Although stereotyping can be diagnostically misleading, and is politically incorrect, there is no doubt that many gay men show a liking for particular forms of dress. These may even become part of a uniform and, therefore, help mutual recognition and provide reassurance. The clothing, voice and mannerisms of most gay men are indistinguishable from those of the average straight man. You would also like to know whether a feeling of being sexually aroused by various items of clothing — in your case, black leather, rubber wellingtons and plimsolls — is a sign that you are a covert homo sexual. No, it is not. This feeling you experience is fetishism.

Fetishism can influence homosexual and heterosexual people but is slightly more common in those who are heterosexual and in men rather than women. The problem with fetishism is to know when it can be considered abnormal.

Most people regard it as excessive if fetishism interferes with standard sexual relations. In these cases masturbation while in contact with the object is substituted for sexual intercourse. But another way in which it could become excessive is when a partner may have to be persuaded to partake in the fetishist’s tableau despite a lack of enthusiasm. Conversely, the most innocent, for want of a better word, example of fetishism is that used by the kings and queens of fashion to enhance the sexual appeal of ever varying parts of the human body, or items of clothing — Vivienne Westwood’s bosom-enhancing bustiers are a famous example. This is acceptable, and keeps the tills ringing. Eye-catching fashion serves only to attract someone’s attention and once attracted the hope should be that the man’s or woman’s interest will not be confined to the fashionable object but directed to the charms and personality of the whole person.

Incidentally, when the object of fetish is directed towards some particular part of the body it is referred to as partialism.

Scent, whether out of a bottle or from the pores of the skin, can also be a powerful arouser.

Fashion leaders manipulate the desires of their public so that different parts of the female body are emphasised. In the Victorian era the focus was on waists and hips. This changed to legs before the Second World War after which the American preoccupation with breasts became universal (breasts had previously enjoyed emphasis in the Regency period). The fashion pages have decreed that there is now a shift towards bottoms rather than breasts. The same pattern of behaviour also applies to women. Even a glance through old books will show how the image of the sexually attractive male has changed down the ages.

The types of inanimate objects which fetishists find arousing vary. Underwear, bras, stockings, and in an earlier age suspenders, often served as the focus of enthusiasms. Shoes must rank only just behind underwear as an object of arousal — incidentally, feet are not an uncommon focus for partialism, particularly in the Far East, but this fetish is found throughout the world. Some men are turned on by silk, others by fur or, in your case, by rubber.

Kinsey believed that there was an association between fetishism and sadomasochism and certainly leather and rubber have been linked to them when they are favoured by either sex.

Everything and nothing, depending on how naively Freudian you want to play it. Truth be told, there’s a whole lot of sexuality going down in costume but not especially confined to the wearer. Take the fashion industry paradigm in which gay men design clothes for straight women to lure straight men by making them look like boys. Alternately, women scarred by being on the receiving end of too many Alan Partridge-style sartorial decisions might answer: “The better a man dresses, the less heterosexuality he can lay claim to.” But this is a grotesque over-simplification that can really only be applied to all British men.

Anyway, forgive me, and the problem here is . . . ? You say you are confused. I, in turn, am confused by your confusion. Some people like the smell of baking bread. Some people crave freshly mown lawns. Some, I am told, even admire the scent of Old Spice. You like to sniff out footwear. Well, you and the whole of womankind, my friend. And how would this qualify as homosexual behaviour unless the leather in question involved studded caps accompanied by Village People moustaches? I think the question we’re stumbling towards here is: “Am I a fetishist?” And the answer I’m stumbling towards in turn is: “Maybe, who cares?” Technically, a fetish qualifies as a fetish only if you cannot have it away without it. My learned friend opposite takes a more clinical view. But I am of the mind that we are all prey to fetishes; some are merely more socially acceptable than others. Many people tend to go for a physical type so that their partners come to resemble a series of clumsily differentiated clones. Others fall into the habit of having sex only at a particular place or time (Saturday night, ten minutes after closing time, being the convention for Brits). Missionary sex is probably the most widespread fetish and prolonged sex with the same person might arguably be considered a fetish of sorts. OK, I’m being deliberately perverse but you take my point. Fetish is just a way of saying habitual with knobs on.

Moreover, a fetish gets in your way as a fetish only if you or the person you are pursuing it with objects to the monotony of always having to have it on the scene. If it’s bothering you or bothering someone you are bothered about then do something about it. Otherwise, just enjoy it. So there we are, a moral of sorts: go forth and do what, or whomever, you have to do, just so long as you don’t hurt anybody. Unless, of course, this is a way in which they enjoy being hurt. Or, indeed, unless this person is wannabe German cannibal fodder in which case all my liberal platitudes break down.

To see you on your way may I take it upon myself to make a few fragrance recommendations? Knize Ten and Gomma by Etro, both available from the perfume emporium Les Senteurs, are guaranteed to delight you. Knize is devilishly leathery; Gomma (the Italian for rubber), reeks of hot tyres. Les Senteurs also sells perfumes emulating the odour of leather boots. For the lady in your life, Piguet’s Bandit (also said to smell of worn knickers), Caron’s Tabac Blond and Cabochard by Gr és all feature leather notes (the former is available at Harvey Nicks, the latter two at Harrods).

And thank you for allowing me to go out with a bang, as it were. This will be my last Agony and Ecstasy column as it’s time to return to the day job. I leave you in the capable hands of Dr Tom and the acclaimed sex writer and columnist Suzi Godson. It has been a peculiar pleasure.

OVER TO YOU

Do you have a sexual dilemma for Suzi Godson and Dr Thomas Stuttaford? Send your e-mails to body&soul@thetimes.co.uk or write to Body&Soul, The Times, 1 Pennington Street, London E98 1TT. The authors regret that although letters are much appreciated, they cannot respond personally.