Triggered by this month's Vanity Fair, writer Toni Bently detail's her Hysterical Literature experience.
Once seated I raised myself up bit by bit, hiking my long skirt all the way up until it pooled gently around my waist. The edges of the table were hung with heavy fabric fastened to the top of the desk creating a kind of small cave under the table: Katie’s workspace. “What’s it like under there?” I ask her. She pauses: “Dark. And hot.”
One final adjustment: I need to be seated with my derriere as close to the front edge of the chair as possible, not centered back in the seat where one normally would sit. I found a perfect balance by pressing my waist into the edge of the table, and, with my legs extended and elongated quite far forward and apart, I was firmly wedged, though it was certainly not how I had ever read Henry James before.
Head ups. The video might be NSFW.