the third sex

Anybody who takes as many photographs of naked people as I do soon develops a keen eye for anatomical differences.

Take, for example, the ladyboy bottom. Alright! I know what you are going to say! He is a right pervert who has a fetish about bums! We’ve heard him before on this blog, going on about it!

Well…okay…I admit it. But let us take this subject academically, or at least with the eye of a photographer.

There are few things more intoxicating than the sight of a ladyboy on her hands and knees, with her back arched and her smooth little bottom in the air. Taking the photograph from directly behind, the ideal picture is of bottom cheeks parted to form perfect round hemispheres with the entry point slightly open and eagerly waiting.

The point is that anatomically, this is not possible for a lot of models. The structure of their body, the curvature of the spine, the setting of the hips, the fatty content of their bottom cheeks will all work together to make this view possible or not.


Some ladyboys simply cannot arch their backs in that way, and on some the buttocks do not separate naturally to give that awesome view. Instead, you get an attractive enough view, certainly, but the cheeks of her bottom will be pressed together, and that tantalising little hole will be invisible unless you get her to pull them apart.

This peculiarity came home to me when I was taking pictures of Modelle recently. She has a perfect behind for that style of photograph, and I took far too many shots of her bum. When I had finished, she sat up and said, “Phew!” I apologised profusely, because I’m always asking during the course of a shoot if the model is comfortable and happy. And, for a while there, I had forgotten; I was so engrossed.

There are other aspects, too. Skin blemishes, especially pimples, being foremost. Rare is the model who has perfect skin on her bottom, with pimples and scaly skin being the main problem. Many is the time I have sat at the computer screen late into the night, photoshopping pimples from a ladyboy’s bottom and wondering quite what my career has come to.


I have been very lucky indeed to see some absolutely beautiful bottoms during the course of taking photographs. I think the best I have ever seen belongs to Cherie. I never tire of seeing it. Flawless skin, pale colouring, creamy smooth texture, sublimely rounded cheeks, a clearly defined cleft, a tiny little crack with just a slight tinge of pink: utter perfection. I posted a video of her a while back, and looking at it again recently, for the first time since I did the editing, I realised that I devoted half the time to panning over those lovely cheeks of hers.

Honey is another example of a sublime rear end. Firm to the touch, not a scar or tattoo or pimple in sight, with a hole that opens out when she goes onto her elbows and knees, it is a photographer’s dream. Ice is another, although I regret very much that she decided a while back to have that dragon tattoo done. Nan has a perfect, plump little bottom. Nong, intriguingly, has a bum where the entry always seems to be visible, even when she is not trying. I watch her walk past me, naked, and it winks at me.



Other girls, however, can leave me unmoved in that department. But then they usually compensate in some other way. Seldom do you find a ladyboy who doesn’t have anything at all attractive about her. And I avoid those, anyway.

My old friend Jodahunta is currently in town. He hunkered down in a hotel in a quiet little soi just off Sukhumvit, and I went to have coffee with him last Sunday morning.

We sat out on the hotel terrace, watching the world go by. Suddenly, a couple of ladyboys hove into view, walking down the street.

“Oh-oh,” said Jodahunta, shrinking behind his coffee cup. “I think I know who these two are.”

We watched. The ladyboys didn’t see us, but walked straight past and into the hotel lobby.

He told me  what had happened. He had checked into the hotel  yesterday, and that evening had gone to Nana Plaza, where he enjoyed himself in predictable style. Shortly after midnight he had set off to walk back along Sukhumvit to his hotel, when he had seen the two ladyboys sitting  at a roadside noodle stall.

Despite the debauchery of the evening, he had felt the stirrings of  interest, and stopped to talk to them.  But then he decided that any more action that evening was beyond him, so  he told them he was going back to his hotel.

“Which hotel?” they asked. He told them, and added:  “See you there tomorrow, if you like.”

It seemed they did like. They had undoubtedly spent the rest of the night prowling the streets, and now, at 10:30am, had decided to  see if Jodahunta was ready to play.

Now, with the two of them still in the lobby looking for him, he was undecided what to do. He fiddled with his coffee cup. “I’m  a bit bushed, actually,” he said. “I could do with a quiet massage and a couple of hours by the poolside.”

Then the two ladyboys emerged from the lobby, and straightaway saw us. With big, predatory smiles they made their way over and sat down. I glanced at Jodahunta. He had come to life again. All thoughts of a snooze by the hotel pool were forgotten. He began talking eagerly to our two young friends.

I made an excuse and left.

Early that evening, he called me. He was alone in his hotel room. “They drained me,” he croaked happily. “The two of them together. I never thought I could have had so much sex without bursting into flames. It was….out of this world!”

What about your massage, I asked him.

“Oh, yes!” he said. “They finished off by giving me a four-handed massage. It revived me enough to say goodbye to them.  What a pair of sweethearts!”

A ladyboy friend came round on Sunday afternoon and told me she had just started working at a bar in Nana Plaza. What happened to your university course, I asked her.
 
“I got my degree and had certificate end of last year.” She made a little flourish to illustrate the presentation of the degree certificate.
 
So why aren’t you in a daytime job?
 
“No good jobs. Economy very poor. Most jobs pay small money. Work not interesting.”
 
But you have a degree in marketing, I said. Surely that must give you a choice of the type of work?
 
“Now I marketing ME!” she said, spreading her arms out and laughing. I couldn’t help but crack up at her, because she is very funny and very bright, and I’ve known her for a long time.

Ladyboys are in fact superb at marketing themselves. They have to be. Take a fairly ordinary looking young boy and imagine what it would need to turn him into a radiant girl, a sexual beauty admired by even the most heterosexual of men. Not an easy thought, is it?

But they do it. I have watched as fairly plain looking ladyboys get themselves made up for a photoshoot, or to go onstage at a cabaret, and the transformation is quite simply awesome.

This is why ladyboys are so sought after as beauticians, hairdressers and makeup artists.

Walk through the beauty department of the Emporium, or Robinson’s, or one of the big Central department stores, and you will always see at least a couple of ladyboys working behind the counter.

Visit a tv studio or a movie set, and there will be ladyboys in the makeup departments and wardrobe.

They know exactly what is needed to transform even the most ordinary person, because they have had to do the same job on themselves and they have also spent hours practicing on their friends.

Apart from the makeup of course they have to train their voices, and to learn how to speak and move like a girl.

I have heard ladyboys with gruff voices, having made no attempt to soften their tones and raise them a pitch or so, and the effect can be off-putting. I have watched ladyboys walking just like a man, rather than adopt small and dainty steps, and it ruins the illusion they have been trying to create through dress and makeup.

I have even watched as ladyboys practice female mannerisms. I remember once watching a ladyboy friend sweeping the floor with a broom and dustpan. I noticed how, rather than take the big sweeps a man might take, she made little whisking movements to get the dust into the pan, whilst keeping her knees pressed together, bending just slightly at the knee rather than stooping, and even pursing her lips while she worked.

Very telling too is watching a ladyboy using the loo. If she is taking her role seriously, she will sit down. And most of those who I have watched using the bathroom do this: you don’t get many who stand up.

Clothing of course is another area, and although many ladyboys show a shockingly garish dress sense, there is no doubt they know how to put colours and styles together.

This makes them ideal dress designers. The rag trade in Thailand is vast. Plentiful homemade textiles and the availability of cheap imports from India and China mean that there is a lot of inexpensive material to work on, and the markets and malls are crammed with stalls and small shops selling good quality fashions at low prices.

I have known a lot of ladyboys who study fashion at college and then get themselves jobs working for a fashion designer or an outfitter, and then very often going into business for themselves.

So, being a ladyboy means more than just putting on makeup. It is a massive marketing job. Many of them deserve a doctorate.

Ding! dong! went the bell.

“Hurro! I your Guest Lerations Officer! Anything I can do help chew….”

Thank you, I said, I will call the front desk if I need anything. And I went back to unpacking my photographic gear.

Ding! dong!

“Housekeeping. I come to check your minibar.”

But I’ve only just checked in.

“Yes.”

I went back to unpacking the studio lights.

Ding! dong!

“Any laundly?”

No, I haven’t even unpacked my suitcase.

I put up the Do Not Disturb sign and carried on setting up the lights, this time in peace and quiet.

Anyone who has stayed in a four- or five-star hotel in Thailand will have been greatly impressed by the quality of the service, which is genuinely excellent, the Thais being naturally hospitable people. But it can go over the top, especially if you are looking for a bit of privacy to be doing something you shouldn’t be doing.

Like a pornographic photoshoot.

Curiously enough, pornography is illegal in Thailand. No matter that you can go to a bar in any of the red-light districts and see as many scantily-clad or naked girls, boys or ladyboys that you can handle; you can’t buy photographs of it. Not legally.

This odd double standard extends also to actually taking photographs. So when using a hotel for the shoots, it is important to keep a low profile. I have heard of too many photographers and film crews being busted, and I always maintain as discrete a presence as is possible when one is surrounded by a cloud of ladyboys.

Even so, I was surprised when checking into one of my favourite Bangkok hotels for photoshooting recently. This is a place I use regularly. I make sure that my camera gear and lights are well disguised when I check in and out, and I adopt a persona of respectability; as far as possible, anyway. The manager knows me by sight. It had always been a fond belief of mine that he just assumed I was a regular businessman visitor with a liking for ladyboys; lots of them. But no.

“You want breakfast coupon?” he asked. “Or only here to take photos?”

What could I say? What COULD I say? What could I SAY?

I’ll have the breakfast coupon, I replied, somewhat lamely.

A ladyboy friend, who works at Cascade in Nana Plaza, came in to see me yesterday evening on her way to work. How is business in Nana, with all the problems, I asked.

“Very bad,” she replied. “Only few customer, and they pay smaller money now.”

She said that a short-time payment is usually 2,000 baht, or even as high as 3,000, but what has been happening recently is that the payment has gone down to 1,500 or even less.

“Anything to make some money,” she said, sadly, adding that she was thinking of leaving Bangkok to go down to Phuket, which is less seriously affected. “But if I go Phuket I have to leave my Mum,” she said. “That not good for her, and I also not happy.”

I felt very sorry for my big-cocked friend, because she is a thoroughly nice and decent person, with good English, and just wants to earn enough money to open a small business for her and her mother.

But I’m afraid to say that things are going to get worse. I haven’t been to Patpong for the past couple of weeks, not since Songkran in fact, because Silom Road is crammed with Red Shirts who have paralysed the city’s business district. On Thursday several grenades were launched into a crowd of people up near the Dusit Thani hotel, killing at least one person and injuring 80 or so others.

One of the grenades came down through the roof of the skytrain station, and the system has been shut down. Part of the subway system has been closed. This area of the city, plus the area around the Erawan Shrine, has become impassable. The traffic has become so bad that getting across Bangkok is often better not even attempted. The mood is getting more and more ugly. Violence, either in the form of the army moving in to dispel the Red Shirts, or mass clashes between Red and Yellow Shirts, could break out at any time.

When trouble hits Thailand, the top end of the tourism market melts away but the cheaper end always holds firm. This is why the price of a short-time is falling to 1,500 baht or less. The budget travellers and the backpackers will always come here, no matter what is happening. The four- and five-star traveller will stay away.

I maintain what I said on this blog a few days ago. This is still a good time to visit Bangkok! The big hotels are empty. The entertainment girls (and boys) are anxious to take whatever they are offered. As long as you stay away from the crowds, you won’t be in any danger.

My ladyboy friend was ready to go on to Nana Plaza. She grimaced. “Traffic very, very bad,” she said. “But I have to go or they cut my salary. But no skytrain to get to Nana. Probably no customer. This very bad time.”