It’s 1 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, and I’m in a basement bar beside St Paul’s cathedral that’s filled with more hair than a beautician’s bin after a week’s worth of back, sack and crack waxes.
To my left, a fluffy blue squirrel in red boots plays cards with a pantomime horse, while to my right an arctic wolf, a puma, a leopard in a cape and kitten wearing a corset crowd around a laptop. Red Rum is sipping Strongbow, the big cats have eschewed Tiger beer in favour of a bottle of plonk, and most of the larger-than-life animals are well on their way to becoming tiddly. I treat myself to a G&T, and toast the fact that I’ve managed to gain the trust of the London Furries – members of a famously private group of enthusiasts who normally respond to inquisitive journalists by telling them to hack up a hairball, i.e. to ‘fur cough’.
FUR AND LOATHING
The Furry Fandom, or Furries for short, are justifiably wary of the media. By definition, they’re people who ‘enjoy the concept of blending animal with human characteristics’, and celebrate related art, literature and entertainment. Many also develop their own anthropomorphic animal aliases, or ‘fursonas’, who they can dress as during role-playing sessions.
For a limited number of Furries, this interest has a sexual slant – and in the past, the press has focussed on the most extreme cases to create sensationalist stories. One notorious example, for instance, was a 2001 Vanity Fair article that featured an intense ‘plushie’ (someone who’s into plush stuffed animals) who got hard over soft toys, and not only did the dirty with them via small holes in their seams, but also extended his repertoire of doggy-style pursuits to include live Labradors and German shepherds.
It’s true that such full-on fetishists
As a consequence of bad press, role-playing forums are being spammed with aggressive taunts from bully websites like Godhatesfurries.com; fans of Thundercats and Disney’s Robin Hood are being accused of bestiality; and any group of Furries meeting to socialise are automatically presumed to be furiously doing it like they do on the Discovery Channel, in an unrestrained orgy of claws and paws. Now it’s time to tell the real story.
I want to write an accurate piece about these super furry animals; to hang out with them for a few days and report back on what Furry Fandom is really about. That means fully immersing myself in the culture by dressing as a cartoon fox – in fur a penny, in fur a pound. Unfortunately, the mascot outfit I’ve ordered from China doesn’t arrive in time for the thrice-weekly Fur Meet I’m attending in the capital, hence why I find myself enduring two train trips and a rail replacement bus ride, squeezed into a hastily-acquired faux fur hooded waistcoat designed for 3-8 year-olds and sporting a face full of Snazaroo body paint. Although I’m a fancy dress fanatic and quite at home in artful attire, on this occasion I look more like exotic roadkill than anything approaching Jimi Hendrix’s description of ‘Foxy’. So when I arrive, I’m glad to take the edge off things with another form of Hendricks and tonic.
TAILS OF THE UNEXPECTED
No Dutch courage is required when it comes to meeting and greeting my fellow Furries, however; satisfied that I’ve made an effort to look the part, and I’m not some hack determined to deviously depict them as deviants, the 100-strong group give me a welcome warmer than a sauna full of Breville toastie makers. Which, my new friend Tom – a.k.a TigerFire – informs me, is also the approximate temperature inside the oversized feline head he’s wearing.
“Some advanced fursuits have fans inside their cheeks or muzzles, but it’s still important to make sure you keep hydrated so you don’t overheat,” TigerFire advises. “You’ll sweat buckets in any case, so whatever species your fursona is, a can of Lynx is essential!”
B.O. that could K.O. a buffalo isn’t the only hazard; TigerFire’s legs are criss-crossed with scratches, the result of slips with the scalpel after donning long johns, wrapping them tightly with gaffer tape, then cutting them off to create a purr-fectly fitting body cast around which he’s building a new tiger suit, with electroluminescent wire woven into the stripes to make them gleam like embers.
Amazingly, this exceptional level of detail and craftsmanship is not unusual. An incredibly realistic wolf, dapper in a Victoriana steampunk jacket, shows me blueprints for a praying mantis outfit he’s designing that incorporates metal stilts; Michelle, a.k.a. OutKast and TigerFire’s girlfriend, has painted the paws of her “demon from space” so they glow in the dark, and is working on a mock jetpack; one of the group leaders brings up photos on his Macbook of him in a latex frog suit by Pretty Pervy, his chest resplendent with a pair of gargantuan inflatable knockers about the right size for the Jolly Green Giant’s front door. “If you’re going to play-act that you’re an animated amphibian, why not imagine you’re a different gender too?”, he reasons, going on to state that he’s recently commissioned a fully inflatable rubber slug suit (although this has been met mixed reactions from some staunchly traditional Furries who believe slick materials like latex aren’t ‘furry’ enough – I guess they’ll have to slug it out).
Kitting yourself out as a bear, beaver or bunny can really burrow into your bank balance; wannabe wolves have to squirrel away thousands of pounds before they can afford to order a custom-made suit, while creating your own critter using internet tutorials can still demand fabric costing £80 per metre. Partly for this reason, as well as personal choice, some furries wear a ‘partial’ costume – head, paws and a tail – while others just sport a fox’s brush or dog’s ears.
Shirik, a ‘draguinea’ – “an odd hybrid between a guinea pig and a dragon” – assures me that giving a convincing performance is more important than appearance anyway. “In roleplay, I’m loveable and naïve,” she explains. “I’ve gained a fair bit of popularity due to Shirik’s adorable appearance and cute squeaking noises I make rather than speaking. It's generally considered out of place to talk while wearing a suit if the jaw has no movement.” OutKast agrees: “I find a furry that can really ‘perform’ in a suit to be the most impressive. In fact, it’s creepy seeing someone in an animal costume just standing there and not interacting or playing their fursona.”
Fursonas can be developed from a favourite existing character, such as Sonic The Hedgehog, but often reflect some aspects of the Furry’s real life personality; many of the cats I speak to feel they have naturally feline qualities, while monster OutKast represents Michelle’s angry side.
While researching this feature I heard rumours about Furries who believed they were
NO HEAVY PETTING
Knowing how much they hate journalists rabbiting on about how they’re all apparently at it like rabbits, I’m worried the Furries will get touchy if I try to broach a touchy-feely topic. But I’ve noticed a lot of hugging, plus people wearing collars engraved with the names of their ‘owners’ – and when I’m handed a promotional condom for a Furry convention which reads ‘Warning! Not for use with knots’, I feel obliged to bring up the fur-bidden subject of sex.
“We know it goes on, so we try to make it safe”, answers one of the meet’s organisers, “although I think in any gathering of people who share a common interest, there are likely to be some who pair off… especially if booze is involved. I don’t think there’s much difference between people’s sexual behaviour as the evening goes on at a Furry meet than at any other party.”
If the rumours about group gropes are true, then the cats are staying convincingly quiet as mice. And as for the notion of having it off with a boiling fursuit on, the overwhelming consensus is that you’d evaporate before you got to ejaculate. OutKast volunteers that she’s worn some furry accessories in the bedroom before, justly saying that “some people like the feel and look of PVC, whereas other folk like fur”. As she explains that it was only a partial costume (hence why she wasn’t involuntarily incinerated during intercourse), it strikes me that my own antics of dressing as a bunny girl or coy kitten to make partners purr haven’t been that far off Furriness. And I’d considered them as vanilla as a 99 without the flake.
As for the Furry Fandom being a huggy culture, after a few hours I find myself actively asking people if I can embrace them, hopping about like a kid in Disneyland and loudly exclaiming how everyone is “cute as a button” (attraction to haberdashery – now that’s weird). The urge to give a giant doe-eyed doggy a bear hug is immaturely instinctive. I only go for the full suiters, though; partly because of the tactile appeal, but more because when there’s more fur between my body and theirs than there is lining a truckers’ café kettle, things feel less personal. If I can’t feel their skin, or make out the outline of their true form, I feel less awkward that I’m throwing my arms round a stranger and more able to enjoy holding and being held.
When my mascot suit finally arrives and I don it to frolic at a furry picnic in Sutton (if only I’d ordered a sheep – then I could have been in Sutton dressed as lamb…), this effect is intensified; inside the head, sound is muffled, I can’t smell anyone, and my peripheral vision is so limited that during a hug I can only see the sky. I feel cocooned and protected – both liberated and private – and I understand why some of the Furries I’ve interviewed say they feel more relaxed about expressing themselves in costume. I wonder whether some members join the Fandom to indulge in giving and receiving affection in a way that’s both physically and metaphorically cushioned, although I’m sure there are a good proportion who simply enjoy the amateur dramatics of acting in character.
Some studies suggest that the Furry Fandom has a notably high number of gay and bisexual members, a trend supported by statistics provided by Furry dating site Pounced.org. Chatting about this with OutKast, she remarks that, “the Fandom has always been open-minded, and it can be more accepted here to be gay or bi than in the ‘real world’ where people may struggle with coming out.” So does she think that bi and gay people approach the Fandom because it’s a safe environment, or that, once inside the Fandom, those who thought they were heterosexual are prompted to reconsider? “If you’re open-minded enough to be a Furry, then I guess you can be open-minded about your sexuality. In my art, I’ve drawn OutKast in some risqué situations with other female Furries before, for example. Her personality’s strong, tomboyish… maybe even butch. Perhaps the Fandom makes you feel comfortable to explore in that way.”
GET OUT CLAWS
As much as I’m yapping on about what the mutts might like to do with their nuts, the reality is that I witness little if anything of a sexual nature going on during my time with the Furries. Everyone is chummy without being overfriendly, and meets are mostly spent larking about in character – playfighting, blowing bacon- and catnip-scented bubbles sourced from pet shops, and delighting in the jaw-to-the-floor reactions of passing children during the much-anticipated walk around London. There’s a lot of computer-based chat; perhaps due to a strong Furry presence in online role-playing games, many anthro amigos enthuse as much about bytes as they do barks. And as an artist – the other main faction of the furry community – Shirik admits that “there are a lot of programming in-jokes in Furry humour and I find it hard to understand some of the geeky humour that goes on at times”.
Furries strike me as a highly creative and warmhearted bunch, and it’s a shame that so many misguided people seem to want to dock their tails and neuter their apparently harmless fun. They may be breaking away from the herd, but having seen things from the inside, I’m inclined to say that the world might be a chirpier place if a few more sheep dared dress in wolves’ clothing.
MORE WEIRD WORLD
