FAG HAGS FOREVER

By MICHELLE YORK

Flame dames are an integral part of gay culture. Succinctly put, a fag hag is not, not only, what she identifies as (usually a straight woman), but more importantly who she identifies with (gay men). The gardenvariety fag hag has been the protector of gay men throughout history, whether you like them or not. And you really should!

Let’s stroll back through time. Long before sexual liberation women willingly offered themselves as “beards” keeping their fey friends safe. Having a “homo honey” on your arm in the early 1900s was a fashion must-have if you valued your freedom, as homosexuality could lead to social exile, arrests and even physical attacks. Lavender marriages with “queen bees” were quite common as both lesbian and gay men had to conform to societal norms. Sadly, some dames didn’t quite cotton on to the fact that hubby might be trying on her frocks while she was out at high tea. Disturbingly, even in our current society there are lavender marriages. You only have to cast your eyes to Hollywood and the persistent rumours about blockbuster superstars like Tom and John and wonder why they don’t have lavender gemstones on the ring fingers of some of those “wives”.

Lavender Marriages (and relationships) thrived in golden era Hollywood, where homosexual activity became grounds for blacklisting actors. Think Rock Hudson, James Dean, Spencer Tracey, Carey Grant and a multitude more. The “sewing circle” list, a Tinseltown euphemism for girl-on-girl, was rather extensive too and included Katharine Hepburn, Marlene Dietrich, Greta Garbo, Tallulah Bankhead and Joan Crawford. Whether they were protected by hags or stags there were enough beards to keep them all on the silver screen and adored by clueless fans. When Rock Hudson eventually came out it caused a media furore.

Some famous folks just can’t get enough. Great gay icon and “handbag” Judy Garland’s father was rumoured to have had more than the odd homosexual dalliance. Judy’s loving relationship with her gentle dad is believed to be the reason she married more than one gay man. Judy encouraged her daughter, Liza Minnelli, to “marry a perfectly wonderful man who was a dancer”. The dancer was hardly the only marriage old Liz had with gay men. That’s what you call keeping it in the family. The classic “flame dames”, like Liza, were theatrical, brassy and unconventional. The Lizas, Bettes and Lizzes bonded with gay men over shared feelings of social rejection, a love of camp and a shared love of men!

Fast forward to the 1970s where social attitudes began to thaw slightly (although it did take a little longer in South Africa) as the sexual revolution raged. Coincidentally it was in the ‘70s that the phrase “fag hag” was coined to describe feminist women who wished to align themselves with gay men in their fight for equality. Many in the gay community considered their fight for equality as separate from a gendered fight, and they thus coined a phrase to distance themselves from their feminist peers. It didn’t matter. In “straight” circles it was the hags that were first to scold friends for using derogatory terms to describe gays. These throwbacks of the olden days pumped their fists at pride marches, stood in long lines to buy tickets to Beaches along with their gay friends, cried as their friends contracted AIDS and celebrated when gays won the right to marry.

‘90s Mainstream TV shows like Will & Grace and Sex and the City and movies like My Best Friend’s Wedding popularised the gay man/straight woman relationship. Not to mention the cult-classic Queer as Folk. It made it fashionable, and I think this is where problems arose. Next gen fag hags started considering a gay BFF as a fashion accessory – a pair of Jimmy Choos for the soul. Straight women everywhere were probably rushing over to gay men demanding a shopping trip and a mani-pedi hoping to foster their very own Will for their Grace. I’ve always been more of a Karen Walker myself…

I have never actively sought out gay men in social settings, we just seem to gravitate toward each other and often I don’t even know they are gay until much later. This usually elicits an “Oh!! Now I get why I like you so much!” response from me. I am a genetic fag hag, and I don’t find the term derogatory at all. I am rather proud of it. I don’t question why I have such an immensely strong bond with gay men, I am just glad I do.

Fag hags are a global phenomenon – the French refer to us as soeurettes (little sisters), the German brand us as schwulen-muttis (gay mums), and the Mexicans know us as joteras (“jota” is commonly used for “fag”). In Japan, we are called okoge, translated literally as “the burnt rice that sticks to the bottom of the pot.” With more than 68 countries in the world where being gay is still a punishable offence, there are women like me being allies to the cause all over.

Call me a queer dear or fruitfly or fish or handbag or queen bee or homo honey or fruit loop or Goldilocks or flame dame or fairy princess or gayboy bunny, I don’t care. Call me. If there is ever a royal wedding again – there’s nothing I love more than some good aristocrats and a queen to watch it with.