
Gay magazines. Who buys them anyway? They are more talked about then actually purchased, one suspects. They are not doing well. Yes, I know, the circ numbers...as a veteran of the magazine business I can personally assure you those numbers are bogus. They are created, spinned and conjured to simply suggest to advertisers that there is a BIG audience out there, waiting to spend your gay dollars. To suggest that they are popular is a bit like saying the US Postal Service is doing well since the advent of email. More and more people get their kicks, their information and their entertainment on the flickering screen of a computer monitor than at a magazine kiosk. And much has to do with relevance. How relevant are gay magazines to our lives? What can they do, that a blog cannot? To explore these questions, we had to turn to the most current issues and their covers.
Covers are like posters, they should reveal quintessential information about the magazine...they are in essence, like a handshake, a first impression. Here's my impressions: Instinct: who is he? Who in the hell styled that? "zap! pow! snikt!" Huh? This is a really atrocious cover. Genre: sex sells and they are selling it. As bodies go, this model is as good as it gets, but darling, why so unhappy? The model appears to be in doctor’s office before a testicle exam. It's a wish cover: I wish I could touch that, I wish I could look like that. We call that wishful thinking. Out: oh dear, a boy on a horse. The boy is model Chad White of Dolce & Gabbana fame. Presumably straight (aren't all models?) we are tantalized with the coverline, "only my young master can ride me!" which is presumably the horse talking. Sexy indeed. And the photos by Francois Rousseau are magical, unique and ah, very equestrian. I have no idea why a straight man riding a horse should be on the cover of something called "out". It's a sexy mystery.
The Advocate: it's gay pride issue, though the thought that every issue might have some pride springs to mind. And what an interesting choice, the lovely T.R. Knight, an actor who came out, not gladly (or glaadly), but seemed to embrace the attention with a nice mixture of humility and honesty. Strapped to his shoulders is presumably his best friend, the dog. Woodsy, butch, unshaven and canine loving, yes I'm proud.
Four covers, four different demographics and you know what? I can't relate. I don't want to be over styled wearing that silly belt, even if I am visiting Palm Springs. I salute any man that has that much time and devotion to his abs, and I would certainly be smiling. I will only see Equus if Chad White is starring in it; that little Harry Potter guys means nothing to me, now. And T.R., I'm sorry you failed that big test Grey's Anatomy, and honestly, I don't get your relationship with Callie AT ALL. But we both love dogs.
Not one of these covers takes a risk of suggesting anything about GAY LIFE. Everyone is alone or with their favorite pet. There is no romance, no love, no hint of what it is that makes me a homo: I love men.
You know what I don't get to see enough of: affection between men. Men kissing. Oh, I'm sorry, Calvin won't advertise although he has spent most of his life kissing men? Oh, how about a story about Calvin Klein, there's a man with a story, REALLY interesting story. Oh, you need those underwear ads, ok, sorry to ask. That's right, what I want on the cover of my GAY magazine are men kissing. Good looking, hot, shoving it down the throat, kiss my ass polite society kinda kissing. I want my models touching. Screw the modeling agencies and their queen managers who "protect" their models. Good enough for fashion shots, but strictly TNT (tight no touch)? I don't want straight models are who are "tolerant". I want to see something interesting and interested in my lifestyle. Everything has become so god damned safe. You might argue that the interior fashion spread of Chad White is pretty daring for an American magazine. We see buns; we see hints of pubic hair. Fine. Let me see another man touching those buns.
Magazines can never compete with sexual imagery on the net. But magazines do have one thing that blogs do not: they are palpable. Touching paper is not like touching the screen, nor is reading for that matter. It's about the package and I don't mean that package. It's about how you showcase it. And with few exceptions, most notably fantasticsmag.com, few blogs showcase anything other than words and pictures confined to small squares. It's not the same. So while editors and publishers ponder their next career move, we are left with magazines that seem frightfully bound to advertising constraints. It is about the money. And until someone decides that gay men want more than sexy pictures of straight men or gay men with their pets, until someone decides to write about something really controversial (outing is so 80s) or enlighten, explore and reveal some nuance to gay life that we haven't already seen, we are going to keep reading our blogs, not your magazines.