I visited Patrick Cox’s new erotic bakery in Soho yesterday. www.coxcookiesandcake.com
I was having afternoon cake with Julia MacMillan, founder of ToyboyWarehouse. www.toyboywarehouse.com/home
The bakery’s black and neon decor manages to be both slick and ironic at the same time. Clever, I thought. And fun.
We chose our cupcakes from the cheeky and fun array at the counter, admired the leather aprons worn by the staff, and were enjoying the atmosphere of relaxed fun in the place.
I noticed how all the customers had a smile on their face; outside, the people who stopped and admired the window display, smiled too. The gentleman next to me was enjoying the playful names of the cakes, but couldn’t choose what to have. ‘What have you got?’ he asked me. I explained that I’d chosen a lemon cupcake, because my first choice – a beefcake – was unavailable. (Patrick, honestly. How could you be out of beefcakes?)
He laughed and said with feigned shock, ‘Really…how could you lower yourself?’ He was jesting – his tone of mock shock was jokey, and his laughter and body language were friendly. But there was something else. For a split second, something else flitted across his eyes. And then there was the question itself. ‘How could you lower yourself?’ And, of course, mock humour often masks…something else.
This gentleman made me think of our attitudes to sex. We love the fun and play, but we’re also ashamed of our desire. He enjoyed the display of tempting cakes, but to hear the words, ‘I wanted a beefcake,’ was too much. It was met with the shield of derisive humour.
And thats the difference between genuine fun with sex, and a humour that debases it. How would you respond to those cheeky cakes? May I suggest a visit?