The new exhibit at the Museum of Sex, Kink: Erotic Geography of Desire, starts off easy—foot fetishes—and works its way up to the freakier stuff: cannibal play, rubber inflation and pushing women in eveningwear into swimming pools.
During the recent opening, the most sensational part of the kink exhibit was not hanging on a wall, but instead, skulking about the pink gallery wearing a saddle and stirrups. Unfortunately, Danny the Wonder Pony is not a permanent part of the exhibition.
Come to find out, the man who likes to give pony rides to women—and its difficult to tell if this is their fetish, or his—has many satisfied customers. Ardent satisfied customers. Aggressive satisfied customers.
“You have to ride him,” urged sex educator Barbara, who swears this bucking bronco has brought her to orgasm. She told me I’d be happy once I rode him; I’d regret it if I didn’t; it might even be life-changing.
Concerned I’d fall off, Danny replied, “I’ll give you the Sweet Sixteen ride, then.” So I slid my boots into the stirrups, mounted the saddle and gripped the reins. Afterward, back on firm ground (with a wide grin across myself) I learned he’s been giving Wonder Pony Rides for 17 years—although he’s got a day job “for insurance purposes.”
Another hands-on experience involved the furry lady: A young woman from Virginia, who wore a costume fox head and happily offered it to anyone else to try on. Lynne is a costume maker and, according to her, half her business caters to the type of people who entertain at children's hospitals, the other half are people like her: people who have sex in animal costumes.
The Kink exhibit as a whole may not really be for New Yorkers at all—or at least New Yorkers with a certain level of sexual sophistication. The whole affair came off to me as very, “That’s odd,” accompanied by a shrug. Perhaps MOS exhibits will always disappoint since sex stimulates most, if not all, of the five senses. We expect more than just looking at photos of nipple pinching and Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals to really learn about fetish. (A gay friend who accompanied assessed the exhibition as “trying to explain dildos to straight people.” However, to be fair, a sign beside life-sized rubber foot implored, “Touch me.”) Visual stimulation is fine, but there’s so substitute for climbing on the back of a man who likes to pretend he’s a pony. Now, that’s a field trip.
Museum of Sex, 233 5th Ave. (at 27th St.), 212-689-6337; Sun.-Fri. 11 a.m.-6:30 p.m.; Sat. 11 a.m.-8 p.m., $13.50-$14.50.
