Dressed up to the nines for work at AP

‘In practice, attempts to sort out good erotica from bad porn inevitably comes down to: What turns me on is erotica; what turns you on is pornographic.’ - Ellen Willis

At last the dismal dirge of winter has slowly made its long overdue departure – can I get an ‘Amen!’ from the peanut gallery please? Spring has finally graced Berlin’s shores, bringing with it some very much needed sun, lightening even the heaviest of hearts and casting a fair hue of possibility and change in the air.

As I shed the seven thousand layers of winter clothing and lay them to rest at the bottom of my drawer, I breathe a sigh of relief.  I feel like a reptile shedding my old skin and sunning myself in the rays of hope, with the sun not only warming me up but also recharging those run-down batteries that had corroded over the winter season.

The last time I put pen to paper, or in more modern speak, the last time I tapped the keys of my mac, I was unemployed and enveloped in a serious case of the winter blues, having to resort to waitressing for a bunch of coked-up new media douchebags, in order to pay my rent.  Thank goodness that spring not only brought with it beautiful rays of sun, but also a small employment opportunity that relieved me of my minimum wage hell and violent fantasies of shoving the restaurant manager’s iPhone up his fat arse.  Bitter ain’t beautiful folks, but when you are writing sandwich board menus in the rain with a cold, while your boss sips coffee and browses Facebook all day, that can turn a girl downright UGLY.

I have now traded my apron for the world of German ‘erotic’ publishing. Yes readers, it seems that the more I try to depart from environs of the erotica and sex industry, the more the industry just pulls me back in. After years of being squeezed into the iconic pink dress working for Agent Provocateur and selling erotic fantasies to the rich and painfully hip, a year later I am back, but now instead of the underwear, I’m promoting kinky erotic/soft porn photography books to the German masses.  Perhaps, like Neo at the beginning of The Matrix, I have not yet embraced the destiny that I am bound for; I’m on the soft porn version of the Nebuchadnezzar.

Interestingly enough, it is the small or absurd things you do in your life that pave the path for opportunities in the future. This current employment opportunity came from a chance meeting a few years back when I was dressed as a giant hotdog.  Confused? Yes I assumed you might well be, let me expand.  Three years back when I was celebrating my first year in Berlin, I decided to mark the occasion by committing to being a background dancer for my friends girl punk pop band, who were playing the same night that marked my one year anniversary in the city.  The one condition was I was to dance to a song titled ‘Hot Dog Boy’ dressed as a giant hotdog.  Not being one to shy from a challenge, and with the aid of Gin and Jaegermeister, I found myself crowd-surfing into the audience as a human hotdog.

Then last month when I dolled myself up in my best interview garb – Westwood pencil skirt, highest heels and loads of Ruby Woo lipstick – I shimmied into the job interview only to have the owner of the publishing company remark at the end of the interview:

And when I grow up, I'd like to...

‘Ah, now I remember where I know you from, didn’t you stage dive as a giant hotdog a few years back?’

Well who knew that that moment of intoxicated absurdity would lead me to an equally absurd yet wonderfully fun employment opportunity. Never underestimate first impressions!

I now fill my part time work week with promoting books such as Nylon Girls or scouting for hemp fields around Berlin to shoot the next installation of Naked Girls Smoking Weed.  There is also something quite satisfying about my developing email friendship with the CEO of Alt Porn in the States, proof-reading badly written Swedish erotic thrillers, as well as the challenges of trying the find the cheapest trampoline rentals for film shoots.

I recently came across my old year book where I was aged twelve,  looking at pictures of myself at a time when I was a terribly shy tomboy who only wore tracksuits, baseball caps and Nike Kicks. It made me think about that scene from Annie Hall, where Woody Allen revisits his classmates  in elementary school and asks their eight year old selves what their adult selves grew up to be.  One cute kid is a heroine addict, another sweet little girl announces she’s into leather. At the time I wanted to be a tennis player. Who would have thought that the scrawny little twelve year old who liked to climb trees, would at 31 be ordering 3D glasses en bulk from China to accompany the title The History of German Porn. Go figure.

‘Hi I’m Bassma, I now promote and purvey soft porn in Berlin’