Miss Meatface Uses BDSM to Challenge the Definition of Femininity

There’s always a kind of discomfort that comes with Kat Toronto’s photographs. For one, she calls herself MISS MEATFACE, quite a gruesome moniker to an equally bizarre body of work that involves latex, loud prints, and humans in leashes. With these elements, the London-based performance photographer adds a touch of nostalgia; creating a juxtaposition that looks more like a menagerie than a perfect mixture.

Miss Meatface was born when Kat Toronto lost the very essence of her womanhood—or at least as society dictates. After developing a rare form of cervical cancer at 29, she had undergone a complete hysterectomy, robbing her of the definition of femininity most of us were taught to accept. After sitting herself down and confronting the meaning of womanhood, sex, and physical beauty, all while moving on from an emotionally abusive relationship, Toronto realized that the answer was Miss Meatface.

Within the frames of her polaroid pictures, Toronto transforms into a woman devoid of societal expectations. As Miss Meatface, she basks in ambiguity and peculiarity. She is a ‘60s housewife in a head-to-toe latex gear. She is objectified, but in control; a dominatrix who submits to her desires. She is a blissful dissonance that represents the inconsistency in society’s expectations of women. “Through Miss Meatface, I hope to inspire people to ask questions of themselves and of society that they might not have previously thought to question or explore.” she expresses. Her self-portraits, in a way, are an invitation to rebel to society and even to the viewers themselves.

“...through the fetish masks and attire, I was able to take away my identity as a woman and become a blank canvas...It allowed me to transcend the black and white world of male and female and become an object.”

It is no surprise that Miss Meatface also has quite a following within the fetish and BDSM scene, as she echoes their gravitation towards the freedom and artistic expression the act provides. Many people distract themselves from their sexual desires, but she decides to embrace it. Ironically, Miss Meatface’s maximalist portraits serve as a symbol of her tabula rasa, saying, “through the fetish masks and attire, I was able to take away my identity as a woman and become a blank canvas, or in some cases, turn myself into a doll. It allowed me to transcend the black and white world of male and female and become an object.”

This may all seem familiar, as Frida Kahlo’s story follows quite the same narrative, but Kat Toronto’s artistic journey adds even more questions to the table, pushing the boundaries even further. In the 21st century, our definitions and questions about femininity, sexuality, and beauty have changed, and Miss Meatface is proof of its evolution. Gone are the days of hopping in and out of gender norms, Toronto chooses to stay right in the middle—an uncomfortable gray area we all dare to step foot into when we look at her photos.

As she continues to spread her message through Miss Meatface, we sit down with her to explore her ideas on womanhood, nostalgia, art, and BDSM.

First, can you tell us the story behind your moniker? Why Miss Meatface?

The Miss Meatface story began around mid-2014. This was a year after I'd undergone a total hysterectomy after finding out that I had a rare form of cervical cancer at the age of 29. I was also in an incredibly unhappy relationship at the time, and so I began taking self-portraits that reflected how I felt inside—emotionally battered and bruised. I took up the art of special effects makeup and gave myself bloody gaping wounds on my face, black eyes, and bloody noses and used all of the outward signs of domestic violence in order to make a visual statement about how I felt on the inside. It was at this point that I came up with the name Miss Meatface

Before Miss Meatface, what were you doing? Have you always been inclined to the creative industry?

I’ve always been involved in the creative industry in one way or another. At university, I studied textile design and worked in the realms of fashion and costume and I had a hat-making business for three years. I also sang and toured with a band for five years. I love performing. Throughout it all, I’ve always come back to photography.

“Everyone has the right to be happy, everyone has the right to love themselves.”

You came up with Miss Meatface when you got a hysterectomy in 2013 in response to society’s definition of womanhood and femininity. What did it mean to you to be a woman before your surgery?

The concept of womanhood and femininity is a subject that I’ve pondered my whole life. As a child, I was a tomboy that preferred jeans and a t-shirt to a dress. Femininity felt like a totally foreign thing to me and I remember wondering what was wrong with me for not being drawn to stereotypical “girly” things. Upon reaching my 20s and early 30s and before the cancer diagnosis, I’d already felt an intense pressure to get married and have children, but it was soon after the cancer diagnosis that I felt this pressure on an even greater level. It was maddening for me to think that such high importance was placed on women to have children and it truly felt like I was being shamed by society for not adhering to this ideology.

How would you define femininity and womanhood now?

Soon after returning home from the hospital after undergoing the hysterectomy, I found myself standing in my bedroom with questions frantically circling through my head, the most vexing of which being “What does it mean for me as a woman to no longer possess the organs that are needed to carry a child?” It was these first questions that sparked something in me and eventually led me to delve into my feelings towards my sexuality, my body, and the world around me via the medium of photography and Miss Meatface.

I feel that this is something that I am on a continuous quest to explore, and ultimately this is one of the overriding reasons that Miss Meatface exists. The concept of femininity and womanhood is something that is always in flux for me, especially as my Meatface work evolves. I don’t know if I’ll ever reach any kind of final conclusion on the matter—and if I did reach a final conclusion, would it mean the end of Miss Meatface?

You often use polaroids and vintage elements in your art. Why vintage? What made you drawn to yesterday’s era?

I love the old family snapshot quality of the Polaroid camera. It’s this nostalgic aesthetic that reminds me of my childhood and is important for me to capture in my Miss Meatface work. Each Polaroid is a small, fleeting moment never to be captured again, making each polaroid a unique, one-of-a-kind timeless treasure to behold.

You’re quite known in the fetish and BDSM scene. What made you drawn to this lifestyle? How does it connect with you on a personal level?

I’ve been drawn to the BDSM and fetish scene since my early 20’s and it has consistently played a large role in both my creative and personal life. I like to keep a definite line drawn between Kat Toronto and Miss Meatface but on occasion, the two may cross and become blurred but for the most part, I keep Miss Meatface scenarios/shoots and Kat Toronto personal BDSM play scenarios very separate.

When the Miss Meatface persona first began to evolve I felt drawn to the BDSM/fetish aesthetic because through the fetish masks and attire I was able to take away my identity as a woman and become a blank canvas, or in some cases, turn myself into a doll. It allowed me to transcend the black and white world of male/female and become an object. I found that the more I delved into Miss Meatface, the more I actually got to know about myself as Kat Toronto and about my own sexuality and feelings about being a woman in a society that places so much emphasis on physical beauty, having children, etc.

Many people shy away from talking about their sexuality. What made you come to terms with your sexuality and gather the courage to be open about it?

It was through my confrontation with cancer and breaking free of an incredibly unhealthy relationship that made me open my eyes and realize that I needed to follow my heart in order to be happy. This ultimately led me to fully embrace my sexuality and I am a much better person because of it. Everyone has the right to be happy, everyone has the right to love themselves. It is only through this self-love that we can access our sexuality and become comfortable with, and accepting of who we are.

Miss Meatface is quite an over-the-top persona, with all the maximalist patterns and surrealist elements, but what does Kat Toronto’s daily life look like?

Compared to Miss Meatface’s life of glitz and glamour, Kat Toronto has a pretty banal daily routine. Usually, I start my morning off drinking copious amounts of green tea whilst doing admin (replying to emails, filling webshop orders, etc.). If I have a shoot planned, it will usually be in the evening so I will spend most of the day prepping for that. My partner and I also run Resistance Gallery, a performing arts space here in East London, which takes up a large part of my day as well.

Your artistic life is very similar to Frida Kahlo’s, who found solace in portraits after multiple surgeries. Do you relate to her art in any way? Who are the artists that you draw inspiration from?

I’ve been a fan of Frida Kahlo’s from an early age but her work definitely took on a newly found intensity when my own health problems began. When I was a child my father would take me to the SFMOMA where I was introduced to the work of Diane Arbus and Cindy Sherman which left a huge impression on me. As a young adult at art college, I discovered the work of Pierre Molinier, EJ Bellocq, and the vintage fetish magazines of the 1950s, ’60s, and '70s like AtomAge Magazine, Exotique, and Dressing for Pleasure. My family has been a major factor in inspiring and influencing my artwork as well: my dad is a photographer and my mom is a textile artist and illustrator.

“The concept of femininity and womanhood is something that is always in flux for me...I don’t know if I’ll ever reach any kind of final conclusion—and if I did reach a final conclusion, would it mean the end of Miss Meatface?”

Walk us through your creative process for the Miss Meatface photos.

Often my Miss Meatface photoshoot inspiration comes from the discovery of an object. I visit thrift shops on a regular basis and I am always on the hunt for unusual and inspiring items that I can incorporate into photoshoots. The amount of preparation and set up varies wildly for Meatface shoots. Sometimes I walk into a space and immediately think “I need to shoot here!” and then I will shoot that day or if I have the luxury to come back to it and shoot after a bit of planning I will do that. When I’ve got a hugely ornate shoot planned out I will usually enlist one person to help assist me and occasionally, I will also have someone there filming everything.

How do you think you have evolved from when Miss Meatface started to now?

Miss Meatface began as a much more sexually and emotionally raw being than she is today. I expect her to continue to evolve into something completely different in a year—or five years—from what she is right now. She takes me on some wonderful twists and turns and I’m always excited to see where she will take me next.

Lastly, what’s next for you? Is there anything you have in store that you’d like to share with us? Are you planning on doing projects outside of Miss Meatface?

I always have a handful of Meatface projects that I’m working on at once - I can’t stand being bored! One of the projects that I’m most excited about at the moment is a book of Meatface Polaroids set to be published in spring 2020 by Circa Press here in London. The book is going to feature a curated selection of Miss Meatface Polaroid photographs that were shot between 2014 - 2018, with international Meatface photo exhibitions in conjunction with its release. I am also delighted to have a piece in the 28th annual “Take Home A Nude” art party and auction at Sotheby’s to benefit the New York Academy of Art on October 15th along with a selection of other artists from The Untitled Space in New York City.

Originally published on Status Magazine

Written by Casey Eridio

Art by Mario Zavalla

Photos Courtesy of Kat Toronto