EDITORIAL
BLOOD PLAY: BOUNDARIES,
CONSENT, RESEARCH
Two weeks ago, Massive published its annual Sex issue, which was met with a lot of aroha. But also some desire for more education around consent. More specifically, education around the blood play kink, which was described in the Kink Masquerade feature article.
So, I reached out to Eden*, the woman who taught us about blood play in the original article. People interested in blood play are aroused by the sight, feel, release, and/or taste of blood. And while I'm not encouraging you try this kink, those who wish to should know consent is extremely important here, as it is in every sexual encounter. Eden finds the main ways for anyone to stay safe in any sexual relationship is having safe words, pre agreed boundaries, and knowing what each other’s absolute limits are.
The Wellington nurse has been participating in blood play for over a decade with her long-term boyfriend. She explains blood play is like receiving a gift. But no... Eden certainly does not get turned on when treating patients.
She acknowledges blood play as one of the more dangerous kinks, taking it very seriously. “Blood play is one of those kinks where you should never try to go beyond someone’s limits, because as intimate as it is to hold someone’s life in your hands (and vice versa), you don’t want to end that life.” She advises to only try this kink with someone you trust with your life.
She hones home the point that doing research is vital for safety as “bodies are fragile entities”. I learn that a panic alarm can be kept on you in case of injury some can even notify emergency services or your friends if you are in trouble. She suggests starting with small objects, such as a needle or butter knife, and only once you fully trust your partner should you move onto bigger objects.
After 10 years with her partner, they still talk about boundaries and revise agreements. She tells me, “Humans are ever-changing creatures and my partner and I are respectful of that and each other”. When the pair first started blood play, they had multiple meetings to outline boundaries, limits and safe words. “Consent is absolutely key, no matter what stage of a relationship you are in.” While the kink is an incredible experience for her and others, “that doesn’t mean we don’t take safety and consent seriously.”
I am lucky I get to talk to a nurse about this particular kink, and Eden seems to feel the same. “As a nurse, I’m lucky in that I already know quite a bit about the body, what is actually dangerous and what isn’t.” Her main advice from a medical perspective is always to play it safer than necessary, “Be overly safe”. I’m surprised to hear that there are apparently lots of “blood kinky medics” as Eden recommends having your first time with blood play intercourse with a medical professional.
Getting even more vulnerable with me, Eden admits that she used to be a bit reckless with the kink when she was younger, which can lead to bad situations. And I think this is an important warning. But as Eden grew older, she learnt more about her personal boundaries. Now she normally waits up to a year before actually deciding whether she wants to pursue a blood play relationship with someone.
Like Eden says, research is vital so don’t just read this article and jump into blood play. Always put safety and consent over everything.
*Name changed for anonymity
Love, Sammy.
IS CAMPUS SAFE AFTER SHOOTINGS IN PALMERSTON NORTH INCREASE?
WORDS BY ELIZABETH MOISSON A SHE/HER
CONTENT WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE
On Tuesday last week, a person was critically injured in a shooting in central Palmerston North, after police were called to reports of a fight outside the Royal Hotel.
Detective senior sergeant Dave Thompson said the "incident quickly escalated to the use of weapons, and one individual using a firearm, following an initial dispute between two groups".
Royal Hotel owner Jazz Rawiri spoke to RNZ after reviewing CCTV footage, "Out on the street he had words with a couple of other known patrons to the hotel, this soon escalated into a sparring match."
The victim was then "sliced" in the head with a machete before being shot in the head, Rawiri said.
And this is not the only shooting recently, as reports revealed two shootings within 24 hours of each other on August 4th and 5th.
Only a few days earlier on August 2nd, a Palmerston North home was shot at in broad daylight in the Roslyn area.
A spokesperson from Campus Security said they are actively patrolling campus regularly and are available to escort students and staff if required.
For example, if students or staff want to be escorted to or from their vehicles or the residential halls security’s got you.
Security was aware of current criminal activity in Palmerston North and tend to operate based on instruction from the Police.
However, the team had not received any communication from Police to suggest additional action needs to be taken at this time.
“Massey’s Campus Security Team provide advice on general safety during orientation presentations to students and in response to direct inquiries from students and staff.”
Security also encouraged students to consider their safety and wellbeing when they are off campus.
A Massey student, who wished to remain anonymous, said, “I live in a rough area in Palmerston North, which is known to be ‘dodgy’ and a place to ‘avoid’ so I am aware of the crime going on.”
The student also said that Palmerston North is usually safe, but it is best to keep updated on what is happening, and what types of dangers are out there.
PRO-PALESTINE PROTEST POSTERS REJECTED BY HALL MANAGEMENT
WORDS BY SAMMY CARTER A SHE/HER
A‘March for the children of Gaza’ poster was rejected for display at the Wellington Whanake Hall for being political, earlier this month.
However, residential assistants (RA) argued the hall’s collaboration in May with Nestle, a brand which has manufacturers in Palestine land occupied by Israel, was hypocritical.
In a groupchat leaked to Massive, the posters were first declined by a manager, “Sorry team. That won’t be approved.”
An RA responded saying “Thats not very Te Tiriti led of us.”
The next message from the RA continued, “It's just a peaceful protest against a genocide. I think its definitely worth considering since it's important that we’re not complicit on matters like these.”
Another RA noted, “I just don’t understand how we are supporting residents and their beliefs by silencing them and a peaceful protest.”
Management came back saying the institution cannot make a stance and only individuals can a reasoning consistently seen from the university.
Management said, “Working with Nestle was a business exchange and doesn’t mean we were taking a stance on a ‘political issue’.”
Romany Tasker-Poland, a Wellington student rep felt management did not have the right to reject the posters.
"There's nothing inherently inappropriate or threatening about a protest poster.”
Tasker-Poland agreed with the RA’s message that this incident was silencing students' right to peacefully protest.
She felt it was “hypocritical” and “not neutral” for the university to have a business exchange with Nestle. She felt the same way about the Massey University Foundation’s $7,105 investment Israeli Government Bonds, which Massive revealed in June.
The rep felt a blanket ban on political content in halls was the opposite of the university being neutral and encouraging free speech.
“Students are allowed to put up posters, and people recognise that doesn’t mean that that's the university’s stance, that’s just students being allowed to express their views.”
She referenced the protest chalking at the recent Manawatū Open Day on August 7th, which was left by Massey Staff to honour freedom of speech.
However, the university’s actions have varied as protest art was swiftly painted over in the Wellington Fine Arts building in June leading to student outrage.
Tasker-Poland understood having poster guidelines in case something inappropriate is displayed in halls, however, felt this clearly wasn’t the case here.
Amy Heise, executive director student experience said, “Student accommodation is home to a diverse range of students, therefore we do not approve posters of a political or partisan nature.”
Heise said the university was mindful of ensuring that a place of learning and research is safe for everyone.
Students can apply to put posters up on approved poster boards around campus, but not Massey Halls, Heise explained.
She encouraged students to notify security if they spot any concerning posters around Massey campuses.
PETITION FOR STALKING LAWS GAINS MOMENTUM AFTER WOMAN'S MURDER
WORDS BY JESSIE DAVIDSON A SHE/HER
CONTENT WARNING: STALKING, HARASSMENT, ASSAULT
After a 21-year-old was murdered by her stalker, a petition to make stalking illegal in New Zealand now has over 21,000 signatures.
In 2022, Farzana Yaqubi was found murdered eight weeks after reporting the assailant for stalking, threatening, and harassing her.
Yaqubi’s death kickstarted a petition urging the Government to make stalking a criminal offence, as it is in much of Europe, the UK, Australia, and the US.
The petition was handed to justice minister Paul Goldsmith in June this year. He tells Massive he is committed to getting a bill into the house before the year ends.
Goldsmith said, “I recognised the public concern and instructed my officials to speed things up.”
Sarah*, a stalking victim, believes current legislation fails to protect stalking victims and the justice system undermines police efforts to ensure safety.
She was allegedly stalked by a former co-worker, Ryan*, from ages 18 to 21. He would comment on her weight, and genitalia, and threatened physical harm.
After resigning to escape him, Sarah’s house and car were damaged, and Ryan regularly drove by her house.
Sarah’s TikTok, Instagram, Email, Facebook and even Spotify accounts became the target of fake accounts. “The usernames were my mobile number, house addresses, genitalia remarks with my own photos being used as profile pictures.”
It took four months before police gathered enough evidence to make an arrest. Ryan was charged with criminal harassment, but discharged without conviction.
However, Ryan was arrested again after threatening Sarah and her father.
In August 2022, Ryan was sentenced to six months of supervision for Assault and Criminal Harassment.
“Six months for over three years of suffering, pain, depression and anxiety.”
“Police did all this work to keep me safe and potential future victims for the legislation just to let him off with a slap on the wrist.”
Another victim, Tory*, hoped legislation would improve. Two years ago, Tory was allegedly coerced to sleep with a man she met on a dating app, Liam*.
“He managed to convince me it wasn’t rape and was all in my head so I kind of just pretended it never happened.”
A few days after, Tory received a call from her friend Hamish*, saying Liam turned up at his work trying to fight him and calling him jealous.
Tory ended things with Liam, but he continued calling until she blocked him. Throughout, Liam continued harassing Hamish, demanding to see Tory.
Over the next few months, Tory received dozens of anonymous calls and texts. Every time she answered, Liam was threatening her. The harassment only stopped when Tory threatened police involvement.
Though the calls stopped last summer, Tory still feels unsafe and never reported Liam, believing the police couldn’t help.
“I’m terrified every time I get a call from an unknown number.”
A police spokesperson said that while they take stalking seriously, proving it in court is challenging.
They said the nature of stalking means that what one person finds threatening might not be viewed the same by others, including law enforcement and the courts.
Police advised victims to avoid engaging with a stalker, make social media accounts private, and install home security. They also recommended informing friends, family, neighbours and co-workers about the situation for additional safety.
*Names changed for anonymity
WHERE TO GET HELP:
WOMEN’S REFUGE NATIONAL HELPLINE (CRISIS LINE): 0800 733 8443
SHAKTI 24-HOUR CRISIS LINE WITH MULTI-LINGUAL STAFF: 0800 742 584
FAMILY VIOLENCE INFORMATION LINE: 0800 456 450
AUCKLAND WOMEN’S CENTRE: 09 376 3227
AUCKLAND MASSEY STUDENT GOES TO CHINA FOR RUBIK'S CUBE COMPETITION
COULD WE EVEN CALL IT A ‘SQUARE OFF’?
WORDS BY YESENIA PINEDA A SHE/THEY
Massey University’s own Chris Mills won $300 competing at China’s GANCUBE Smartcubing on August 10th and 11th.
Speed cubing involves the solving of a Rubik’s Cube or related puzzle formations as quickly as possible.
Chris Mills, first year in Business, said after competing in countries such as Australia and Ireland, Chinese speed cubing has an all-time high.
“They’re much faster than the rest of the world, and there’s only sixteen competitors and I made my way in.”
Mills enjoyed exploring and meeting people from all over the world at overseas competitions,
“For me it’s mostly about the people like making new friends and visiting old friends.”
In preparation for these competitions, Mills approach is to not only create solutions as quickly as he can, but to also simulate the competition setting.
"Many people prepare in different ways, for me I like to do solves most of the time and learn some things months before a competition to simulate the competition.”
After watching his brother’s friend trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube when he was younger, he started to learn about speed cubing.
“I saw a video online about a competition and this was all ten years ago and after I practiced and got faster, I thought I’d give a competition a try.”
REBUILDING THE RUINS OF MY TAHA WHANAU PILLAR
WORDS BY AARIA HUNIA A SHE/HER
When Mum was diagnosed with cancer, everything my family had ever tried to teach me about hauora and the importance of looking after myself first went out the window.
The philosophy of hauora and its four dimensions no longer existed to serve me, these being: taha wairua (spiritual well-being), taha hinengaro (mental/emotional well-being), taha tinana (physical well-being) and taha whānau (family/social well-being). I no longer thought of them as walls or pillars for my health, and I no longer cared that letting even one degrade would leave my hauora as a whole to suffer.
Instead, for the next three years following Mum’s diagnosis, I pushed every pillar of hauora but taha whānau to the back of my mind, letting Mum’s health decide every choice I made.
Any resource that could go towards my hauora was shared with her in the hope that it would help keep her healthy, and her health became the foundation that my whare was based upon. To combat the cracks forming in this foundation, I went through a series of checklists of everything I thought could be done to fix her whare. I told myself, ‘If we can get her to drink more water then her kidneys will stop failing, and once her kidneys are working, she’ll be able to start her medication again, so tumour growth will slow down until she’s strong enough for surgery.’
I shrugged off most offers to leave the house for friends or sports and only went if she pushed me to or was coming with me. She had always encouraged me to focus on my taha tinana but as her physical capabilities began to fail her, I saw no reason to focus on my physical health over hers.
My emotions hinged on the state of hers. I tried to make every situation lighter and prided myself on dumb jokes that resulted in her laughter. I kept chasing that sound, even when her moments of lucidity became fewer and farther between. Every smile I managed to coax from her was a prize, something I could use to patch up the cracks forming in her hauora.
Her taha wairua had always been strong. She’d been raised Catholic and believed in feng shui to the point where she chopped off sections of our house as though they were the tumour itself. My taha wairua had always been weaker, and I’ve never believed in anything spiritual as strongly as she did. But at night I’d pray to anyone who was listening, meditate as best I could and ask the air around me to shrink the cancer down, to slow its creeping progression.
I neglected the fortification of my whare and poured every resource I had into building Mum’s hauora back up piece by piece.
So, when Mum’s health crumbled and she passed away, the walls came crashing down around me.
This wasn’t the case of just one pillar, taha whānau, coming down while the others still stood tall. This grief was destruction, bricks scattered everywhere. After three years of giving everything I could to Mum and leaving nothing for myself, it decimated my long-neglected health.
Emotionally and mentally, I was an absolute wreck. I had little to no care for myself physically. I had nothing spiritually, because what good were higher powers and energy forces if they didn’t save Mum? Her death was my destruction, and for a long while, I felt like my hauora would never be fixed again.
But amongst the wreckage, there was still some semblance of hope and love left standing.
I thought that Mum’s passing was the destruction of my taha whānau. But while it indeed left a scar I’ll carry for the rest of my life, the pillar was still there in the form of the rest of my family and friends. And it was the same for them, as they felt her loss every day but were able to find comforts and reminders of her within our family. We dragged one another up emotionally, and in my case, I was literally dragged back to physical activities. At a time when I thought I had nothing left to believe in, I found I believed in them.
We shared our time and effort and built the pillars of our hauora back up brick by brick. To a degree, we are still building all these years later. Health requires constant maintenance, and each pillar is important to your overall wellbeing. You can share burdens with others and help in any way you see fit, but you should never neglect your own needs. Each wall of the whare is necessary for you to find shelter within it.
To me, tana whanau is still my most important wall. It is the barrier I took shelter behind when the world seemed hopeless. It is the binding that holds our pillars together and what gives us the strength to build ourselves up from ruins.
WORDS BY KIRA CARRINGTON A SHE/HER
...AND IT WAS ALL A DREAM
...AND IT WAS ALL A DREAM
12 APRIL 2020
DAILY AVERAGE SCREEN
TIME: SOMETHING RIDICULOUS
The meadow feels lit up from the inside. The setting sun saturates the golden blades as a gentle breeze causes them to ripple like waves. I rock back and forth in my hammock watching the stars stream across the sky, taking in the music and the sound of people dancing...
...and my mum walks into her bedroom. I snap out of it.
"Hey, do you maybe want to go for a walk?" she says.
"Uhhh, no?"
"I'm just a bit worried about you, because you haven't left the house, or really spoken to anyone, in eight days."
Sure, I don't know what day it is, but I think I'd notice if I hadn't spoken to anyone in eight days.
I try to remember what I’ve done but it's all blank, there's just the meadow. Why can't she just leave me alone. I don't want to be here. I'm not supposed to be here. I just want to go back...
19 MAY 2024
DAILY AVERAGE SCREEN TIME: 8H 58M
I look up the definition of maladaptive daydreaming (MD) for the first time in forever. I’m researching for an interview with fellow dreamer Jess Skudder. I go through three different explainer pages and a research paper each one upsets me more. I guess the brain doesn't like being confronted with its own habits.
Harvard Medical School tells me, "Maladaptive daydreaming occurs when a person engages in prolonged bouts of daydreaming, often for hours at a time, to cope with a problem.” It says the daydreams are often so vivid and consuming, that a person may fail to do anything or be with friends and family. It also tells me that maladaptive daydreaming is “not a mental illness”. Though it sure feels like one.
MD isn't just a coping mechanism. It often requires interacting with the world just as much as not interacting with it. Happy memories, wishes, aspirations they all impact the inner world just as much as sad ones. If I experience something in the inner world, I can appreciate it more in the outer world.
Life with MD can never be boring, can never be truly sad or traumatic. Pain is a feeling I can abandon if I need to. If I don't want to be here, I won't be. I'll be in the meadow, or a city, or on top of a mountain. It's the times I do want to be here that are the hardest. It's called maladaptive for a reason.
A dreamer is in many ways a high-functioning (sometimes) addict. Dreaming isn't just a habit, it's a compulsion. It’s a constant effort to stay in my present mind and body. Most of my days are spent drifting between my outer and inner worlds, often so seamlessly I don't even know it's happening, or how much time I truly spend in either.
My average screen time is my very flawed way of tracking how much I've been gone. I celebrate when it hits below eight hours, I despair when it goes above ten.
20 MAY 2024
DAILY
AVERAGE SCREEN TIME: 8H 42M
I met with dreamer Jess in a sunny little study room, and we talk a bit about the mindfuck that is memory gaps.
Jess will just lie in bed and drift away and come back not knowing how much time has passed. She tells me it feels like “gross bed rot”. She relates to me, "I definitely had a period where I would spend all day locked in my room."
Jess says her confrontation with MD came when people started to notice her strange dreaming habits. She tells me of a time she was daydreaming as a kid during Christmas. Her brother noticed her making a face and she remembers thinking “Oh my god I need to stop doing this”.
And she did stop after that day. For years.
It is at this point I realise our experiences of MD are fundamentally different. She has more control than I ever had. There were moments where hers was as out of control as mine. But that feeling of compulsion just wasn't there for her.
"I don't really have an addictive personality," Jess says. She has this earnest and casual way of talking about MD that I have never had. She has never shied away from being a dreamer.
"It's just a type of daydreaming. Everyone has their little quirks and stuff."
I wonder if her acceptance is what allows her to have so much more control. Will I ever reach that point? Maybe someday dreaming will become an option, not an inevitability.
28 MAY 2024
DAILY AVERAGE
SCREEN TIME: 7H 20M
I’d like to apologise to my flatmates for all the pacing around I do at two in the morning.
Or at 10pm, or 5am, or right now as I’m writing this.
The Sleep Foundation said that people with MD experience strong emotions that have no connection to reality. MD dreams can be so immersive they result in physical reactions such as repetitive movements, verbalisations and facial expressions.
For me, this means pacing. I have never lived in a place without choosing a pacing space. At home it was in my mother's bedroom. I don't think she ever figured out why she would always find me there. I would pace, dance, lie down, read, cry, or stare into the mirror and talk out loud to no one.
In my flat it’s the space at the end of my bed. My flatmates have never said anything about it beyond the odd joke that they can always tell when I’m awake, and the occasional ‘hey, I’m trying to sleep’.
It’s worse when I’m reading a book or watching a movie or show I literally cannot sit through anything by myself without having to get up and pace, sometimes for hours.
Some days I feel bad about it, though not enough to stop.
5 AUGUST 2024
DAILY AVERAGE
SCREEN TIME: 8H 31M
I’ve been thinking about Mum and my daydream of the meadow recently. For all my talk of wanting to live my real life when faced with a choice to go out and live, I often choose not to.
For years MD has protected me. It’s allowed me to escape myself when the world becomes too much, taken me to a place I can be anyone and do anything. MD is more than a thing I do. It is a part of me. For the longest time it felt like the biggest part. In some moments it felt like the only part.
If I had the chance to stop I probably wouldn’t, at least not fully. It would be like losing a limb.
I’ve come to believe it’s not so much about beating it or stopping, rather just trying to balance both my worlds and have them coexist together. I can’t live without either of them.
I can’t promise that I won’t disappear for eight days again. But maybe at the end of the eight days, if someone asks me to go on a walk, I might say yes.
CONTENT WARNING: MENTION OF ASSAULT
Eat like my 19-year-old boy flatmate for a day Challenge:
THIS YEAR, I MADE THE BRAVE DECISION TO LIVE WITH A
My flattie Will’s cooking mesmerised me from the moment he moved in. Microwaved steak, eggs scrambled into Bolognese, a fried egg for every meal along with a general lack of refrigeration are a few of his specialties.
Me, however? I have dealt with food-related anxiety for as long as I can remember. I often plan my exact meal plans for the week and have realised my food scheduling has started to affect my relationships and my ability to enjoy trips or meals out.
Will's Menu
BBQ HASH BROWNS AND COFFEE (I KNOW MAISIE WILL DIE IF SHE DOESN’T EAT BEFORE HER LECTURE)
morning tea
I was in awe that Will can eat whatever he wants, whenever he wants without guilt. Although I am not 6ft 5" and follow a vegetarian diet, I knew there was something valuable in his carefree approach to eating.
To carry out our experiment we both had to photograph meals, stick to timelines provided by the other person, obey recipes, and only eat what we could, subtracting or adding to meet nutritional needs.
lunch LEFTOVER CHEESEBURGER (EMPHASIS ON THE CHEESE. ADD MORE CHEESE IF YOU’RE UNSURE)
second lunch 1 pm Treat time!
CHEEKY VENDING MACHINE TRIP, RED BULL, APPLE 2:30pm
CREAMY RIGATONI PASTA, BUTTERY ONIONS (THE RIGHT WAY TO COOK THEM) 6
second dinner LEFTOVER PASTA (THE FRIDGE IS ALREADY FULL OF FORGOTTEN FOOD CONTAINERS) , CHAMOMILE TEA
Wif you don't eat before your lecture. Thus, I'm allowing you hash browns.” I eat my hash browns with BBQ sauce and coffee in my room, listening for scuffles downstairs before I beat Will's door down for him to eat oats at 8am like I do every morning.
By 8:30am, Will is slumped over in the kitchen in defeat, surrounded by a halo of dry oats. Will is unaware that oats were meant to be cooked and consumes a comforting bowl of dry porridge and yogurt. He later says, "I was wondering why it was so dry.”
After my lecture and second coffee, I was peppy and ready for substance. Will’s burger was the most nerve-racking meal on the list. The time was ticking as I thought about two cheeses, pickles and a patty all in my burger.
I tell you this was the best lunch of my life. The brie melted into the top of the veggie patty supported by the sharp edam. The lettuce danced around the pickles and its juices soaked into the bagel bun and mayo.
Will’s lunch was not nearly as exciting. My favoured lunch did not withstand the trek to the Kelburn campus and a theatre class, and the pita exploded in his bag leaving a mush of crumbs, tuna and spinach.
Looking at Will’s photo documentation I noticed it looked rather dry. I ask, “Did you toast the Pita?” Will exclaims, “Huh? Toast?!” On reflection I should have included cooking instructions for Will as he had already suffered a devasting dry loss with the breakfast oats.
easier, a lot easier than usual. I left feeling strong and energised, whilst Will was feeble after his pita mash.
For dinner, Will usually cooks his onions in butter because “it just makes it taste better”, which made my heart start to rise especially when I saw the cream waiting to go in the sauce.
Once a fortnight, I invest in My Food Bag. But Will is not overly thrilled about herby falafel couscous, seeing as he has an apprehension towards salad in most forms.
After an hour of stretching over each other in our cramped kitchen we sit down for dinner. My creamy tomato pasta leaves me scraping the bowl and Will says he fucked hard with the salad.
As I wash the dishes, Will reflects while drying them with the tea towel. “I’m actually going to start making breakfast now, it just set my day right.”
I made Will a cup of peppermint tea to go with his sweet treat and he made me a cup of sleepy chamomile.
The menu swap was challenging. Will and I have different nutritional needs, completely different bodies, and need different amounts of food at differing times. Though, I learnt from my slightly crusty flatmate to not stress about food so much. And the next morning at 8:30am, a red-eyed Will was hunched over the air fryer, making breakfast.
MASSIVE
BIND
Chest binding can be used as a way of elevating gender dysphoria by flattening the chest. I spoke to two trans men who bind, interested in hearing their experience.
I met Willem Koller in the Massive office, nervous to have such a deep conversation with a stranger. But he walks in with a bright energy, speaking with expressive hand gestures, telling me how he first learnt to bind — using good old duct tape.
"I originally learned how to bind from watching YouTube tutorials of drag kings getting ready.” Soon after coming out as trans, he started performing as a drag king, under the name Amoeba Geezer.
But as his drag career progressed, he learnt a lot about binding from other dragsters. Duct tape is the secret behind the best drag looks holding together last-minute costumes and body padding foam, and also used for tucking. However, Willem says duct tape can be temperamental, as it doesn’t stick to the sweaty skin of a drag performer very well. He had a bad experience at the start of his drag career where one side of his chest came out. “When I first did drag, after my first show minutes after I got off stage, one popped because duct tape is just so bad at sticking to skin.”
Electrical tape was introduced to Willem by accident, after he forgot his duct tape for a performance. Another drag performer lent him some electrical tape, and he realised that many drag kings use it for binding. Willem now uses electrical tape for his drag performances because, unlike duct tape, it has better adhesive. Willem says putting on electrical tape is "the last thing I do getting ready and the first thing I take off getting out of drag”.
I assumed Willem must use electrical tape on the daily too, but upon asking he quickly says, "Oh, definitely not”. He only uses it for performances, calling it an "unsafe binding technique". He explains that electrical tape should not be used for everyday wear because it can restrict breathing.
YouTube videos are not the only source of education for Willem as his good friend Murphy Cody who he calls the “blueprint” has taught him a lot. Murphy joins Willem in our interview, jumping in to address the dangers of electrical tape binding. He asks Willem “doesn't it rip your skin to shreds?”
Willem replies, "I get scabs and blisters pretty much every time I'm in drag.”
Willem prefers wearing a binder daily because it works better for him and is less restrictive compared to frequent taping.
Murphy tells me about another binding option: K-tape (aka kinesiology tape). This is an elastic cotton tape with an acrylic adhesive which is normally used to ease pain from athletic injuries but has been adopted by the trans community for chest binding. I asked why many prefer K-tape over electrical or other types of tape. They both tell me that it is much less destructive to the skin and sticks better.
I ask if it's harder to tape if you have a bigger chest. Murphy says, "You can't really tape if you have big boobs even I am towing the line a little." While some with a smaller chest may only need 1-2 strips of tape to bind, a bigger chest may need 6 or more. Murphy explains that if you're a bigger guy, you're not going to have a flat chest, even as a cis guy, and it can look disproportionate if you have a really flat chest.
Willem makes it clear to me that “completely flat isn’t always the goal”. Many YouTube and TikTok tutorials on binding feature skinny white bodies as the models. “When that's the resource people see, that's what they expect from binding.” But this doesn’t always look proportional to everyone's bodies.
However, using lots of K-tape comes at the downfall of your bank account, with only one small roll costing $15.49 from Woolworths. Murphy says among their friends who bind, they treat K-tape like a communal resource if you've got some, share some. While there is TransTape which is a brand of tape created specifically with trans bodies in mind, it is very inaccessible in New Zealand, and costs at least double the cost of K-tape. Not to mention it is often sold out.
I left the interview with Willem and Murphy with a want to know more about the world of binding, something that is so foreign to many of us.
While making binders and transtape more accessible is the first step, having more public funding for gender affirming healthcare is the end goal.
My chair, my liberation, & my damnation
From a young age, we are taught (in one way or another) that every action has a corresponding result. Flick a switch, and you’ll turn on the lights. Touch something sharp, and you’ll cut yourself.
It’s a simple concept, but I wish people would take into consideration the results of their actions, instead of their intentions. Not every switch turns on a light, after all.
My disability has always been complicated and hard to understand. It changed constantly as I grew and my legs weakened. Even doctors were working off theories and ideas instead of definitive facts. They planted a seed of hope in the idea that if I worked hard enough for it, my legs could be stronger, and I could regain some of my lost ability to walk.
So that’s what I did. I worked my body to it's limits, aching as I drenched myself in sweat. With slow progress, I saw results I could be proud of. I was stronger and could walk a little bit longer than before. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
This wasn’t enough for everyone who was meant to be looking after me. It wasn’t enough for my Year 7 teacher.
I know what his intent was that day. I know he wanted to push me. To make me better. He heard that physical exercise would help me with my limitations, but I think he forgot that I had those limitations.
Why else would he think it was a good idea to have a kid who uses a wheelchair join their abledbodied peers in the yearly run-for-charity event?
I remember so much about that day. Remember feeling every muscle in my body scream for relief, for proper rest. The heat of the sun blaring down on me like a weight pushing me to the ground. The looks of concern and pity from my peers as I struggled, questioning why I was doing this. The words
of encouragement from the man who said this was a good idea, all while driving in my wheelchair like it was some toy.
That wheelchair, powered by electricity, was meant to be the equaliser of my life. To make up for the weaknesses of my legs, so that I may (metaphorically) stand with those around me. To be part of the collective. My liberation from my limitations. And for a long time, it was. I could suddenly keep up with my friends, not fear running out of breath while everyone else kept running like it was nothing.
But this day, that fear caught up to me. I remember finding myself alone in the shadows underneath the school, exhausted and sore, and the tears that followed as I collapsed. I remember thinking how anyone could allow this to happen to me. I remember scraping my knee on the hard concrete as I dragged myself back to class, giving myself the time to calm down before someone saw me.
The veil of liberation my chair gave me had lifted. I had not been granted liberation from limitations, just new limits to replace the old. When the chair broke occasionally, I broke with it, for the chair was not made for the life of play and freedom I craved. It was like a new, fragile limb I had to care for, lest I be left behind.
I could live with that limit. I knew better than most kids that life is filled with limits. Aspects of my life might always be more caged than other people, but at least this cage can move.
I am still human, not the wheelchair I sit in. That teacher didn’t see that.
I remember thinking that this teacher's intent was for me to grow stronger from this.
I remember falling apart. I still haven’t quite put myself back together.
When I studied in the US I dated this theatre kid, I know so bad, but let me tell you I had my reasons ;) Well after dating him for the year and going to all the theatre parties (which are insane btw, these theatre peeps be freaky) I was invited to the exclusive party at the end of the year as my boyfriend’s date. This party was special. Only theatre peeps were allowed to join or those who were close to them, and that’s because… it was an orgy.
I arrived at the house, which was called the Happiness Hotel. When you entered the house the living room has some couches and the kitchen has all the drinks, but then you head down to the basement for the real thing. My boyfriend was super excited for this party and asked if I was okay in going down and participating (it was somewhat of an open relationship). My poor first year self was nervous and a bit hesitant, but I wanted to experience it, so I said “yes”.
As we descended there was this thick cloud of warmth wafting up through the stairs and the moans follow right after. My boyfriend abandoned me within seconds to go and fool around with some girls and a guy, so I was left alone not knowing anyone. Until this huge dude came over and I got passed around a make out circle for a few minutes. After my breathless make out with like 15
people, I decided to head up and get something to drink. But then this curly haired cutie grabbed me by the waist and swooped me into his arms. I had only seen this guy on stage where he played Poseidon in the Percy Jackson musical. We started making out and things were getting hot. My shirt was gone, his pants were going down, we were panting and sweaty.
Right when things started to get really heavy, I felt something metallic in my mouth. I brushed it off thinking he bit my lip until I felt a warm liquid droplet on my hand. I broke away thinking I just drooled, and when I looked down there was a dark red circle on my hand. When I looked back up at the guy, I was shocked. He looked like he just stepped out of a Vampire Diaries episode. There was blood all over the bottom half of his face. I felt mine and realised I also had blood all over my face. We stared at each other for a moment, just shook. Then we ran upstairs to the sink to clean out selves.
Turns out he had a nosebleed. But hey maybe I have a blood kink now because that shit was so hot, had me soaking downstairs.
THIS ART COMPETITION IS FOR THE ‘ART’ ISSUE OF MASSIVE. 4 PIECES OF STUDENT ART WILL BE CHOSEN TO BE DISPLAYED IN THE PRINT MAGAZINE, AND IN AN EXHIBTION AT MEANWHILE ART GALLERY.
Q. HEY FERGIE
BABY,
MY MATES AND I ARE TRYNA MAKE THE WORD ‘JIZZ’ HAPPEN. BUT SOME PEOPLE AREN’T GETTING ONBOARD... ARE YOU?
A.
In the Ferguson ‘Fergus’ Fergie Dick-tionary, the definition of the word ‘jizz’ is ‘an action, person, or object that is incredibly cool, excellent, swag, or great’.
I appreciate the kind soldiers who are helping to make ‘jizz’ happen. I’m sure you receive many confused, shocked, even disgusted faces they don’t understand. But they will one day, my love.
If I were to break it down, ‘jizz’ does not have to mean what is actually means. Which is cum if you didn’t know. That thing I ejaculate on the hourly. It is also slang for anything that could make you... jizz.
And for those who don’t understand, here is a list of times I’ve used the word ‘jizz’...
• "This spring grass is so jizz.”
• “Your mum’s mommy milkers are so jizz.”
• “Palmerston North’s campus duck pond is so jizz the water is murky. It’s giving the Saltburn bathtub.”
It also provides so many options which the Ferguson ‘Fergus’ Fergie Dick-tionary offers. ‘Jizz’ can be extended into ‘jizzing’ or even ‘jizzable’.
• “I’m jizzing over my new gumboots.”
• “Looking in the mirror this morning, I felt so jizzable.”
I hope that explains it for you all who aren’t educated. Now go forth and conquer the world with JIZZ.
FERGUS THE RAM IS MASSEY UNIVERSITY'S LONG-TIME MASCOT. HE IS ALSO A SEX GOD, ALPHA RAM AND HORNED UP FUCKBOY.
GOT A QUESTION FOR FERGUS? GO TO MASSIVEMAGAZINE.ORG.NZ
ARIES TAURUS GEMINI
You have been doing a great job lately given the circumstances and no one has said it. You should be proud of yourself, Aries, even if you don’t get the recognition you deserve.
It’s true that slow and steady wins the race, Taurus, and you sure are winning. You’ve been working your way to something great and it’s finally going to happen this week.
You haven’t been feeling yourself lately, but this week that will change. Whether it's a new outfit, skincare routine, or hairstyle you are gonna
You aren’t afraid of conflict, which in reality means you seek out conflict. This week, you are preparing for a longawaited confrontation. Make sure you practice comebacks in the mirror first.
Someone’s planning to surprise you this week, Gemini. It's that certain someone you pissed off coming back to haunt you. Stay cautious.
What you call ‘investigating’ others would call ‘stalking’. Get out of people’s grill this week and focus on yourself. Perhaps undownload Instagram for a while.
CANCER VIRGO
Being sentimental is only You have a flare for dramatics, Leo. But this week is not the time for it. Everyone’s stressed enough without you complaining over small things. Take a backseat and stop antagonising people.
will try and make you snap. Take deep breaths.
Those ‘little treats’ you promise yourself after completing every small task are adding up fast, Virgo. Keep an eye on your spending, or it will come back around
AQUARIUS
While you’re a people-pleaser, you’ve been trying to say ‘no’ more often. And it’s working! However, someone’s going to keep pushing this week, so stand your ground and
You’re way too stressed, Pisces. You’ve been ignoring your loved ones’ warnings to take a break, and burnout is fast approaching. Take their advice and do something about it before burnout hits
WORD OF THE WEEK. HEALTH HAUORA RIDDLE.
DITCH IT!
ACROSS
3. NZ Vitamin brand (11)
6. Which Massey University campus cut Nursing this year? (8)
11. Break or a crack in a bone (8)
13. Treatment to restore, maintain, and improve mobility (13)
15. MD (11,11)
16. Fictional doctor who can speak to animals (6,8)
18. Something that soothes a sore throat (9)
19. what is K-tape short for? (11,4)
20. The experience of intense feelings of well-being and happiness (8)
21. TV show starring character Meredith Grey (5,7)
1. Te reo Māori word for health (6)
2. Lemon, honey, _________ (6)
4. What is the word ‘flu’ short for? (9)
5. IUD (12,6)
7. The four pillars of Māori health are taha wairua, taha hinengaro, taha tinana, and ___________ (4,6)
8. Treatment for acne (8)
9. NZ TV show (9,6)
10. NZ Health mascot (6,3,7)
12. Visual representation of how different foods and drinks contribute towards a balanced diet (4,7)
14. Marvel doctor (6,7)
17. Main character’s name in Inside Out (5)
AARIA HUNIA
EDITOR IN CHIEF
SAMMY CARTER
SHE/HER
TE AO MĀORI EDITOR
NGĀTI AWA, NGĀTI RANGITIHI
SHE/HER
STAFF WRITER
KIRA CARRINGTON
SHE/HER
STAFF WRITER
JESSIE DAVIDSON
SHE/HER
HEAD OF DESIGN
SUB-EDITOR
LUKA MARESCA
HE/THEY
TE AO MĀORI ILLUSTRATOR
KEELIN BELL
NATALYA NEWMAN
THEY/SHE
MANAWATŪ REPORTER
ELIZABETH MOISSON
SHE/HER
STAFF WRITER
MAISIE ARNOLD-BARRON
SHE/HER
NGĀTI MANIAPOTO, NGĀTI POROU, NGĀPUHI
HE/HIM
ŌTEHĀ REPORTER
YESENIA PINEDA
SHE/THEY
STAFF WRITER
ELI ARMSTRONG
ILLUSTRATOR
HE/THEY MASSIVE P*SSY POCKET
POCKET WOULD NOT PROVIDE PURRRNOUNS
COVER BY KEELIN BELL
COLOURING PAGE BY JESS SKUDDER CENTREFOLD BY OLIVE BARTLETT-MOWAT @CHEESIN.FM
Ruatepupuke Dials
0800 611 116
POEM BY AARIA HUNIA
I am buoyed up on the surface squinting through saline to look down down down into the depths where a house sits on the ocean bed
My eyes sting and my lungs protest but I force my body to sink towards it
Water gives way as my hands carve before they rest upon the moving wood
The movement could just be the sea’s blur but I swear some figures in it look familiar
I see my mum, a stranger, my koro shifting and shouting along the whare’s walls
Their words are lost in the current’s pull and overtaken by a rush of streaming scales
I reach blindly through the fish bodies grab whoever I can pull from the house
Then I kick past kanae and maroro and breach the surface to swim to shore
I’m ragged and wheezing as I ask “What’s wrong? What do you need?”
The carving stares back at me, silent its face sagged and weathered and still.