Personal Notes

After a string of latex-centric, fetish-oriented posts, it’s time for a small departure. For years, I wanted to recreate in Second Life a famous painting by Édouard Manet[1]: Olympia[2], where Victorine Meurent[3] posed as a demimondaine of the time. At its first public appearance at the 1865 Paris Salon, this painting shocked the audience with the model’s confrontational, disdainful gaze, as well as several other details. Below, I’m giving you my take on Manet’s painting, and I’ll discuss the painting, its social and historical context, as well as why I relate to it and became inspired by it.

La Demimondaine
La Demimondaine
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NOTICE: The subject of this post is of an erotic, fetishistic and romantic nature. If you are not legally allowed to read such material, and / or if such readings offend you, I suggest you leave right now.

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In 2021, I started blogging on a semi-regular basis again, although it still depends heavily on my RL schedule. I also reclaimed my fetishes, of which I was once robbed, and I found myself spending practically all of my in-world time fully encased in shiny latex – and loving every moment of it. Furthermore, 2021 was the year when my best friend in SL became my Mistress.

As I’ve written before, I’m always looking for ways to further develop and enhance my latex look, so that it will reflect my desires, my deepest fantasies, and my emotions towards Mistress. Of course, my latex look is highly sexualised; very highly sexualised, in fact. It’s one way for me to express my feelings for Mistress, and She understands this very well. Also, I aim to make my look transgressive – if you want, this is a statement of sorts: I’m done caring about conservative snowflakes who run sims rated “moderate” or “adult”, or sell “adult” furniture, yet demand that their patrons adhere to a “family-friendly” dress code.

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NOTICE: The subject of this post is of an erotic, fetishistic and romantic nature. If you are not legally allowed to read such material, and / or if such readings offend you, I suggest you leave right now.

When I wrote my post “Back in Rubber” back in January, I was celebrating the success of an emotional effort that started way back in early 2020. I was trying to reclaim my desires and fetishes, from which I’d become alienated after a slow, protracted, and agonising break-up. What put the final touch in this break-up was a venomous fatal crosspost which hurt me very deeply, but, in retrospect, served as an eye-opener of sorts.

Reclaiming my desires and fetishes made me a lot more enthusiastic about them, and even about Second Life itself. So, I I’ve spent practically all my in-world time covered in my latex outfit since then and under RLV / RLVa restrictions. The only times I got out of it only were for short photoshoots, for the needs of blog posts that covered different themes and aspects of SL, and I only bothered logging in with RLV / RLVa switched off when I needed to tinker with my outfits or attend Linden Lab’s in-world user group meetings. As I travelled across the grid throughout the year, I saw that no one raised an eyebrow at my openly sexualised and utterly fetishistic appearance. In fact, it drew a fair deal of compliments. Of course, this was encouraging and gave me a much-needed confidence boost. I also had an opportunity to do a photoshoot with my good friend the Zany Zen, creator of the Zany Zen Railway (ZZR), back in July.

On the subway with the Zany Zen
From my photoshoot with the Zany Zen in late July. You can also find this picture on Flickr (it’s rated as moderate, so you need to log in with your Flickr account and ensure you can view such material).
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Here I am, dressed like a street prostitute with black and purple hair and a belly piercing, lying on my back on a table in front of a Latin American "baroque" building. I'm wearing a skimpy black bandeau top that exposes the bottom of my breasts, and a magenta skirt; the strap of my magenta undergarment rises above my skirt. My feet are adorned by magenta-coloured 8"-high exotic dancer shoes; at the bottom of my right calf, a "Queen of Spades" tattoo can be seen. On my right ankle, there are two ankles can be seen; the bottom one has the four letters of the word "SLUT" hanging from it.
Tulum Township, August 2021 (Rated: Adult)

This day marks a cumulative fifteen years in Second Life for me – around two years on my first account, and thirteen as Mona Eberhardt. However, my rezday isn’t the starting point for this post. I’m not interested in boring you with yet another “I’ve seen this development and the other in SL” retrospective. The main reason for the current post is my previous post, where I mentioned that I’ve spent a little over four of these years working in-world as an escort / exotic dancer. I think this is about as good a time as any to share my thoughts on that time in my SL.

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The Ebbe Altberg Memorial Islet, Altberg
The Ebbe Altberg Memorial Islet, Altberg (Rated: Moderate)

This is not my only blog, nor is it my longest-running. That “honour” goes to one of my RL-related blogs, which I’ve been managing since 2006. I still write the occasional post there when I feel like it. In the fifteen years that I’ve been managing that blog, I’ve been able to befriend like-minded friends; we’ve exchanged links to each other’s blogs, we’ve had long-winded and often heated discussions, we’ve come to understand each other, and connect with each other. As blogs gradually gave way to the fast-paced detritus that is Facebook, we connected with each other there. And also on Twitter, LinkedIn, and other social media that are more RL-centric.

With some people, we got to meet in person, talk on the phone, on Skype, whatever. With others, our communication, heartfelt though it was, remained within the confines of text-only exchanges – that’s what they felt comfortable with, so that’s what it was. Some people drifted away and went their own way. Others made themselves sparser than before due to family and work obligations. Some others sadly passed away.

As might be gloomily obvious from the title, death is precisely what I’ll talk about this time. More specifically, the death of a person you only know from online, with whom you’ve connected on all sorts of levels, yet you haven’t talked on the phone with them and / or met them in person. You may have spent hours chatting, exchanging comments on each other’s blog, emailing back and forth, even helping each other out with various difficulties. Still, for some reason, your connection with them isn’t “normally” considered a friendship, however heartfelt and sincere it may be, for the sole reason that you haven’t crossed the meatspace / cyberspace divide.

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