This is Dominique writing, assistant to Natalia!...

My Rubber Mistress Natalia! has allowed me to post now and then contributions on this page to topics which I find interesting.





May 2018


Paris, Charles-De-Gaulle airport

 
Natalia! and I were out on business. Endless waiting time in transit between flights. We are lolling around in the La Première Lounge, and we are bored infinitely. All magazines have been read, another Expresso we do not get down anymore, and better not drinking the complimentary champagne - it's too early in the day for that.
Not even the constant stare of the many business suits in the lounge on Natalia!s huge oversized tits can still cheer us up; we just have no more energy for promotional small-talk and business card distributing.

"I go to the loo" I say for lack of a better idea. "I'm coming with you". Of course. When do women go to the bathroom by themselves? 
Numerous heads turn. They would just like to go to the restrooms together with us.

Of course we go together in one toilet cabin, as we always do.
Natalia! stands spread-legged over the bowl, pushes her huge udders into my face, shows me provocatively her naked, wet and heavily pierced pussy, and pisses. Her intention is to turn me on, clearly. Of course it works, as it always does.
Well. And in the further activities we are a bit too loud, I'm afraid.

When finally after a long time and with the makeup a bit damaged we return, out of the cabin and entering the foyer, there are waiting for us:
a scolding elderly Frenchwoman, pointing angrily with her finger at us, a policewoman and a policeman. Sh...!
What the shrew has reported to the officials is clear, we do not need understand French.
Of what the female official accuses us in French, with a sinister cheerless face, is also clear, for knowing that we also do not have to understand her language, but I tell her in German that I do not understand a word.

Her colleague intervenes and asks us in English, if it were true that that we had taken indecent actions against each other in the toilet.
Saying no would be silly, the hellcat would summon it. And in addition, all have probably listened since a while. I smile without obligation, but Natalia! admits it, with a very ladylike grin and with a proudly swelling chest cup H, and adds, well, but only in the cabin, and no one has seen it. At the most and maybe it could have been heard a little, in case the lady should have put her ear to the cabin wall, what actually also is not allowed...
But, I then ask the young handsome policeman, looking at Natalia!, could you resist this woman...?

A very sympathetic, even conspiratorial grin covers his face, a grin which only French policemen are able to produce.
And actually his eyes are now only talking to Natalia!'s big and indecently forward pushing assets.
He wants us having much fun furthermore and a good flight, and he warns us halfways seriously not to do that in the plane, that gives real trouble.
We look deeply into his eyes and promise it, he nudges his speechless colleague to go on and leaves the distraught complainant with open mouth.

Yes, that's Paris. He even did not ask for our ID cards. In Germany this would have turned out quite differently.
And then we have done it again on the on-board toilet. Matter of principle.






March 2018



Comments on Dominiques criticism below



Hi guys -

On the one hand, I received a lot of e-mails on my critical article "I miss Rubber Parties" from January 2017, in which my criticism was accepted unconditionally.

On the other hand, there were also two replies in which rubber parties were mentioned to me which should really be different.
But before I name them here, I will visit them and make my own judgement.

I will certainly come back to that in this place!

 Here is a selection of the e-mails.

Your Dominique

_______________________________________________

G.K.  from UK  

I've just read Dominique's article about fetish parties and found it fascinating and interesting.
As I said to you briefly a few years ago it was through these parties I got into the rubber world.

It was back in 1983 and it was still a word of mouth scene. There was the odd shop selling pretty basic outfits but there was one particular place in West London that specialised in proper rubber outfits. That was Kensington Market where a lot of young designers had stalls selling some very interesting clothes and accessories. 

It was also there that I heard about a monthly club in Soho that was on the first Tuesday of every month held in a gay club but this night was for all. It was great, there were proper fetishists there, no selling, no lurkers in street clothes and some serious play with alway one or two mistresses bringing their slaves along and keen to give a floor show. 

It was there I met Steve Beech who was starting up “Der Putsch“ and later started “Westward Bound“, was keen to get people to come along to his monthly meetings. He ran the club from various venues, basement bars, clubs that had a quite night etc. 

In those pre internet days you eagerly waited for the post to drop the invitation though the letter box to find out where the next one was. They never disappointed, alway somewhere interesting and superb shows being put on. Dress code was strict and well respected always interesting outfits on display. 

I met people like Tim Woodward, who was just starting “Skin Two“ and various other people who became big in the 80's fetish scene and who, unfortunately, all started falling out with each other within a few years due to rivalry and petty jealousy. But then was all sweetness and light with lots of pieces of paper being traded with invitations to private parties being held around London. 

I saw the start of the “commercialism” of the scene just starting when I left London. “Torture Garden“ started up along with other money making clubs around where it changed from a group of like minded people getting together to trendy “see and be seen” parties with even Richard Branson getting involved through his Virgin clubs. 

I kept an interest in the scene from a distance like getting “Skin Two“ an “Heavy Rubber“ magazines. That lasted up until early ‘90’s when I totally lost interest which was only revived when in 2002 when I came across Natalia! 
The rest is history.

_______________________________________________

P.M.  from Munich, Germany     (translated from German language)

My comment on Dominique's article from a commercial point of view.

Unfortunately, I have to agree one hundred percent with Dominique's text concerning "rubber fetish parties".
If I had written this comment, it would have been even more aggressive.

Just commerce, commerce, commerce. I understand - and I don't mind at all - that the organizers of such events want to recoup their costs and of course also want to make a profit.

What excites me is the false labeling, the fake "fetish party", which attracts naive paying guests.  A hoax that has gradually turned the term "fetish party" and in particular "rubber fetish party" into a nown synonym for dishonesty, frustration and the attitude "Never again".
The "usual suspects", the organizers of the well-known so-called "fetish parties", are not interested in parties which are big international events, announced on a long term, taking place perhaps once a year, but in the fast euro, every few weeks or months.

Because it is by no means the case that with a real, genuine rubber fetish party you cannot earn any money. If such an event is advertised honestly and convincingly, if the advertising is distributed early on and, above all, internationally (which is no problem in times of the internet), there will also be an exceptional international audience for such an exceptional event - even if the admission fee should be high due to high costs.

On the occasion of a rubber session with her, I once talked to Natalia! about financing her unique and truly outstanding rubber party at her big estate in 2005. She didn't give me any details, but she was satisfied that despite the considerable material, organizational, personnel and financial effort she had put in for this event, and with an entrance fee in the upper mid-range, she was able to welcome about four hundred international guests from all five continents and thus made no profit, but also no loss.

There is a saying among Dutch event organisers that you should expect to lose out on the first half dozen events, and that the prize will only be won afterwards.
In this respect, Natalia! said that if she had continued this party as a series once a year (which she had never intended to do), she would already have won the second time, since this event had become known all over the world.
_______________________________________________

Jo Hammar  from Malibu, California, USA   

Thanks, Dominique, that you've raised this issue. However, I don't think that you have made yourself many enemies with it, at most in the circles of the so-called "fetish party" organizers. Quite on the contrary, real rubber fetishists will agree with you, I think.

In my whole life (I'm 72 now, and I've been a rubber fetishist for more than 50 years) I've only experienced a very few events of this kind that were real, true rubber fetish parties.

On the one hand, there were in the eighties, in the beginning, various "secret" parties in British country houses, organized by private people and still spiced with the shudder of the (at that time) more or less forbidden. Guests from the UK, the US, I also believe Holland, and few from Germany. It was - exciting!

Then in the nineties an exceptional event in Florida, outdoors, under palm trees and full moon, and with guests who had really taken the trouble to show and celebrate their rubber fetish. A magical night.

And last but not least, I think it was 12 or 13 years ago, Natalia!s unique rubber party on her private property. This event is still spoken of today - and rightly so.
But that‘s about it. No matter whether in Berlin or Amsterdam, London or Hollywood, New York or Minneapolis - I have tried it too often, and although I have always enjoyed the nights on the one hand, because I was always accompanied by exciting and real(!) rubber women, on the other hand it was always the same frustration.

I am convinced that an experienced and cosmopolitan event organizer, who should ideally also be a rubber fetishist at the same time, could create a real, genuine, e. g. annual rubber party series, with guests on a global level.
And that, by the way, definitely profitable.
_______________________________________________

T & M  from London, UK    

Hi, great article by Dominique.
We stopped going to 'fetish' parties because the dress codes were so stupid. Very few 'total RUBBER' people, with heavy multi layered rubberists - tubes, gasmasks, rebreathers etc. And the loud techno music - aaghhhh!!!

Surely at a rubber party there should be a 'rubber room' - rubber bed with many rubber sheets, rubber drapes, tubes and hoses hanging from the bed/walls, gyno chair, rubber body bags with attached gasmasks etc...??! We need to be able to smell the rubber in the air!!!



So, well done Dominique, we agree!!
_______________________________________________

J.v.d.G.  from Den Haag, The Netherlands     (translated from Dutch language)

I fully agree with Dominique's criticism.

My impressions of "rubber fetish parties" are, in keywords:
- in spite of "dress code" everybody comes in in any kind of clothing
- the usual annoying jerk-offs standing around
- techno and house from some "famous" DJ in ear-damaging volume
- drugs
- smoking
- extremely embarrassing SM and bondage shows
- so-called "play rooms", in which there is only some shabby SM furniture, which has
          nothing to do with a rubber party
- usually a buffet, which - measured by price - is an impertinence
- rubber? A few guests wear rubber, otherwise: nix rubber!

We - my convinced rubber fetish wife and I - have tried again and again, in the Netherlands, in Germany, in Austria, but it was always the same disappointment.
The only party we were allowed to experience and which came very close to our ideal of such an event was Natalia!s big private rubber garden party on her estate in 2005.
But apart from that - we don't do this anymore, we don't go to any of these parties anymore.
_______________________________________________



P.A.  from Québec, Canada     (translated from French language)


As a dedicated heavy rubber fetishist, I traveled around the world in the past (about 1990 to 2010) only to participate in some of the greatest rubber events.

But wherever I went to a party, I had to realize that they were always just boring commercial events. What I often heard from older people that there had been really great rubber parties "in the past", only with real rubber fetishists, in Great Britain and elsewhere, I have never been able to experience myself.

My experience was more or less always the same: 
unbearable noise (called techno music)
drugs
all possible so-called "fetish" outfits
but only a few rubber people - and if so, then mostly not convinced fetishists, but hip young people for whom it is just a fashion.

I gave up on it. Since I live alone, but am financially well off, I occasionally visit some professionals in different countries instead.
(In the USA, Mistress Adele, now only a privately acting Mistress, in Hong Kong the enchanting Madam Liu, and in Germany the incomparable Natalia), who are of course only available for money, but I know that they live the rubber fetish with conviction.
These visits give me more than any rubber party.





February 2018


I miss Rubber Parties.

 

The headline may sound strange at first, because there are many fetish parties, and even here and there there are a few "Latex Only" parties.




But:
 appearances deceive.

There were times when events of this kind really deserved the name "Rubber Party". But that was a long time ago.



On the one hand, in the founding years of the modern rubber fetish, in the past seventies and eighties, when men such as John Sutcliffe, Jo Hammar and others founded today's rubber fetish, private, mostly secret parties took place.

It began in the UK, and at that time everything like this was "forbidden" more or less under threat of punishment. Private rural estates, later also secret cellar locations in London's trendy neighborhoods such as Oxford St. and elsewhere were the places where rubber fetishists met.

Well, that was before my time, but I've heard a lot about it and talked to people who were there.



On the other hand, then, towards the end of the century, in the UK, Germany and other European countries, the views of politics, the judiciary and public morality gradually loosened. 
It was a tough fight and a smooth transition, but since the eighties and nineties rubber fetish events became "in". 
Save for a few exceptions, these weren't really fetish parties.



Because the existing disco and club scene had recognized only too quickly that with the everyday label "fetish" the interest of the predominantly juvenile clientele could be revived on the best, as a new trend, also as a new fashion, as a new box-office hit.

Suddenly, some kind of "fetish" - whatever was understood by it - was a must, and the "strict dress code" was introduced. "Only" in a fetish outfit the admission should be allowed - but what some organizers might have meant at first was sacrificed to commerce on the broadest front only too quickly. 



For many years now, almost every fetish event can been attended by everyone who makes a turnover. The frightening phrase "The decision of the Door Bitch is final", however, refers only in theory to the outfit. In practice, everyone who pays counts.
With the result that on each of these events besides of some true rubber fetishists in more or less fancy rubberizations, the countless party-, club- and scene- goers, and, more importantly, the inevitable rubbernecks in Berkemann sandals are standing around, gawking, lecherous and drooling, and wanking in all public, in their corduroy pants and sometimes also out of it.



The paying customer is fooled, if, for example, an event is called "Latex Lounge" and then the required dress code is literally the following:
    
        „Latex, rubber, rubber,
    
        Fetish, patent leather, elegant in evening wear,
        preferably elegant,
    
        and all fantasy-fashioned outfits“.


„Elegant" twice. My fantasy shows me a lot of elegant outfits, which unfortunately all have nothing to do with "latex" or even with "fetish". 


Or, the dress code for a “Rubber Ball“, to which Natalia! has just thse days received an invitation:
    
        “Latex, rubber, PVC, vinyl, leather
        Uniform fetish, gas masks
        Rubberdoll, cross-dressing
        Harnesses, bondage hoods
        Gimp masks, gags, gimp couture
        Catsuits, Zentai, Heavy Rubber
        Gothic Lolita, Cyber
        Luxury Kink
        Minimum acceptable attire for entry: semi-formal (suit & tie, button-down shirt, cocktail dress, etc.)“


“Latex Lounge“? “Rubber Ball“? I feel like I'm being jerked.



The usual “fetish“ party is practically indistinguishable from any techno or house event. This is already evident from the usual name: "Dance & Play Party", in connection with any "Lack & Leder" ["patent leather & leather“] phrase for such events which have largely replaced the term "Fetish Party".

Primarily, those events are no longer advertised with details to contents and course of a fetish event, but - with the names of the DJs. The more well-known the names of these turntable heroes are, the more the kids are running to this "fetish event".
Roaring, deafening, eardrum-damaging techno and house music, garnished with a little hip-hop, drugs completely natural, and alco-pops tailored to the kids. And there is smoking everywhere, mainly under the smoking ban signs. You‘re so cool, who can let their self-determination be spoiled by bourgeois passive smokers, and for the organizer only the turnover counts.



I have experienced it all too often that rubber fetishists, especially couples who had hoped for a night among really like-minded people (again, hope dies last but not least) after only a short time, or even at the door, turned away disappointedly and went home.

This began in 1991 in Amsterdam as a sales event for the latex clothing manufacturer DeMask with the notorious "Europerve" parties (characteristics: techno deafening, basses devastating to the ears, smoking everywhere, dress code just a recommendation, even the promoter of DeMask usually ran in black shirt and black trousers through his "rubber fetish" -party), and has developed until today to hundreds of similar "fetish" -events, which are not.



And then there are those eternally identical "stage shows", which are often nothing more than paid and camouflaged latex fashion sales shows with "action" - again and again this rope bondage and hanging (which is absolutely the most important thing in rubber fetish), young women dressed-to-kill and punked, with chain saws, sanders and welder's goggles, beating on slave girls without end, or those "mystical" numbers with fake Gregorian music that I can't even hear anymore.

And of course I mustn't forget the "play rooms".

Rubber (e. g. on seating furniture or loungers) doesn‘t exist on “rubber parties“ at all. Probably mainly for cost- and then also for cleaning- reasons. Also a gyno chair - which would be at least a hint of rubber fetish - is also the absolute exception. Instead of this, cross, pillory, ram, cage, some bondage rack. Maybe a bondage chair and a whipping bench. Everything borrowed from any SM furniture supplier, who in return is allowed to set up his sales and advertising stand free of charge at the party. So everything the rubber fetishist desires to treat his rubber slave girl in public (or vice versa)? No. Really not. Here, BDSM only meets simplicity, would-be fetish meets mere commercial thinking.


Like my Rubber Mistress Natalia!, I'm a true, a genuine, an addicted rubber fetishist, and I just don't want to go to all that “fetish party“ crap anymore.




Objection:
 but exactly as you describe it, it's not, there are also real "Latex Only" parties, to which access is only granted in latex outfit.

Yeah. That's right. But I have to be very clear about these few such events (which, by the way, are usually small-scale events). Even though I'm probably making enemies with it.


Over the past few years I have - often also together with Natalia! - attended such real "Rubber Only" parties, and I have to admit there were really some where you only came in when dressed in a rubber outfit.
PRO: so far so good.



But now to some exemplary
CONTRAS:


We actually had to experience it at such an event, at a shabby "castle", that in the afternoon, on some kind of pre-party to a "Rubber Only!" event, mothers with babies and pushchairs were getting together for a funny afternoon event, cheerful families gathered around coffee and cakes, sausages and beer, nappies and milk bottles.
Of course un-rubberized.
We then decided not to participate in the evening; we could imagine what the rest would look like.

In general, unfortunately, this bourgeois atmosphere of a garden club with suckling pig on the grill is more often than not an integral part of it, even a very important characteristic of such extremely cosy (shudder!) "rubber fetish" events.



Narrow small rooms, often private SM cellars with low ceilings or ordinary corner beer bars are often chosen as event locations. Maybe it's because the rent is cheap there, but I'm afraid the real reason is the taste of the organizers (and the guests).



In general, the guests. It strikes me that just as with the really countless existing "fetish regulars' tables" (shudder!!) a large part of the audience at the respective events consists of the same persons. You know each other, see each other, meet each other. Every year again, like at the markmen‘s festival, like at the rubberized carnival. 
This inevitably leads to the formation of cliques, which is something that guests who do not belong to the regular staff or, still worse, who come there for the very first time, are experiencing first hand. As soon as you enter the small restaurant, no loud hello as with the familiar faces, but icy silence and hostile glances, especially from the women. From the men, at respectable new female guests, more the horny "let me grope and fuck" looks and speeches.

The rather sparse buffet is usually already eaten then, by the way, as the regular guests do not eat anything at home and come in time to fill up their belly.
After all, they have paid the entrance fee and - typically German, as I would say as an Italian - they have "a right to it!“ Jawoll!!! With three exclamation marks.

But speaking of women. When a woman goes to a sex-, swinger- or even "fetish"- party with her spouse, her lord and master, she should leave jealousy at home. And if she goes along with him for his sake only, she better should't go at all. 

But to hate any woman already on the distance who looks better or is hotter rubberized than she is, and to show this also in all clarity, is not necessarily the right way to spend an exciting party night among like-minded people.



Women are also often responsible for their own frustration. When we're not 18 years old anymore, we all don't look as good naked as we do in a perfect (rubber) packaging - and I'm naturally included. But if she doesn't really like rubber anyway, but only because of "him" she puts on such a breast-free and belly-free fiddle with chains and suspenders, and that's an online creation made in China, which only looks good on the photos in the catalogue of the 21 year old blond English glamour-model with silicone boobs, but not on her pierced hanging tits and her three-birth belly, then she doesn't have to be surprised.

Half-naked and tasteless is neither stimulating nor the "dress code" as it should be at a fetish party.


In most cases, these rather contemplative locations (narrow, sweaty, brewery-smell
impregnated body contact is usually guaranteed due to lack of space) are also filled with unbearably loud music, which - of course - reaches an even higher decibel level during the night with increasing alcohol levels of the DJ and the audience.

Well, here the torture doesn't usually consist of techno, but after after initially halfway hip music it's pretty soon only German hits. Which is even more unbearable.



The rule is that smoking is only allowed in one room. However, since the organizer is usually a smoker himself, this is either the central room such as the bar, where he likes to stay and where actually everyone wants to go, or it inevitably runs through all the rooms, and then the cigarettes will soon be lighted everywhere anyway.

Again to the so-called dress code. Since this is almost always practiced more or less arbitrarily, not only the real fetishists come to such events, but also the kind of persons I would like to call "Intrusive Pigs", which can be found in different varieties at many events.

At an annual Hamburg fetish event a completely disturbed guy in a jesus-like dirty-white fabric outfit ("fetish" is everything) runs around regularly, who takes pleasure in constantly jerking off under his coat and then, unsuspecting and surprisingly, especially to male guests, giving his paw to shake hands. With his wank on his fingers.


Real rubber fetishists, whether they come alone, in pairs or in threes, are often lonely characters at these events - on any fetish parties anyway, and also on "latex-only" events if they don't belong to a giddy clique that has already occupied the biggest sofa suite for the whole night. 
I would be interested to know if they do arrive already the day before in order to be able to put their hotel towels (which they have stolen at their last holidays) in the party location in the morning in order to reserve and defend their seat castle, because they supposedly have qua towel "entitlement to it“!


At another, later rubber party in Amsterdam we (Natalia!, Jo Hammar and I) met an older, obviously very wealthy British couple, dressed in endlessly elaborate Rococo outfits made of latex, which stood around lost and desperate and, when we spoke to them, resignedly expressed "this is certainly not our idea of a rubber fetish party". We had to agree with that wholeheartedly.
When they then sighingly mentioned "Those were still rubber parties, in London, in England and Wales in the countryside, organized by Atomage, in the early years..." and JH then said who he was, and that he had experienced and appreciated these parties in the eighties and nineties, the evening was still saved for us all.




Conclusion.
What do I understand by a real, a successful rubber party? Let me mention a few keywords:


The rooms.
Noble. Elegant. Big and generous. Bright (not always this BDSM cellar- or pub- dark and dirty ambience! Party area inside and outside in a garden or park.



The season.

In spring or autumn. In summer it is usually too hot outside for rubber, and in winter too cold.

The time.

The days when a really cool party in a club started at three o' clock in the morning at the earliest, are fortunately a bit over. But 21h or later is the rule.
 Why not just start in the afternoon instead? What's wrong with meeting in fine weather and sunshine?



The purpose of the party.
Contact and conversation, to see and to be seen, meet interesting and exciting people, getting to know each other and understanding each other in the sense of the word - all this should be the foreground, but not far too loud music and senseless drinking and drug consumption.
And also not necessarily is the "playing" (by the way, I think this expression is childish) in the "play rooms" - do these people not have a bedroom or a hobby cellar for practicing their fetish sex? Or is it about the viewers participating?


The play rooms.

If at all, it should not be the usual BDSM furniture, but real rubber fetish equipment. I don't have to explain, rubber fetishists know what this is all about.

The music.

Regardless of the style, this is a matter of taste for the organiser and the guests. But the most important thing is that the volume is - and stays during the night - moderate so that conversations are possible without any problems.



The dress code.
Rubber Only MUST be adhered to, without exception. Other is not allowed, also not half or more naked (unless seductive slave girls are sparsely rubberized...).

The entertainment and the shows.

If the rest of the framework is right, I do not think it should be at all.

The buffet and the drinks.
It doesn't have to be a star chef (this has already been done at a fetish party), but an upscale choice of food and drinks would be desirable. Currywurst and chicken are not what suits an elegant event.


The smoking.
It must be absolutely forbidden in all rooms. Surprisingly enough, even today's organizers who are smokers themselves still think that non-smokers are intolerant.
Smokers should refrain from smoking for the night or go outside. Or - yes, I can be politically very incorrect - stay away.



The guests.
Yes, you can, and sometimes you have to be "politically incorrect". I've let off a little bit of steam above in terms of "smugness" and "intolerance".

And what also bothers me is that gays are admitted to any "fetish" party. Partly they even dominate them, because we are all sooo tolerant of course. But try to come as a straight person - no matter if man or woman - to a gay fetish party. Not a chance.  Not even as an obvious dyke. That's where tolerance ends at the doorman.





Oh, by the way:
They really do exist, the real, genuine rubber parties.

They really do exist, the Heavy Rubber Parties, the Most Heavy Rubber Parties, the Real Hardcore Rubber Parties, which really deserve this name. And not so few.


Cool, don't! And that makes everything I've written so far wrong? Unfortunately not. 
Because, the catch: they are for gay men. Strict and strictly adhered to code at these events: Men Only.
No heterosexuals, no bisexuals, no women, not even lesbians. Just gay men. See the previous paragraph.

 

Well. All very unfortunate. 






January 2015


Over the Christmas holidays my Rubber Mistress has spent some days at an elegant location together with her celebrity slut #006 Kitty Core and with me for making photos for her website.
Natalia! was actually continuously rubberized over the whole days, day and night - she really is a hardcore rubber fetishist. This was not the first time - there have been several occasions in which she did not get out of her rubberizations over several days, like at her famous/infamous heavy rubber appearance at the Beverly Hills Hotel in Hollywood.

One evening she was so exhausted after a hard day photo-production that she just as she was fall asleep in her rubber bed (
whenever she can make it possible she sleeps in rubber sheets, when she travels she always takes it with her). With rubber mask, long rubber gloves and long highheels rubber boots. She had not even removed her make-up, so tired she was.

I found this sight so beautiful, so touching, and, yes, even so innocent, I just had to photograph it.
Well, Natalia! then woke up and saw that I was taking pictures of her, but she did not mind. And I think the photos turned out great.

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