HELEN has begged extra space to air her strong opinions of the latex and rubber garments the ladies are asked to wear. Her views – very frank as always – are very much her own and so we feel our readers are best qualified to take issue with her.. It looks like developing into quite a lively literary argument.

“After wearing a mask for several hours and lovemaking I must go to the hairdressers yet again”. This is a quote from a recent letter from one of my sex who lives in Germany which highlights another problem in wearing coverings to please HIM.

For what do you say to your hairdresser to explain why your crowning glory is looking such a mess? You can hardly casually mention you had been wearing a rubber suit with a rubber helmet and a gasmask. He would conclude you had been rehearsing for World War III; in fact after a recent performance my hairdresser took one look at my tangled mess and said “Look, if you want the Afro style just say so, but don’t try and do it yourself”.


Which leads me to fulminate on something which has always puzzled me. A woman gets her hair done, probably costing her a fair sum of money, buys a fashionable outfit, new makeup, shoes, matching bag, in order to attract Him, and having captured His attention with Her appearance, He then wants Her to change into clothing that is, in my view, unglamorous, unfashionable, and, by Her standards, unsexual, in order that He might give expression to His response to Her sexual attraction.

When I first encountered this phenomenon I had just had my hair done, was wearing a smart new outfit, plus a new perfume that the salesgirl advised me was one that even had the vice squad worried. Yet a few hours later – deep in rural England – I was persuaded into a rubber suit, high rubber boots – two sizes too large – an SBR coat three sizes too large, and an unshapely sou’wester. Mind you, the weather was conducive to the attire and the end results were well worth it even though the hairdo was ruined, as was my makeup, and the perfume had given up trying to compete against the pervasive odour of rubber.

The outfit worn on the occasion I am referring to can be seen here and back in Atomage 5 (p. 42/45) when I preferred anonymity – now, I realise, because I thought I looked so very drab and dull, and the outfit ugly. Yet I have had many letters about those pictures! R.D. of Scotland wrote that it, and some others in another issue, similarly clad, were among his favourite pictures of all those published in Atomage. A New Zealand reader remarked of two pictures of me in my all rubber outfits (Atomage 20) that I looked “good enough to eat”. (Grateful for the compliment, but he would almost certainly suffer severe, probably fatal, food poisoning.)

So I asked myself – as I am sure many, many women have done before me, and will do after me – why bother to dress up and make up, when all one has to do to excite His interest is to pull on a pair of outsize rubber trousers, high rubber boots, sou’wester, and an SBR coat designed to a pattern used for women in the First World War, when this sort of protective material first became popular for my sex.


If I had worn that outfit in a city – and what sane thinking woman would – I would have begun the day by feeling ugly. The mood would have been conditioned by the clothes I was wearing. I would have had the greatest difficulty in expressing my natural feelings if I had greeted Him dressed like that, irrespective of time or place and, in the end, neither of us would have had the complete satisfaction we so enjoy.

Men tend to forget – if they ever knew – that women depend heavily on the mental and visual aspects of love and loving. Women cannot be turned on by a pair of rubber boots or a dreary looking mackintosh, not even, I believe, the female rubber lovers.

To put it crudely but more simply, my caftans, flowing gowns and my perfumes might not stimulate Him in the same way as rubber suits and boots, but my arousal is conditional on mood and feelings that stem directly from the relaxed confidence given me by my clothes and my grooming. It does not come from the confidence of total protection from wind, water and weather.

I believe that many of the male readers who complain their wives will only rarely wear rubber to please them have forgotten (or don’t know, or care) that women have to be aroused, stimulated, indulged if the rather clumsy business is to be mutually satisfying. I defy anyone to disagree that to an onlooker the sex act must be hilariously funny, unless, of course, one is a voyeur. Some of the positions are utterly ludicrous anyway, although they should be completely enjoyable for the participants.

So announcing, without any preamble, that she should “slip into her latex suit” is only calculated to work with someone with whom you have enjoyed many years of a very close relationship to the point where the mention of `latex suit’ or `boots’ is a sexual trigger mechanism. As T.R. says in his letter to me published here “there has got to be first a close affinity”, but how, I must ask, does one cultivate an affinity by insisting on totally unsuitable, incompatible attire?

Men are selfish and most of them forget, or choose to ignore, the fact that love play is essential. Women are not sex dolls purchased with the marriage lines – they need to be aroused. Someone once said to me that women should be like food – take a long time to heat up, and a long time to cool off. So a little trouble and a measure of consideration will bring its just rewards!

If I am to wear the heavier, uglier rubber then I first want to wear something that is sexy to me, within my terms. Or else the rubber garments should be made to feminine patterns to suit the feminine form and, above everything, they must fit me.

I don’t think I am different from so many of my own sex (who I am sure will quickly write and tell me if they disagree) when I say that I have to want Him before I get into a conventional rubber outfit. A charming lady who lives in the Middle East writes: “I don’t particularly enjoy wearing rubber because it is so uncomfortable, but I know it pleases my husband very much and I feel happy wearing it for him. I think also most women who wear it do so only to please their men”.


It would be so very different if the Dressing for Pleasure clothes were designed for women by women rather than by men. Yes, I like this masculine concept of being protected from the elements (particularly with the British climate) but, please, cannot you protect us in a more glamorous fashion? The SBR and most other rubber clothing at the present time is, for the most part, badly made, badly cut, the materials dull and drab, and the styling and workmanship unimaginative and slipshod.

Why can’t I get an SBR coat with some real imaginative styling? Why can I find only the military trench coat and its variations, and even then nothing in a size 12? What I want is something I can wear in town and in the country? Why not an SBR coat with a swing back, or a loose back with a deep inverted pleat from a yoke, and with full loose raglan sleeves and deep turned back cuff, the coat to be lined with a beautiful scarlet quilted lining, or a rich emerald green satin – or even velvet? Instead of those ghastly shapeless sou’westers what about a smart peaked cap? I also want long, lightweight rubber boots that fit my feet and don’t clump at every step. If I could find ‘style’ I would wear SBR anywhere – and by that I mean in Bond Street or the bedroom; for I recognise, and greatly appreciate, the practical qualities outdoors of these protective materials. Stylish rubber would also save having to undress and dress at the psychological moment, and I would feel great. If all this can be done in leather and tweed and wool and even ‘shower-proof’ cotton, then why not SBR?


True, I now have a soft latex caftan in which I feel really elegant (see A21) and I now wear this frequently in the house with my vinyl thigh boots with considerable comfort, a lot of pleasure – and considerable effect. It avoids those zips on the tight fitting latex suits that are yet another dislike of mine, and it moves, and opens, and lifts with a gentle, seductive swish! It is sexy and it is comfortable.

Indeed my latex caftan is a very practical garment all round. I cannot help but wonder why so many women wear ugly frayed dirty jeans, and a shrunken or badly stretched old sweater around the house when they could wear a long, glamorous rubber caftan which can be sponged down, looks great, and turns the man of the house on when he comes in?

There are not, alas, many garments like my Weather Vain caftan. In SBR there is nothing at present that I have seen – and I have studied the catalogues and looked in the shops – that I would want to wear to please me. I want something as smart and chic as the-marvellous Atomage raincoat made ten years ago in that heavy, shiny vinyl, inexplicably no longer obtainable from the makers because of that paradoxical marketing excuse “there is no demand for it”. That coat is completely waterproof, and with its three inch deep belt, wide buckle, and side slits looks really smart in town and country. The same – and more – can be said of my cloak made of the same material. Why not SBR cloaks? But lined, circular ones, not the skimpy garments I have been that will hardly meet to zip up.

Best SBR I have seen recently was in A21, page 60 but even that is not available in my size – or any size at the present time.

My devotion to leather (so very well known) is as much to the styles as to the material and I am glad to say, when worn with smart boots, I feel the way I should in order to inspire Him. But since He – and so many other readers – demand SBR and rubber as protective clothing, we ladies need urgent support from the manufacturers. I am hoping to find that somewhere there is a craftsman who can make outfits that do not have uneven hems, slipped stitches and loose fastenings, a little more advanced in style than 1918 – something, I emphasise again, with some cut and elegance. I appeal to all male readers: if you want us to appear in public with you in the protective garments of your choice, then make an effort to find styles that will achieve this objective.


I am convinced that most of my sex are eager to wear and do things that will turn Him on. The difficulty is matching our ‘turn ons’ with His ‘turn ons.’ Where he insists it is a material, why can’t we choose the style? Is it possible to have compromise in the area of male psychology that seems to operate within very defined limits? I adore cloaks and would like to be made love to wearing only a long cloak and thigh boots; but what if He only likes cat suits? So what do we do? Wear both? What about the cost?

I like loose things. He (and most men with the Dressing for Pleasure interest) seems to like tight garments. To me black stockings, black french knickers and patent, shiny boots are very sexy. Fortunately, He also thinks so too. But many couples I have talked to – and not just in Atomage circles – seem to have difficulty in reconciling their sexual `turn ons’ to each other. Sad to say it can come to the point where the women will wear something simply to please the man, often disliking it to the point of constant irritation that then leads to the problems mentioned by many male readers.


Most of what I have said applies particularly to masks. Why can’t we wear over our heads masks for us – again, something feminine – and not those horrible things designed to protect human beings from gas warfare? Surely with all our manufacturing facilities something could be produced that is comfortable, looks attractive, and is sexually stimulating to both parties.

Those close fitting hoods and helmets in rubber are even more difficult to get on and to wear. Most seem to me to be designed without regard to the shape of the female skull, and, more important, our hairstyles. A reader in Cheshire very kindly loaned me a complete head and face helmet in rubber with only holes for eyes. He assured me this helmet would overcome all my prejudices. It did not!

I was all Dressed for Pleasure, even the long gloves, and then I came to this hood/helmet. Circumference of the entrance was 350 mm (14in) the measurement of my neck and not my head. Even soft rubber does not stretch that easily. The hood first jammed against my ears -appendages to the human head that the designers of helmets seem to have forgotten.

In trying to stretch it further, He managed to trap several clumps of my longer hairs to which I was attached. Still, we pressed on in the cause of art, science, literary research and – what was the other thing! Oh, yes – sex.

Now I must be honest and say that when I finally got it adjusted, a good five to seven minutes later, I did look sinister and dominant (I think those were the words He used). The problem was that my hair was painfully trapped in the rubber, my chin was being pulled back into my epiglottis and I was totally deaf. And I do like to hear Him because sometimes He manages to say nice things to me on these occasions.

The effect on Him of seeing me in this helmet was more than satisfactory but I was tense, cold, and uncomfortable. I should add here that since the mask tended to ride up, I soon became totally blind as well.

Before you write in to suggest a helmet with zip at the back, may I add that I have tried one but again it was so small and tight that the runner had the idea of making me bald. It jammed and I needed the help of scissors to get me out.

I am sure it must be possible to have a helmet that would have the same effect without causing suffering and a dramatic but frustrating end to lovemaking. Design and pattern for the women need to be very different from those for the men. Helmets are definitely not unisex and f think a lot of women are put off by men trying to make them so.

The mask I would like to wear would be the one similar to that worn by Catwoman in that ridiculous `Batman’ series that used to amuse so many on TV. It left mouth and nose free and had dramatic eye pieces.

I have been told by a correspondent that an exciting variation for lovemaking is to be totally enclosed except for the slit at the crotch – masked and hooded in such a way that you cannot see or hear anything except your own breathing. I am personally doubtful as I don’t really like to be made love to in the dark. I like to see and hear all that is going on, but then I am a very curious creature – and you can take that both ways.


I am baffled by the fashion trade who tell me leather is the thing to wear. He has been trying to buy me an expensiveand I mean expensive- leather coat, since my present one has seen six hard winters. So we trail to Bond Street, Oxford Street, and Knightsbridge – including THE shop – and we saw about four coats. A famous well-known shop in Bond Street could show me just one coat Size 12 and the less said about that the better. So where is all this leather?

Unfortunately the Atomage Workroom who have previously made all my beautiful suits is now unable to make me a leather coat so I am obliged to buy from outside. I think I have talked to a manufacturer to make me one, and if they do and if it is a success I shall certainly publish the name and address in a blaze of glory.


While on the subject of leather, I was interested to learn that the famous Atomage catsuit and Atomage bootsuit is enjoying a new popularity and the workroom is hardpressed to meet orders. This is partly due to our lovely customer who graced the cover of A20 and nearly had me put my name on the order list except as I keep telling Him, my legs just aren’t suitable.

They might have been admired supporting a piece of rococo furniture, but inside a slim fitting catsuit – the mind boggles. They serve me very well for support and for displaying my boots, but as fashion decorations I don’t regard them very highly. However, there are many women who look fantastic in them including, I understand from John, a customer who had previously refused her husband’s repeated requests to let him buy her a catsuit. She said she would look `kinky’. Now Vogue dictates leather is lovely, (albeit you can’t buy it anywhere) and it is Madam who is requesting Sir to buy her one.

One day a leather catsuit is `kinky’ the next season, after appearing in Paris, it is a `fashionable’ must. A moral in this somewhere, plus further support for my earlier arguments, I think!


The Mackintosh Society’s picnic last summer was ‘again marred by rain!’ Surely, I would have thought, the ideal conditions for their outings? Did they forget to take their mackintoshes and boots! I read, with growing wonderment, in their magazine how two members were forced to stay within their car because of the weather and two more were reported as appearing `rather bedraggled’!


I asked the reader whose pictures and letter appeared on Pages 8 and 9 of the last issue to write again since I was fascinated to find yet another of my gender whose love for rubber was a self development. (The other lady is interviewed on page 5). Her letter and some further pictures, together with other letters are on the following pages. I am hoping that ‘V’ and her consort will be the subject for one of our Intimate Interviews in a future issue.

From one who shares my initials I have had an interesting letter but with no return address so I cannot write to thank her personally. I would be interested to know if it was her own surprise or her husband’s suggestion that she should be waiting `Dressed for Pleasure’? Whatever the answer they are clearly a happily adjusted couple.

The letter from ‘Mrs. Edee’ arrived too late for me to comment here but I hope I may have some help from readers. All I can answer at the moment is with negatives to her questions, an emphatic one to the first.

I am also researching a book on ‘This Subject’ and I continue to be grateful for readers like ‘Mrs. M’ for letting me have their views. It isn’t easy for women to talk about their sex lives. Men treat the whole subject much more lightly, albeit they tend to fantasise, but to women their bedroom relationships are still a very private matter. It may surprise readers to learn that even I refuse to discuss the private side of my life with all and sundry. I am prepared to reveal some of my secrets (the tip of the iceberg) because I believe that Atomage can help readers.

My book – if I ever find the time to get it finished – may be of help to some readers, in particular my own sex. For I can testify to the truth of Mrs. M’s statement that “we women who are willing to share our husband’s ‘interests’ do have a definite advantage . . .” Results are, as she says guaranteed, but what is more important to me and, I would like to think to all intelligent women, is that you are expressing your love for him in a way that will inspire him to express his. My loud complaints in this column are not about the method but the means. I want help so as to be able to express myself more fervently and more frequently. I am told physical sex keeps you young and it keeps you healthy. I know it keeps you happy!