The sun kept playing peekaboo at the 43rd Annual Folsom Street Fair on Sunday. But there was nothing shy about the tens of thousands of participants who packed the yearly leather and fetish festival, which still seems to be growing every year. Floggers were flogged, whips were whipped, puppers were pupped, and—despite some comments that there were less than usual fabulous acts of public indecency—all sorts of naughtiness was to be had. But the overwhelming vibe was transgressive camaraderie, a rush of queer unity and expression in these terribly straitlaced times. The monied beige-ification of San Francisco continues, but Folsom Street Fair (launched as a protest to scare off gentrifiers, after all) remains a flash of good ol’ pleasurably perverse SF. —Marke B.




































