PAJAMA-CLAD STRANGERS arrive at a pillow paradise tucked away in an Emeryville townhouse. They shake hands and exchange names while cozying up on colossal-sized foam cushions. Ripe with nervous energy, the newly acquainted bunch sits patiently, waiting to unleash its inner cuddle monster.
So-called “cuddle parties,” a New York City phenom that recently arrived on the West Coast, are being billed as the newest way for adults to connect in a world that often seems isolating and emotionally detached. These sensual-yet-not-sexual gatherings allow strangers to explore affectionate play and touch with one another in a safe and nurturing environment.
But be forewarned, no dry-humping allowed.
From mountainous puppy piles, where cuddlers lay atop one another and nuzzle to friendly foot massages, 20 self-described snugglers eagerly anticipate the three-hour cuddle party pandemonium.
Wearing a comfy T-shirt and loose cotton pants, cuddle leader Susan Strasburger, a silver-haired 51-year-old from Emeryville, calls attention to the group of canoodlers and reminds them of the rules.
You don’t have to cuddle anyone at a cuddle party, ever. You can just talk, or read, or nap, or play a game. You can giggle or cry — both are just as invited as the other. This is a place for you make your own authentic choices about how to be and what to do,” she says, reading from the cuddle party manual.
Equal parts cuddler and communicator, Strasburger, a corporate consultant, remembers being a young girl and asking her parents if a cuddle gene existed. Aware of her snuggly behavior, a friend referred Strasburger to www.cuddleparty.com, where she immediately connected with Reid Mihalko, the New York-based sex and romance coach who developed the concept a year ago.
With a handful of parties under her belt, Strasburger attracts guests through word-of-mouth and snuggle-friendly Web sites.
Sam Zoranovich, 27, of Hayward is a varsity cuddler. The soft-spoken snuggler started cuddling up with strangers after stumbling into a snuggle camp at Burning Man, the week-long art festival held in a Nevada desert each September. Zoranovich met Strasburger via www.lovetribe.org and was ready and willing to attend her first official party.
Like many of the cuddle party guests, Zoranovich is quick to comment on the stifled state of snuggling in American culture. She believes cuddle parties let adults rediscover touch in a safe environment where the emphasis is on exploration rather than worrying about whether someone is coming on to you.
Although not a singles event, the intimate play and touch between cuddlers can spark interest, and sometimes that interest can be felt, literally.
At a cuddle party, erections become Mother Nature’s way of giving us the thumbs-up sign,” notes the cuddle party Web site.
From sexual issues to cuddle rejection, the Web site answers frequently asked questions and attempts to assuage any fears one might have of cozying up with strangers.
Roy Turpin, 47, who lives with his life cuddle companion, Strasburger, in Emeryville, says there isn’t necessarily anything creepy about snuggling up with strangers.
I like strangers, as every friend was a stranger once. I feel like it is a way to get my emotional needs for physical contact met from someone other than my wife,” says Turpin.
Strasburger took a weekend-long training program and was the facilitator of three cuddle party events before becoming a “certified” cuddle lifeguard. The certification program costs $650.
To maintain a calm cuddling atmosphere the cuddle lifeguard doesn’t travel alone. A flannel-pajama sidekick known as the cuddle caddy helps with registration, snack set up, ambience and cuddle questions.
A self-described cuddle slut, Turpin is also Strasburger’s cuddle party caddy. Throughout the event he and Strasburger regularly check in with party guests, making sure they are comfortable with their desired level of snuggling.
I have seen people who were afraid to cuddle with others at a previous party realize they were missing out on a fun and essential experience and come back for another cuddle party,” Turpin says.
Party attendees have to e-mail Strasburger to go to an event and pay $25 per person for a three-hour party, with a sliding scale for students and those cuddling with a comrade.
With roughly 20 people per event, party guests are not deterred by the fee. The opportunity to engage with other adults in a safe, touch-friendly environment is what keeps cuddle veterans returning.
Even the guests with reservations about cuddling let loose for the “cuddle toboggan.” Backs to bellies, a human chain of snugglers links up, and participants take turns massaging each other. With hands on shoulders they sway from left to right, pretending to slide down a mountain. Suddenly, the toboggan jerks to a halt and the cuddlers fall back, each comfortably positioned atop one another.
I feel that there is a safety and physical intimacy that occurs between people who cuddle. It provides them with an opportunity to develop comfort in their own body, let down their physical and emotional defenses and relax into each other,” Turpin says.
At the party a group of women gather together in a small circle to brush each other’s hair. It’s reminiscent of a girlish pre-teen sleepover. A cross between Enya and elevator music plays in the background as the women sip juice and take turns running their fingers through each other’s hair.
I love having my head rubbed. I just really love affection. That’s what it boils down to,” says Nora Hoffman, 31, of Berkeley.
– The next Bay Area cuddle party with openings is scheduled for 1-4:30 p.m. June 11. For more information or to RSVP, e-mail Susan Strasburger at sstras@pacbell.net.atop one another and nuzzle to friendly foot massages.
Wearing a comfy T-shirt and loose cotton pants, cuddle leader Susan Strasburger, a silver-haired 51-year-old from Emeryville, calls attention to the group of canoodlers and reminds them of the rules.
“You don’t have to cuddle anyone at a cuddle party, ever. You can just talk, or read, or nap, or play a game. You can giggle or cry — both are just as invited as the other. This is a place for you to make your own authentic choices about how to be and what to do,” she says, reading from the cuddle party manual.
Equal parts cuddler and communicator, Strasburger, a corporate consultant, remembers being a young girl and asking her parents if a cuddle gene existed. Aware of her snuggly behavior, a friend referred Strasburger to www.cuddleparty.com, where she immediately connected with Reid Mihalko, the New York-based sex and romance coach who developed the concept a year ago.
With a handful of parties under her belt, Strasburger attracts guests through word-of-mouth and snuggle-friendly Web sites.
Sam Zoranovich, 27, of Hayward is a varsity cuddler. The soft-spoken snuggler started cuddling up with strangers after stumbling into a snuggle camp at Burning Man, the week-long art festival held in a Nevada desert each September. Zoranovich met Strasburger via www.lovetribe.org and was ready and willing to attend her first official party.
Like many of the cuddle party guests, Zoranovich is quick to comment on the stifled state of snuggling in American culture. She believes cuddle parties let adults rediscover touch in a safe environment where the emphasis is on exploration rather than worrying about whether someone is coming on to you.
Although not a singles event, the intimate play and touch between cuddlers can spark interest, and sometimes that interest can be felt, literally.
“At a cuddle party, erections become Mother Nature’s way of giving us the thumbs-up sign,” notes the cuddle party Web site.
From sexual issues to cuddle rejection, the Web site answers frequently asked questions and attempts to assuage any fears one might have of cozying up with strangers.
Roy Turpin, 47, who lives with his life cuddle companion, Strasburger, in Emeryville, says there isn’t necessarily anything creepy about snuggling up with strangers.
“I like strangers, as every friend was a stranger once. I feel like it is a way to get my emotional needs for physical contact met from someone other than my wife,” says Turpin.
Strasburger took a weekend-long training program and was the facilitator of three cuddle party events before becoming a “certified” cuddle lifeguard. The certification program costs $650.
To maintain a calm cuddling atmosphere the cuddle lifeguard doesn’t travel alone. A flannel-pajama sidekick known as the cuddle caddy helps with registration, snack set up, ambience and cuddle questions.
A self-described cuddle slut, Turpin is also Strasburger’s cuddle party caddy. Throughout the event he and Strasburger regularly check in with party guests, making sure they are comfortable with their desired level of snuggling.
“I have seen people who were afraid to cuddle with others at a previous party realize they were missing out on a fun and essential experience and come back for another cuddle party,” Turpin says.
Party attendees have to e-mail Strasburger to go to an event and pay $25 per person for a three-hour party, with a sliding scale for students and those cuddling with a comrade.
With roughly 20 people per event, party guests are not deterred by the fee. The opportunity to engage with other adults in a safe, touch-friendly environment is what keeps cuddle veterans returning.
Even the guests with reservations about cuddling let loose for the “cuddle toboggan.” Backs to bellies, a human chain of snugglers links up, and participants take turns massaging each other. With hands on shoulders they sway from left to right, pretending to slide down a mountain. Suddenly, the toboggan jerks to a halt and the cuddlers fall back, each comfortably positioned atop one another.
“I feel that there is a safety and physical intimacy that occurs between people who cuddle. It provides them with an opportunity to develop comfort in their own body, let down their physical and emotional defenses and relax into each other,” Turpin says.
At the party a group of women gather together in a small circle to brush each other’s hair. It’s reminiscent of a girlish pre-teen sleepover. A cross between Enya and elevator music plays in the background as the women sip juice and take turns running their fingers through each other’s hair.
“I love having my head rubbed. I just really love affection. That’s what it boils down to,” says Nora Hoffman, 31, of Berkeley.
– The next Bay Area cuddle party with openings is scheduled for 1-4:30 p.m. June 11. For more information or to RSVP, e-mail Susan Strasburger at sstras@pacbell.net.
