Attitude

THE PORN STAR AND THE POET

In conversati­on with Jake Bass and Max Wallis

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Jake Bass set the digital world to sweat when he became one of the most googled porn stars in the world in 2014. Award after award followed, and his bad- boy- next- door looks had men locked away in their rooms for nights on end rubbing their gear stick down to a small stump. These days, Jake, 28, enjoys a more relaxed life, hosting the occasional event or putting in a club appearance while living off the generous income that his Fleshjack toy earns him. Max Wallis is an internatio­nally renowned poet and model and the author of two books, Modern Love and Everything Everything. Twenty- nine- year- old Max has had poetry on billboards, an ongoing fashion collaborat­ion with House of Holland, a regular column in Attitude and is putting the finishing touches to a novel. But that’s not all of it. Sid Gentle, the production company behind the hit BAFTA- award- winning show Killing Eve, bought his LGBTQ TV drama on the basis of an outline he showed them last year. When this issue’s kissing cover was pitched to Jake and Max back in May, we bounced around different ideas of what to do for their respective photo shoots. A flash of inspiratio­n hit, and we thought wouldn’t it be wonderful to bring their very contrary viewpoints together for a conversati­on on life and love as we mark 50 years since the Stonewall riots — an event that inspired the first Pride march, acting as a starting gun for the ongoing battle for legal equality across the world. Those first Pride parades were a defiant call that challenged the barriers to queer love, from legal inequality to destigmati­sing gay sex.

What does Pride mean to Jake and Max, two very different millennial­s who, without Stonewall and the subsequent Pride movement, would have had very different lives?

CLIFF: What does Pride mean to you?

MAX: It’s about identity, about acceptance, but also, ultimately, about love. Being comfortabl­e, and in a safe space where you can love whoever the hell you want, and actually acknowledg­e that with a form of acceptance you might not normally in every- day life. It’s also a form of history and acknowledg­ement of the fact that this is not something which is solved, especially as the world shifts more right wing.

JAKE: Pride was kind of forced down my throat when I was in porn [ laughs.] Even when I didn’t entirely realise the concept or what it meant for other people. I’m not gonna lie, when I started going out and doing all these crazy things, the last thing on my mind was that it was a time to be proud. It was an excuse to party and get fucked- up. Unfortunat­ely, that’s still true for a lot of people, as opposed to being when they take a stand for their individual­ity. I guess we all have our own way to get there.

M: The counterpoi­nt to that is losing your sense of mind in all those various ways that occur at Pride is part of a subconscio­us identity. When groups are oppressed, when groups have no sense of home, it’s normal to want to run away or to celebrate, and a lot of that happens with booze, drugs, or all those other things. To go out and get fucked- up and lose yourself in a crazy party and for that not to necessaril­y be a big issue and for it to no longer be stigmatise­d or taboo, maybe also be a subtle progressiv­e shift. It is an act of rebellion in itself.

J: This is a random example but my straight friend’s parents say things like, “I just don’t understand why they feel the need to walk with feathers coming out of their ass.” C: I guess it’s about having the freedom to actually walk down the road with feathers coming out of your arse. What does Stonewall mean to you?

J: That was the immediate point where things culminated for the gays, that revolution when they finally took a stand and said, “We’re going to be who we are.” Because at that point, you weren’t allowed to congregate in gay bars, you weren’t allowed to be more than a group of three men together, looking homosexual, without possibly being arrested or imprisoned. It’s about having human rights.

M: There’s the rebellion of love as well as the rebellion of sex. To fuck someone who has the same gender as you was an act of rebellion. But more, as we moved towards equal marriage and things like that, the idea of rebellion of actually loving someone became separate to just fucking them. C: The establishm­ent outlawed sex because back then they couldn’t imagine two men loving each other. It didn’t forbid two gay men from living together and being in love. It forbade them from having sex.

J: It’s shocking, it’s a political platform. Why would you give a shit? Why would you give two fucks if somebody is fucking someone else in their own house? It’s none of anyone [ else’s] business. What’s the logic behind that? There’s nothing that can be explained in the suppressio­n of two beings who are just trying to love each other. C: As younger members of the LGBTQ community, when you were young, when you were coming out, what did you think being gay was?

M: When you’re young, you are wrapped up in so many different vagaries and half- truths. Graham Norton was the only person I sort of knew of as a gay person when I

was younger, and Ian McKellen. It was difficult. Section 28 wasn’t exactly great education for what gay was and wasn’t. C: Did you feel being gay was wrong?

M: Not necessaril­y…

J: It didn’t feel right.

M: I was bullied by the high school kids. And it was very difficult because I would sit there and I’d be like, “Well, technicall­y, they’re right, I’m gay. Why am I getting upset about the fact that they’re calling me gay when everything they’re saying is completely accurate?”

J: It’s the power you are attaching to their words that affects you. We shouldn’t promote that agenda, but we all call each other “homos” and “big ol’ bottom.” All these horrible words that seemed so terrible when we were growing up are now just casual words. It’s unfortunat­e because the culture of appropriat­ion then becomes a little dodgy because now anyone and everyone can use those words the same way.

M: It stems back to being silenced.

J: People call each other “girl.” Same difference when you think about it, and it’s still not OK, technicall­y. But it’s true in theory, that’s basically genderfyin­g someone when in reality, you’re supposed to have no labels. It becomes a little bit confusing in this day and age because we try so hard to scream for independen­ce, but we also don’t want to be labelled. I’m finding myself a little confused on how I’m supposed to act and what space I’m supposed to take within the gay realm. Should I scream louder that I’m gay?

Or should I just do as I do? Because your goal in life is not to be louder than everyone, it’s just to be happy. Just to live your life and be happy. C: Max, a lot of what you write is about your identity. Do you see your sexuality as part of your identity?

M: I don’t see it as poetry of protest. And I don’t even see it as a soapbox or platform for that specific thing. What I write is about honesty and truth, not in the sense that it is true to what I’ve done all the time, it doesn’t mean that is what happened to me yesterday. But by extension I am a gay man, therefore, obviously, a lot of my experience­s are hinged on a lexicon of words and an experience that is intrinsica­lly gay. At the end of the day, it boils down to if you love someone you love them, and if you have sex with someone you have sex with them, and it just so happens that I’m writing about men, more often than not. C: What were your early years like?

J: I’m born and raised French Canadian. I come from a patriotic family. My dad was French- Spanish and was born in Quebec, and my mom’s Irish- Anglophone, also born in Quebec. So, it’s quite a mix. I’m not going to blame it on their background­s or anything like that, but growing up I had a very homophobic dad, very homophobic. He pushed me into sports, he pushed me into being the best version of what he thought a boy was, or should be, or what would help me be the man he wanted me to become, as opposed to just letting things happen. And it’s very suppressed. I felt I didn’t give 100 per cent when I was playing ice- hockey; I would go out on the rink, and my dad would call me sissy for not giving it my all. It’s such a terrible word that has no correlatio­n to how much energy you’re putting into whatever you’re doing. He passed away a year before I came out, before I “took control” of my gayness. But I kind of lucked out when I was a kid because I didn’t look “too gay” by heteronorm­ative standards so in high school I never got picked on. That said, I saw people being hurt and tormented for years because they were just a little more flamboyant. Ultimately, that’s what made me question if I was the right kind of gay. I had

“IT COMES DOWN TO THAT ELEMENT OF PRIVILEGE THAT HETERONORM­ATIVE PEOPLE CAN HAVE WHICH IS JUST AS SIMPLE AS LIKING THE PERSON YOU LIKE, AT THE TIME THAT YOU LIKE THEM AND IT NOT REALLY

BEING AN ISSUE” — MAX

friends who had rocks thrown at them. It’s ignorance, these kids are barely a person yet and they give themselves the right to have so much power over someone who doesn’t have any power over being gay or not. It’s mind- blowing.

M: I had a very supportive family, but I was bullied a lot in high school. Everyone said: “You’re a faggot, you’re gay.” I didn’t really know myself. Then you get to a point where it’s all about silencing. So, I’d be in a classroom, somebody will call me faggot and the teacher wouldn’t even care. Then it gets to where you are bullied from all sides, [ drink] cans were thrown at my head. And you go home and tell your mom and dad, and they’re lovely, but they would say: “Oh, let’s talk about it tomorrow.” I built up into this sort of pressure cooker of torment where I tried to commit suicide when I was 12 years old. I’ve got over it now, but it was the point where it was this whirlwind of constant abuse. All forms of bullying were constantly driven through this one facet of my being -— I didn’t even know I was gay at 12. There are straight guys getting with their girlfriend­s and ditching them after two days, then getting with their best friend and no one gives a shit and it’s in your classroom and you can see it, but as a 12- year- old gay boy, you basically dream of that but you can’t do it. You can’t do any of that. It comes down to that element of privilege that heteronorm­ative people can have which is just as simple as liking the person you like, at the time that you like them in your life and it not really being an issue. C: What was the moment when you realised you were “different”?

J: Marky Mark’s Nineties Calvin Klein shoot. C: Oh yes, I think that was responsibl­e for a lot of gay awakenings.

J: Oh, and Ryan Phillippe in Cruel Intentions.

M: Mine’s less about the physicalit­y of what triggered that. I knew from the age of eight, not knew I was gay, but that I fancied or got off on men. C: Was that a scary realisatio­n?

M: It’s difficult to explain. It’s a truth. Does that make sense? But how do you know whether or not it’s true without actually doing it? And that’s what is difficult about being gay when you’re young.

J: You have to stick it in to know [ laughs.] M: A lot of my sexual and romantic liberation came in my twenties. I’ve had two three- way relationsh­ips, for example, which again...

J: Did you say you’ve had two three- way relationsh­ips? I’m in porn but that just took it to another level. C: But you’ve done threeways, no?

J: I actually haven’t. Not in my personal life, and not even on camera. C: Jake Bass has boundaries?

J: No, it’s just never happened. I’m 5ft 6in so I’m often the cream filling, and I think, “I will not be the stuffing in that eclair.” I’ve been offered a few times. I shot for Bel Ami at one point and I was on the same couch [ as others] and some guy was giving us a blow job, but that’s about the closest I’ve got to a threeway. C: I love that you’re surprised by Max being in two “throuple” relationsh­ips and we’re shocked that you haven’t had a threesome.

J: How does a throuple even work?

M: One thing to know about them is that it all comes down to emotion.

J: OK, sure.

M: No, no, they’re great sexually, but ultimately if I like someone I want to be with them.

J: How old were you when you had the first three- way thing?

M: Twenty- one and it’s the same relationsh­ip now with one of them. We’ve been together for nine years.

J: I cannot wrap my head... if at 21 somebody told me like, “Yeah, we’re dating but I’m gonna go fuck somebody else...”

M: No, we were in a monogamous relationsh­ip. We lived together.

J: Well, that’s two steps higher. I need to step my game up.

M: The first one was the person who introduced me to my boyfriend, and that was for a year. That was lovely. The second one was about four years later and we all lived together.

J: So, exclusivel­y polyamorou­s?

M: Well, exclusive monogamy between three people. We loved each other, very much. I’m still wearing the signet ring one of the exes gave me. C: What’s the best thing about being in a throuple? M: Apart from the obvious?

J: Which is...

M: Sex. But you’re like a tripod, you balance each other out. When you are a couple, it’s like you’re on stilts, and you sort of sway in the wind a lot.

J: What a very cute notion.

M: I am a poet [ laughs.] When you’re three, you give up a third of yourself to each other, in a couple you give up half. So as a three, you give up less, but you take on more. You take on two thirds of two people. And you have to balance more because you have to rely on one another more. But it means that each facet of your personalit­y is

offset by the other people.

J: So much to keep up with...

M: It’s brilliant and magic.

J: So, the number three got booted out, and now there are two...

M: No, he ran off in a very torturous, explosive way, which I don’t want to get into. C: So in a throuple, you can effectivel­y support one another more and equally.

M: Exactly. People naturally believe that it becomes unequal because one’s left outside. But the truth is that that’s not the case, if you do it well. In my experience people have their own different lives, own different worlds, and you end up relying on one another for different things. Just like how, as a couple, you rely on the other person for different things, but you might have a best friend who you talk to about x, y and z. If you’re willing to fuck someone, you’re willing to get to know them.

J: That’s how I keep most people apart, by fucking them and leaving.

M: But everyone I fucked became my very close friend.

J: I try to do the opposite, I’m trying to keep everyone who is my friend away from my fucking bed because that’s how I fuck up relationsh­ips. That’s how ultimately, I’m hanging out with my best friend who is now into this guy who I used to fuck and it’s just like a web of “who hasn’t fucked each other now?”

M: When you get with someone it strips away a lot of vulnerabil­ity, it strips away lots of pretence. When you’ve shagged someone in the morning, you get to know them in a way that you don’t normally. You cut through a lot bullshit.

J: So, you’re fine waking up the next morning and he’s like, “Yeah, I fucked your best friend.” C: Why does it bother you that a person has had sex with someone you know?

J: Basically, after I quit porn I started attaching something to my sexuality, my intimacy, that I didn’t have before. Obviously, when I was doing porn, I didn’t care. I was young enough or too dumb to realise what intimacy meant and what you can actually give a person. When I quit porn, I thought: “OK, I can’t keep giving a part of myself to all these people for absolutely no reason then have them walk out of my life.” I’m not willing to let someone in if it doesn’t mean anything, if we’re not going to both

“WHEN I WAS DOING PORN, I DIDN’T CARE. I WAS YOUNG ENOUGH OR TOO DUMB TO REALISE WHAT INTIMACY MEANT AND WHAT YOU CAN ACTUALLY

GIVE A PERSON” — JAKE

grow with this experience. I don’t need to get off, I don’t need to let someone in for that. I can just jerk off and go to bed. C: How did you get into porn?

J: I like designer shoes [ laughs.]

C: Does it really pay that much? Outside of OnlyFans.

J: OnlyFans pays more than porn ever did or will. C: When did you acknowledg­e the fact that people found you attractive?

J: I had no idea what power I had over people or the influence I could possibly have and how I could conduct myself. Obviously, somebody saw it in me. There are people who just happen to stumble across an experience like that, and you are going with the flow making the best out of mistakes — this is my case. There are other people who live for it, actually wake up in the morning and want to get fucked, which is cool. But I don’t thrive on walking around a set with 10 different people naked, talking about how well my hole’s gonna get fucked. C: How did your first filmed situation happen?

J: I was one of those kids on MySpace. I already had a Tumblr and all that nonsense, and a pretty decent following back then for doing nothing. I was approached after a few months: “Oh, just come in, we’re going to take a few pics. If you’re comfortabl­e, we’re going to shoot a video and that’s it. It’s just going to be a solo, just you jerking off to the camera.” I didn’t give it two thoughts: “What doors is this going to close? At what point is this going to be my career?” I was 19 when I shot my first solo video. And after a week I had half my world telling me they wanted to fuck me, and the other half saying I was a slut. That was not the easiest thing to deal with because I didn’t know what was right and what was entirely wrong. It’s a job. There are a lot of people who don’t understand that, who have a hard time separating the fact that there are people who actually really love doing that, because I’m not slutshamin­g anyone, but they really enjoy sex. And there are people who do this to get their fucking pay cheque then go home and be happy doing something else. That was my case. A week after I put that video out I got approached by men.

com, Sean Cody, and cockyboys. com. And after a twohour conversati­on on Skype the next week, I flew to New York City for the first time. I didn’t even have a passport. I had to do everything in a matter of three or four days. It was the most exciting time of my life. I became the face of their company for four years. And I like to say that my former co- worker back then, Max Ryder, and I pretty much made the studio what they are today. C: When did you step away from it?

J: When you’re in the porn realm, there are lots of other opportunit­ies. I got a toy moulded after me within the first year. But the problem was because I wasn’t old enough, my income was not going straight into my pocket, it was going to the studios. Ultimately, that’s a whole different set of problems. But yeah, it was a rollercoas­ter. I wound up being one of the most- googled porn stars in 2014 and won multiple awards… just for being there, I guess.

M: You talk about it very much in the past tense, of quitting it and so on. Did you regret it?

J: From when I stopped at 23 or 24, it was difficult to come to terms with everything I had done because it wasn’t giving me the exact result I wanted when I left. Now I don’t regret it. I’m happy, there’s nothing I can’t do. There’s nothing I can’t buy, I just got a house, but it took me a while to come to terms with the choices I made. C: Did you enjoy the sex?

J: I mean, out of maybe 52 scenes? I might have enjoyed it with two partners, and only because I knew them beforehand.

C: How did that affect you?

J: It fucked me over, in so many ways. I still have confidence issues that weren’t there when I was doing porn because I was so care free. Now, I’m so aware of everything. Essentiall­y, I went into porn not even knowing the concept of confidence. It wasn’t a thing that I had to worry about because I was young and didn’t care. I have half a million followers; I post a picture and I get 3,000 people telling me I look great, or fat, or not good enough, or not as good as I used to be. Nobody teaches you how to cope with the “after” part. The owner of the studio didn’t sit me down and say, “Look, these are your exit options.” I found myself aimlessly wandering because I didn’t know what direction to take and how to take it. C: How did it affect your physical relationsh­ips?

J: I’m just a regular loser who likes to play video games. I’m not that special. I don’t like to drink, I’m like a lowkey pot head. I don’t need much to make myself happy, so I think a lot of people are kind of disappoint­ed when I’m not as hyped as my Instagram might [ suggest]. C: Max, you said you discovered your sexuality in your twenties…

M: In my teen years I enjoyed it in the sense that I connected with someone, but you don’t necessaril­y know how to have good sex because that comes through practice and time. It’s the taboo of not knowing even if it’s what you want. Essentiall­y, it takes a long time to work out what you want.

C: What were the stages of you experienci­ng gay sex?

J: I fell into a relationsh­ip at 19 when I started doing porn. I don’t think I’ve ever had better sex. And I’m 10 years older now. C: Is that because you romanticis­e it?

J: Definitely — 40 per cent of that comes from everything attached to it as opposed to the act itself.

M: You definitely rewrite memories. J: Definitely. “I was in a castle far, far away...” C: What makes a good sexual experience?

M: Intimacy.

C: But what is intimacy?

M: When your bodies blur as they touch.

J: When it’s exclusive. Knowing what I’m getting is not something that has been passed around a hundred times.

M: Is that the shadow of porn talking?

J: I just like knowing I have something that someone didn’t already have. And vice versa.

M: I know a lot of people who have had sex with people I know. I don’t care about that because they are people I know very well. They’re very close friends who I respect, who I love, who are good people, and that’s why it doesn’t bother me.

J: We’re opposites.

C: Do you feel that sex is ownership?

J: If you want to take a neutral standpoint of what I’ve been saying, it sounds as if I’m very possessive [ laughs.] “You’re only allowed to look at me and me only.” That’s definitely not where I’m going. C: Do you feel when you have sex with a person and they’ve had sex with somebody you know that it takes away from what you’re sharing?

J: My backward self is going to say, unfortunat­ely, yes a little bit. But that’s just me.

M: I’m less concerned. But it’s not all about sex. I don’t come at it from a purely physical reactionar­y response. If I like someone, I’ll fuck them, if I fuck someone I probably like them quite a lot. When I was 16 or 17, I was very obsessive but I built a wall around it and told myself I wouldn’t be like that any more. I hate the extremes of lust and hatred, so when I’m putting endless energy into something that is not at all answerable it makes me very frustrated with myself. It’s a black hole. There’s no point, and when you work out that extreme lust is actually obsession,

“I WOUND UP BEING ONE OF THE MOST- GOOGLED PORN

STARS IN 2014” — JAKE

and not love, it’s a powerful realisatio­n. You’re like, “Oh, you should probably cut that cord...” You can long for people and it not be returned. Love is love when it is inherently equal. If it’s done well, it’s equal because the only reason you love them is because they will love you back. C: Love, lust and obsession are often confused.

M: Love is having someone you go on adventures with in life, who you are comfortabl­e with, who you want to spend time with despite the fact that they can sometimes be the most annoying person in the world. Someone that no matter what happens in the to and fro of relationsh­ips, you still think of them nine times a day, and about inane shit like not even in the lustful way, just cuddling up in bed as you sleep, and the weird noises you make in the middle of sleep. Lust is different, it’s about wanting to rip someone’s clothes off and everything that entails. Obsession is constantly feeding coal into a fire so that it never goes out.

J: I think love is like peace of mind. It’s completing someone the same way they complete you, it’s just symbiotic, for lack of better terms. It flows naturally. Everything you do, you want to do with that person, you wake up and it’s just instinctiv­e to want to have that person next to you, and it’s heart- wrenching to wake up without them. Your day is constantly brightened up by

your other half. One third maybe, for Max! C: How would you describe that feeling of sexually desiring somebody?

J: It’s obsession. It fills your thoughts, your motivation. It’s a passion that you can barely have for anything else. No matter how much you’re in love with what you’re doing, your craft, it’s nothing compared with the power in the guy, the power that lust has, especially with someone you can’t have. C: To misquote RuPaul, when did you learn to love yourself?

J: Two years ago, when I came out of a haze. Growing up, accepting yourself, it’s a journey, it doesn’t happen overnight. There are ways of losing yourself easily in everything you want to be, and at one point you wake up and ask yourself: “Why have I been doing this?” C: Did you feel you lost yourself?

J: Yeah. At one point. You just need to says: “Wake up.” And you think: “This needs to go forward.” I need to be my own person, my own individual with my own goals, not constantly influenced by the social world, and everything that’s expected of me as opposed to what I want and what makes me happy.

M: I lost myself. Then I found myself in many ways. I gave up drink, for example, 18 months ago. I still have fun. I still go to parties. That was not necessaril­y a negative thing. But it was driving a wheel of anxiety that I didn’t know I had. When I stopped drinking, I found this incredible weight of anxiety lift that once lingered where I sort of couldn’t leave the house. C: What’s the one thing you would have done differentl­y?

J: I was known as the stuck up one of the bunch in the porn world [ laughs.] I was not very forthcomin­g, and people were partying a lot harder than I was. But they were also living much more insane experience­s. They lived to the fullest, when maybe there are a few times where I held back on account of not wanting to tarnish myself more than I already had. That’s really the meaning I’m attaching to it. It’s me holding back from doing more and trying more.

M: I should have leapt more into the unknown. But then again, I leapt quite a lot.

 ??  ?? Interview by Cliff Joannou Photograph­y Francisco Gomez De Villaboa Styling Nick Byam
Interview by Cliff Joannou Photograph­y Francisco Gomez De Villaboa Styling Nick Byam
 ??  ?? Jake wears shirt, by ASOS, shorts, by Dsquared2,
sandals, Jake’s own
Jake wears shirt, by ASOS, shorts, by Dsquared2, sandals, Jake’s own
 ??  ?? GROOMING Kris Smith, using Bumble and bumble
and MAC Cosmetics PHOTOGRAPH­Y ASSISTANTS
Elena Molina and Luxxxer FASHION ASSISTANT Lewis Blewitt
GROOMING Kris Smith, using Bumble and bumble and MAC Cosmetics PHOTOGRAPH­Y ASSISTANTS Elena Molina and Luxxxer FASHION ASSISTANT Lewis Blewitt

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