The concave and convex flowing lines of armor plating, skintight leggings, and sleeves into huge puffy boots and heavy gauntlets dazzle my eyes and give me odd feelings all over my body. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no hentai (pervert). But, darnit, anime is sexy.
To an otaku, anime is as titilating as a waif strutting in a sheer miniskirt on CNN Style. Through the lines and colors that the animators naturally draw comes a raw, unconcious element of sex. I page through the highgloss pages of Newtype magazine salivating over every highcolor, neon-lit, original anime spread. My eyes pour over the hardsoft cyber headbands, wristbands, knee-high metallic boots, highly rendered codpieces or bras, jetpacks, helmets and visors. The amazing, and fantastic part is that all these accessories are supported by a small, malnourished, disproportionate, anime virgin. The irony through impossibility adds to the sexual essence that these large magazine pages display. It’s all safe and fun in primary colors and plastics and jewels, but scary and really fun with swords, and giant robots and monsters in my pocket.
Otaku as hentai is an assumption made by outsiders to the genre. But it’s not like that, or not what they might think. The irony is sexy, dangerous or an adrennaline rush. So the next time you’re goofing off at work looking at the eerily sexy pictures in Newtype and someone peeks over your shoulder in disgust, just tell them you’re admiring the footwear, but you don’t have a moonboot fetish