Exxxotica 2011
Ride 'em, cowboy
No related
As the “largest event in the U.S.A. dedicated to love and sex,” Exxxotica should probably be a bigger deal than it is. Over the weekend, it drew more than 26,500 people, with all of them forking over anywhere from $35 for one-day attendance to $150-odd for a three-day VIP pass. And yet, the convention is not a big deal. In fact, it kind of sucks.
Right up front, here’s the disclaimer: The A.V. Club in general, and this writer in particular, have nothing against sex, porn, or anyone who enjoys sex or porn. We’re huge fans of the Savage Lovecast, and we think whatever people want to do with their spare time or to make a living is totally fine with us. Into scat play? Hey, man, whatever floats your boat.
That being said, Exxxotica was pretty gross. It doesn’t help that the event takes place at the Stephens Convention Center in Rosemont—or, rather, in part of the Stephens Convention Center that’s been curtained off with a ton of black and pink fabric. It also doesn’t help that anyone who parked in the garage had to walk past a very large Herbalife convention to get to all of the best dirty stuff. Talk about killing the mood. Furthermore, it doesn’t really help that, honestly, Exxxotica is not a very big convention. When entering, we were lectured on not taking off our wristbands, in case we wanted to come back the next day. But after about 30 minutes of walking around, we’d seen everything there was to see, from strippers to toys to a Sassy Assy fashion show. What would be the point of coming back, or even spending hours on end there? Is everyone just hanging around, waiting for something sexy to happen?
A lot of the booths were operated by porn stars or adult film companies. Yes, Ron Jeremy was there, looking very Ron Jeremy-ish—but so were countless vaguely pretty and scantily dressed “stars,” signing autographs as videos of their performances played behind them. Attendees could pay anywhere from $10 to $40 and get a picture with said stars, generally posed somewhat provocatively. Guys would step up to a pastie-clad vixen, give her some money, look at the camera, and point at the star’s breasts while making a “whoa!” face. Repeat ad nauseum.
And therein, really, lies the problem with Exxxotica: It wasn’t actually very sexy. Obviously, there were about a million young ladies there with fantastic bodies, and people went out of their way to offer demonstrations of their massaging gloves and invite you to their swinger parties. Everyone was nice, and everyone was on the up-and-up, particularly the event’s organizers. The problem was, though, that a dirty convention center in Rosemont at 2:30 p.m. on a Saturday isn’t a particularly sexy place, especially when it’s packed full of awkward people who aren’t making a whole lot of conversation. Like porn, Exxxotica is viewer-oriented. No one talks to people at booths for more than a few seconds, and most of the “stars” don’t really get the respect they deserve from their fans. Sure, people think they’re hot and beautiful, but they’re not thought of as real people, with sore feet from high heels and skin that you’re not really supposed to touch unless you ask first. It’s a little thing, but at an event like Exxxotica, it means a lot. Throw a couple of boneheads into a room full of boners, and everything just goes a little south.
SLIDESHOW: Exxxotica 2011
For not a ton of money you could get your picture taken with two scantily clad women on an inflatable mattress.
