Dressed up desire

I just love a man in uniform. No wait, I love a man who loves me in a uniform.

For me, the greatest pleasure in lovemaking is role-playing and uniforms are the greatest turn-ons. I can’t be the only one who thinks cops hold something of a monopoly on a hot look. Why are their uniforms so sexually appealing?

For answers, I attended the largest gathering of uniforms in the city I could find: last month’s Toronto Crime Stoppers Annual Chief Of Police Dinner. I went in uniform, wearing my authentic Ontario Provincial Police shirt, a mini-skirt and five-inch stilettos.

I found that the people wearing the uniform don’t like to think about how sexy they are – or at least they don’t like to talk about it with a drag queen. Maybe that denial with all its danger and mystery is part of the appeal.

As I arrived, two officers in combat-style blue police overalls approached me. I said, “Hi.”

“Ah man, it’s a guy,” one said to his partner as they walked away in haste, setting the tone for the rest of the evening. Whereever I went, heads would at first turn, but then the men scattered.

Personally, I think they couln’t stand seeing a guy in a dress who resembled their ultimate sexual fantasy. Some of them didn’t want to get caught talking to me, for fear they would be harassed by their buddies and labelled gay themselves.

As I wandered trying to talk to people, a female officer wearing her blue police shorts, shirt, black athletic shoes, black socks and bulletproof vest asked if I needed help. I got the feeling she was probably a lesbian and I worried she might be putting herself at risk by talking to me. She answered my sexiness question anyway.

“It’s okay,” she said of her uniform. “The shorts are a little baggy. They could be tighter.”

With the help of one of the publicity folks, I hooked my first male cop. He initially lied about his name – the police lie? who knew? – but finally told me he was Don Hutchings, detective in charge of Crime Stoppers.

“Maybe it’s not the uniform so much as the actual things the men in uniform have been known to do,” Hutchings told me. “That’s maybe what attracts women, because it’s men being men.”

Hutchings introduced me to Insp Wes Ryan, in charge of the public order unit (the riot squad). He stated he would only answer questions regarding the duties of his unit. Fair enough. I believe that how good one looks reflects on his or her performance and that uniforms are important in building a team. Uniforms tells us who we belong to and sometimes who we like to sleep with. I pressed on.

“Can you tell me about the sex appeal of uniforms of your unit?”

Ryan kept looking away from me, avoiding any eye contact. He suggested I speak to the people who designed the uniforms and asked for another question with nothing to do with sex appeal.

As the evening progressed, people warmed up to me. A group of women from the Independant Insurance Brokers Of Canada told me the sex appeal of uniforms are those that fit right. And that blue is the best colour. They rejected the new black uniforms proposed by police chief Julian Fantino as too tough to be sexy. (The UPS guys in their short brown pants seem to rate highest.)

Lisa, a self-described actress and model, told me she wouldn’t jump at the chance to fuck a cop in uniform.

“I think it would be too repressive for me,” Lisa said. “Out of his uniform, it’s a possibility. In uniform it’s too intimidating for me. They scare me.”

It’s sad. When people should be recognizing the police uniform as a sign of safety and security, there is also the perception that cops dominate and intimidate. With the dinner winding down and thoughts of scary black uniforms in my head, I decided to go to the top and talk to chief Fantino. As he headed for the door, I jumped in and shook his hand.

“Nothing political,” I promised. “Why are uniforms so sex appealing?”

He laughed and turned towards his aides.

“I think it has a lot to do with image,” he said, “the professional image we like to convey. The uniform is a very significant image issue.”

“You look sharp,” I tell him.

“You don’t look bad yourself,” Fantino tells me.

And there it was again, the denial of the cop’s own sex appeal. The obsession with mine. Cops don’t want to think about it. I still do.