Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink – girls and gays
Well, me and gays, really. I remember always finding the gay world hugely alluring when I was a kid. It seemed an exotic, fabulous world full of parties and great outfits. I remember when I started clubbing as a teenager I met a boy who was camp as you like and I thought he was the most fabulous creature I’d ever seen. Then he vanished into the smokey dancefloor and I went back to shaking it to Janet Jackson.
When I went to film school the two films I wrote and directed featured gay boys as the main characters – I have no idea where these ideas came from. One film was called ‘The Queen of Beef Week’ and was about a boy who entered the competition not realising it was more about the beef rather than the queens. The actor was a year 12 boy called Tony and he was perfect. He sashayed around in the cowprint vest and shorts I made him (it was the 90s) and proudly wore his tiara. He was amazing. And I got a good grade for the film. (As for the other film I did, well, I don’t really speak of it. It’s a Voldemort situation for me.)
So, back to the gays. When I moved to London in 2005 I was like Alice but instead of falling down a rabbit hole, I fell down a gay hole. One so deep I doubt I’ll ever climb out of it (or want to). My wife in London was a fagnet too so we spent 4 years partying together in a gay hole (aside from a few nights out dancing to 90s hip hop and eyeing off smokin' hot black boys). Sometimes we would question how and why this gayhole happened. Why do we love gay men so much? Why do they love us?
It perplexed me as being a gay man has never been a prerequisite for being my friend – I only have two criteria: smart and funny. Although I'm not gonna lie, I do have an affinity with many gay men. It’s not hard to apply a bit of pop psych as to why I love gay men so much. It’s a ‘safe’ relationship to have with a man with no threat of sex being thrown on the table (and pretty much all through my late teens and 20s, I’d always end up sleeping with my straight male friends. It just happens!). Oh yes and let me state here that the word ‘gay’ throws a freakin’ huge net. I am only speaking for ‘my’ gays though – a disparate group of 10 or so friends in my life that I treasure.
I also love gay men because of the thoughtfulness (remembering the little things) and domesticity (understanding of cleanliness) and style (love an outfit as much as I do) and handsomeness (easy on the eye is always fine by me). It's like having a boyfriend without all the crap of compromise. (What about sex you say? Urgh. I have been advised to stop saying it but I feel dead from the waist down right now.) Oh, also the quick wit. As I like to think of myself as a woman with a sharp tongue and love a throwaway nasty quip, you have to think quickly on your twinkle toes to keep up with the boys sometimes. I love the challenge.
As to why gay boys are drawn to me, I’m not exactly sure. I suspect it’s because I’m a bit mouthy at times. And I love to cook. And I also dance like a slapper.
It’s been a tough first year back in Melbourne. Settling back in and making new friends and reconnecting with old ones and trying to feel like I belong again has been tricky. The pieces all seemed to fall into place though when I finally found some boys that I ‘could be me’ around. I felt I'd truly come home.
Since watching True Blood I’ve decided that most of the time I think I’m LaFayette on the inside – a gay black man trapped in a white girl’s body. Let’s see… he’s mouthy, he loves to cook and he certainly dances like a slapper. And we both rock a do-rag.
When I went to film school the two films I wrote and directed featured gay boys as the main characters – I have no idea where these ideas came from. One film was called ‘The Queen of Beef Week’ and was about a boy who entered the competition not realising it was more about the beef rather than the queens. The actor was a year 12 boy called Tony and he was perfect. He sashayed around in the cowprint vest and shorts I made him (it was the 90s) and proudly wore his tiara. He was amazing. And I got a good grade for the film. (As for the other film I did, well, I don’t really speak of it. It’s a Voldemort situation for me.)
So, back to the gays. When I moved to London in 2005 I was like Alice but instead of falling down a rabbit hole, I fell down a gay hole. One so deep I doubt I’ll ever climb out of it (or want to). My wife in London was a fagnet too so we spent 4 years partying together in a gay hole (aside from a few nights out dancing to 90s hip hop and eyeing off smokin' hot black boys). Sometimes we would question how and why this gayhole happened. Why do we love gay men so much? Why do they love us?
It perplexed me as being a gay man has never been a prerequisite for being my friend – I only have two criteria: smart and funny. Although I'm not gonna lie, I do have an affinity with many gay men. It’s not hard to apply a bit of pop psych as to why I love gay men so much. It’s a ‘safe’ relationship to have with a man with no threat of sex being thrown on the table (and pretty much all through my late teens and 20s, I’d always end up sleeping with my straight male friends. It just happens!). Oh yes and let me state here that the word ‘gay’ throws a freakin’ huge net. I am only speaking for ‘my’ gays though – a disparate group of 10 or so friends in my life that I treasure.
I also love gay men because of the thoughtfulness (remembering the little things) and domesticity (understanding of cleanliness) and style (love an outfit as much as I do) and handsomeness (easy on the eye is always fine by me). It's like having a boyfriend without all the crap of compromise. (What about sex you say? Urgh. I have been advised to stop saying it but I feel dead from the waist down right now.) Oh, also the quick wit. As I like to think of myself as a woman with a sharp tongue and love a throwaway nasty quip, you have to think quickly on your twinkle toes to keep up with the boys sometimes. I love the challenge.
As to why gay boys are drawn to me, I’m not exactly sure. I suspect it’s because I’m a bit mouthy at times. And I love to cook. And I also dance like a slapper.
It’s been a tough first year back in Melbourne. Settling back in and making new friends and reconnecting with old ones and trying to feel like I belong again has been tricky. The pieces all seemed to fall into place though when I finally found some boys that I ‘could be me’ around. I felt I'd truly come home.
Since watching True Blood I’ve decided that most of the time I think I’m LaFayette on the inside – a gay black man trapped in a white girl’s body. Let’s see… he’s mouthy, he loves to cook and he certainly dances like a slapper. And we both rock a do-rag.
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