218 good quality films with an 'amateur homemade video' feel, unlike much over-produced, badly dubbed American and European porn around today!”
I hit the jackpot when I found that the site provided a very adequate definition of the term “Scally”.
For those of you who may be unfamiliar with the term "Scally", it is taken from the word "ScallyWag" and represents a subculture in the UK made up of working class lads who can be pretty nasty and even a public nuisance for the most part. These rudeboys have created their own fashion statements with brand name athletic gear and love to drink and smoke. UKScallyLads feature genuine scallies from the streets of the UK who are willing to engage in everything from solos to hardcore duos and group stuff with other horny scally boys.
These lads are propa chav: white CKs, adidas trackys, reebok classics, caps, tatts, bling, big dicks, England tops and loads of cum.
Like the leathermen of yore, gay scally culture has its roots in a decisively non-homoerotic subculutre. Like many other fashion subcultures, the brands you choose to wear can denote your financial status or social status, and sportswear is no different. A nice pair of Nike TN’s can easily run you anywhere from £150 to as much as £300 for special edition pairs.
Murray Healy, author of 1996’s Gay Skins: Class, Masculinity and Queer Appropriation, writes the following:
“There’s this conflation of working-class masculinity and authenticity. Working-class men are somehow more authentic… They’re not processed by culture, they’re untamed, like ‘real men’ are supposed to be.”
Those in the gay subculture are quick to tell you that they wear their clothes differently from your average man on the street: Tracksuit bottoms tucked into socks is a must, coordinated fits are purposeful in their nature, and the smellier your socks? The better. They are REALLY into socks. The same way that leather is associated with its smell and muskiness, “masculine” scents are a huge turn-on for many scally and sportswear enthusiasts. It’s not just about the gear you own, but living in it and exuding masculinity. If you don’t come across as being authentically masculine, good luck getting any attention!
The article “Scally Lads” by Aleks Eror (2014) served as a huge inspiration for this article. Despite being written over a decade ago, I imagine much of what Eror found in his research still holds true for today, and his explanation of what he found on the apps from those within the subculture was extremely helpful for me to understand.
Because it is role play, a great deal of congruency is needed to keep it genuine. “You take a look at a guy on Trackies, he looks good, he’s got the gear,” says Alex, “but then you take a look at where he is – a room with a nice pink carpet and flowery bed sheets. At the back of my mind I’m going, ‘Oh, his name’s actually Jonathan and he’s an accountant from Surrey’. It ruins the fantasy. You can’t be too old, either. Guys in their 40s and 50s just don’t fit the scally demographic and usually don’t understand the culture behind it, so you’ll often see them wearing the wrong gear. Oh, and fat people in sportswear? The irony is terrible…”
What may surprise you is that there are plenty of women and nonbinary people who are also very into sportswear. The feminine counterpart to the famous Adidas tracksuit is- naturally- the equally sumptuous Juicy Couture tracksuits of the 2000s. With the rise of Y2K fashion reentering the public’s imagination, it was almost fated that this was bound to happen at some point.
The London-based party series One Night, which hosts sex-positive events for women and nonbinary people, recently hosted their first event with a sportswear and scally dresscode. The phrase “sapphic sportswear” is scintillating enough on its own, and the idea of a room full of people challenging the norms of expected dress code at a sex party? I’m fanning myself as I’m writing this.
In an article for Gay Times, Miss Gold, founder of One Night, shares her experience of her working class roots and the financial pressures of a typical dress code.
While acknowledging the significance of more traditional sex party dress codes – “the fabrics [in fetishwear] carry meaning and symbolism, and we are in no way attempting to diminish the importance of these expectations in our spaces” – One Night also wants to recognise the financial pressure they can put people under. “As younger, working-class individuals, we often felt alienated by [sex party] dress codes,” she explains.
“We were unable to afford fabrics like lace, latex, or leather, and we sometimes felt embarrassed by the idea of wearing the same outfit repeatedly – although we do not believe anyone should feel ashamed of this, such pressures are harmful, but they affect us all,” Miss Gold continues. “For a long time, purchasing an outfit that could only be worn in one specific space, on top of a ticket, felt impossible. We are certain there are others who share this experience. It feels right to centre clothing that is often worn by the working class and to celebrate it. And fuck in it.”
The question of financial accessibility echoes through a lot of what I hear from others about dress codes: Yes they can be hot, and yes when you look great you look great, but if you lack the financial means it can be intensely isolating. When a ticket to an event can be anywhere between 20-40 £/€ and you’re already deciding between heating and eating, is buying a new rubber catsuit really going to be at the top of your agenda?
Besides, what if leather and latex isn’t your fetish? What then? Sportswear invites us to think beyond the traditional dress codes we’ve come to expect from parties. Nylon tracksuits rubbing against each other can be just as erotic as leather chaps, and a hell of a lot less restrictive too.