Designer Tom Ford once told Details magazine: "There's one indulgence every man should try in his lifetime. If you're straight, sleep with a man at least once, and if you're gay, don't go through life without sleeping with a woman."
Gucci's sartorial savant could—pardon the following phrase—"get away with" that—pardon the following adjective—"edgy" quote since he's an out gay man. Having already wandered away from the heteronormative fold, of course it's fine for him to explore both male and female physical contact. A straight guy saying that? Whoa, buddy, you've gotta be gay. Because male bisexuality doesn't exist, right? Oh, wait.
We pay a curious amount of attention to blue jeans specifically, a staple wardrobe item in virtually any wardrobe, both young and old. Despite Lee Jeans proclaiming in 2010 that "real men" suffer from "shop-a-phobia" and couldn't give a hoot about finding the perfect pair, the type of jeans a man slips on nevertheless seems to say a lot about how he projects his masculinity and sexuality (which is probably the culprit of the bogus shop-a-phobia). And who are these "real men," anyway? Are they the ones outfitted in Garth Brooks-y cowboy bootcut Wranglers or skin-tight indie rock frontman fare? Or are they one who prefer the saggy and baggy, or distressed and bedazzled? So many choices, so many (unnecessary?) implications about what started as a practical, durable pant for California gold miners.
I doubt that many people will feel the need to shell out good money to find out if their son is gay using such suspect methods. But I imagine some desperate young men will buy it themselves and be taught they can change their sexuality by suppressing their gender identity. Some young gay men will be identified as straight because they enjoy stereotypically masculine activities and some young straight men will once again hear the message that every activity that isn't Shark Punching or Lady Ogling is, like, the gayest thing ever. Not that there's anything wrong with that! The choice is completely up to you! You can either pass the test or witness your sainted mother bawling her eyes out about never having grandchildren! As she clutches empty photo albums and screams "The App told me to accept it but I can't!"
The first panel of the third row is by far my favorite, contrasting the dominant culture's reaction to two forms of sexual attraction. From private conversations I've had with gay men in the past I know that some of them believe that this is evidence that same sex attraction is easier for women than men, but both reactions are harmful and disgusting. In the second, the sight or idea of two men being affectionate (or even sitting "unnaturally close to each other, effeminately rubbing elbows and exchanging doe-eyes") makes the viewer repulsed, angry, uncomfortable, or violent and leads to immediate policing by word or action. But in the first a personal act of affection is being extruded through another person's fetish and commodified for that person's pleasure and consumption. Having a narrative forced onto your love life isn't fun or easy for anyone. Additionally, the same man declaring two women kissing is hot can become violent very quickly if his advances are met with anything less than enthusiasm.
I started rounding up my weight, started posting pictures of myself displaying my less photogenic qualities—if I was going to get rejected, it was going to be right at the start. Every time I'd meet a man in real life that I found attractive I would reject him immediately. "Nice try, sexy dude asking too many questions about my shirt. If I wanted you you'd just reject me so I reject you first and also leave me alone, I'm busy." Two months later I met the same guy on Gay.com and we got halfway through our first date before he remembered seeing me and flirting with me, and I felt really, really embarrassed that I had been so willfully obtuse. This same scenario played itself out repeatedly, although sometimes the guy just walked away and I never saw him again.
Tired of hearing that musicians of the last twenty years (or just the ones you like) have unprecedentedly filthy minds? Welcome to a blast-from-the-past BitchTape that speaks for itself! Track list and space for your own faves after the jump.
Relative to Breillat's other movies, 2001's Fat Girl is fairly tame until its problematic conclusion. Documenting the misadventures of fifteen-year-old Elena (Roxane Mesquida) and her younger sister Anaïs (Reboux) while on a family vacation, the movie highlights the disparity between the girls' attitudes toward sex despite their shared virginity. The older sister, who is slender and conventionally attractive, is interested in entertaining men's spirited advances and harbors a romantic naïveté when embarking on a dalliance with Italian law student Fernando (Libero De Rienzo) that she mistakes as more than a fling. Though only twelve, Anaïs, whose beauty is often ignored because of her size, is far more cynical. She wants her first time to be with someone she does not love and watches in horror as her sister gets played, her warnings ignored.