Spending the night with Pete Maciejowski
More from Jack Cullen
Jack Cullen spends a night with risqué photographer Pete Maciejowski, star of the 2012 BUTT calendar, gay scene poster boy and author of the popular new blog The Homosocial.
Pete Maciejowski and I are sitting on the balcony of his Earl's Court apartment in just trainers and pants. He’s looking good, bulging in some tight white briefs with a camera slung around his neck. As he leans forward to pour gin into a pint glass the camera spins slowly on its strap in this cavernous space where Pete’s body retreats inwards beneath his pecs. Over in my corner I look a lot less cool with my limp brass coloured hair that Gay Times’ very own Dylan B Jones did a terrible job of bleaching, and my camp dollar-green Diesel pants that glow in the night like an unwanted Google Ad box.
Generally speaking interviewers should keep their clothes on. In fact, in the Gay Times Interviewers Handbook it clearly states that if an interviewee suggests nudity you must first give a slow bewildered blink of declination and then spend the rest of the session channelling Professor McGonnagall (half-moon glasses optional).
But this man is an exception. Pete Maciejowski is outlandishly sexy in a hypnotic fashion. Over his intelligence or photography skills I think that it is this fearless charm and natural leadership that has enabled him to start a blog in which couples fuck on his kitchen floor. As I sit in my pants sipping white wine (that I brought as a gift but he dismissed saying “Nah, I never drink white wine, fucking hate it”) I find myself thinking thoughts like this – “If gays ever have to form an army I desperately want Pete Maciejowski to be in my barrack”
Earlier on in the evening we were in Sainsbury’s by Earl’s Court station (bizarrely he insisted on meeting me at the station like some kind of weekend Dad). In the supermarket queue surly gay men couldn’t stop staring at us (well, Pete) as he plonked items into his bag at the self checkout. He radiates a primitive sexual energy, innocently inviting like a hot plummer but the self-entitlement of Donkey Kong. In short, Pete Maciejowski shits all over the poncy suited rich gays queuing with their bachelor baskets of pizzas and Peronis. It feels really cool just being next to him.
Back on the balcony Pete takes an unannounced photo of me lighting a cigarette, pointing his camera directly at my dick. “It’s an exchange” he grins, pouring more gin into his bottomless glass. “You’re interviewing me, I’m photographing you”
“This better not appear on your blog” I say. My voice sounds timid and pointless juxtaposed against his calmly commanding tones.
“Only a fraction of what I take goes on the blog, I get so many people emailing me now, mostly private work, everyone wants hot photos of themselves don’t they?”
“Don’t they just want you to fuck them though?”
“Sometimes I fuck them, sometimes we play in the garden, usually we just get wrecked. It depends what mood I’m in” He casts a hand out, indicating his garden which is actually a yard. A yard which I recognise from his blog, specifically men in jockstraps wrestling him against the wall at the back of it.
“I prefer to photograph someone I’m fucking, rather than fuck someone I’m photographing” he says looking at me questioningly, checking that I understand. I don’t understand. I’m looking at his inner thighs. Thank God for Dictaphones.
Secretly I wish he’d invited me here to photograph me, not simply to give exposure to his blog. To my horror it turns out Pete Maciejowski can read minds: “Who knows, we might become friends?” he says suddenly. “You can be my muse tonight” he says, suppressing a cynical smirk.
But I refuse to be seduced into Pete Maciejowski’s web. Sitting up straight, t-shirt on, it’s time for business. It’s time to remove myself from the conversation. Gay Times always wins, and I’ve done my research.
How did quiet Peter, a child raised on pickled cabbages by his Polish grandfather, become a BUTT pin-up? Why does he hide his age? Why does he own All Saints’ Greatest Hits? Why did he recently enrol a life coach? What was it like going out with a 22-year-old when he was 14? How did he become friends with prominent art collectors? Has he ever been fisted?
Watch this space.