Awhile back, I got a question in the chat from reader Spenser Lee-Koch Vogel. They asked, “would like to hear how you came to terms with your sexuality.” I’d been sitting on this question, wondering how to answer it without coming off as glib or overly facile. For those that don’t know, I’m bi, or at least a reasonable facsimile. I say that last bit because, like a lot of bi people, I’m in a long-term straight relationship. It seems like it doesn’t count. I just go through my life the same way I did before my ex, the extremely gay comedian and podcaster Halle Kiefer, convinced me it was time to talk about it publicly.
It strikes me as a privilege and a luxury to walk through life seeming totally straight. Unless someone asked or I offered up the information freely, no one would know. What made answering this question feel more urgent was the recent murder of O’Shae Sibley, a gay man who was stabbed at a gas station in Brooklyn for simply dancing in a way that made some homophobes uncomfortable. O’Shea was living his life, being his authentic self in public, and he was killed for it.
Hate crimes like this are becoming more common every day. American state and federal government institutions are legislating against queer people. The right is attempting to criminalize and marginalize queerness with a ferocity that seemed impossible just a decade ago. How does me being bi even matter in this climate when I’m comfortably living a straight lifestyle?
But the more I’ve thought about it the last few days, the more vital I think it is to be vocal. To be as authentic as O’Shae. As Halle often says to me, queerness is not just about sex. It’s a culture, a community, a means of being completely free in a world that often seeks to control you and inhibit your expression.
To answer Spenser’s question, the way I came to terms with my sexuality was nothing more than the revolutionary act of accepting myself. I’m attracted to all kinds of people. Men, trans women, nonbinary people. Some people might call that poly or pan, but I think that starts getting into open relationship/swinger territory that quite frankly runs counter to my intense need for attention and companionship. If I have to share affection with a bunch of people in an orgy, I’m absolutely going to start getting jealous. My worst nightmare is being the 9th hitter in the lineup and striking out looking on three pitches.
The point is, my sexuality has been this way for a long time. It’s just that I thought it was weird, something to be squirrel away into a tiny corner of my brain and never talked about. I compartmentalized it, hid it, and kept quiet. That was unfair. Specifically, it was unfair to me. I was harming myself psychically by not integrating all aspects of myself. Years of being told I “seemed gay” or “acted gay” made the prospect of just being queer terrifying. “What if all these kids at school were right?”
Well, they were! Sort of. I’m very much of the belief that sexuality is a spectrum, that we all contain a multitude of sexual proclivities and that one of the great tragedies of life is that so many of us have to pretend. I’ll probably only ever be in relationships with cis women, because that’s what feels right for me. But to pretend that I’m not also attracted to other gender expressions would be a lie. And The Lie is what allows homophobia to fester and grow.
Halle and I broke up last year after a brief engagement, because she realized after 38 years that she was a lesbian. I was devastated to think that I had lost someone who I thought would be my partner forever. Instead of running away from the relationship we built out of hurt and rejection, I suggested we go to couples counseling. We did that for a few months, giving each other the space to talk, to be angry, and to cry with each other. It was something like a grieving period for the both of us. Not just a mourning of the end of our romance, but also of the damage The Lie did to us our entire adult lives.
It was after that that I was able to fully be present in the idea that I wasn’t straight, no matter how hard I tried to be. Despite what some might want you to believe, you can’t regulate healthy adult expressions of sexuality. It’s unnatural and cruel and impossible to do. We all yearn to be free, and no amount of bullying, intimidation, or violence can stop that.
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On a slightly less intense topic, I recently bought a vintage Versace V2 three-button wool blazer from TheRealReal. For those that don’t know, V2 was a diffusion line of Gianni Versace. A “diffusion line” being cheaper, slightly shittier clothes made by a luxury house to sell to middle-class snobs who can’t afford couture. For example, DKNY is a diffusion line of Donna Karan. Y’s is a diffusion line of Yohji Yamamoto, a designer I love that has more diffusion lines than I have pairs of socks. Maybe the most famous diffusion line of our time is Marc by Marc Jacobs, a brand so successful that hardly anyone remembers that regular Marc Jacobs exists. Anyway, V2 is defunct now, and I bought this jacket that TheRealReal did not properly label as V2:
I’ve gone fully down the well-trodden path of 90s nostalgia, best articulated by my Jewish style sibling Jason Diamond (who a mutual friend, David Moltz of the DS&Durga fragrance brand once called “The New York Dave Schilling”) in GQ. He referred to this phenomenon of millennials embracing the 90s aesthetic as “Bistro Vibes,” and I wish I had thought of it.
I have numerous Swatch watches, wire frame glasses, a braided leather belt, and now multiple three-button blazers from brands like Versace and my all-time favorite, Giorgio Armani. This is all preamble for my dilemma: the Versace V2 jacket had moths.
I buy a lot of stuff from TheRealReal. I’m lazy and hate sifting through anonymous racks of clothes at vintage stores. I like the ease of aimlessly scrolling, setting size filters, and finding something I (usually) know will fit. Sometimes, what I get in the mail is not what I expected. The condition is worse than the app alleged, the size tag has been removed and the clothes don’t fit, or inexplicably, what they said was a black jacket is actually dark navy blue. All things that actually happened to me.
What hadn’t happened to me until now was getting moths. TheRealReal says they clean everything, but twice I opened my closet (well, one of my three closets — this jacket was in the overflow with the wackest jawnz I own that I simply haven’t had the time to donate) and a moth flew out.
I googled what to do about this, because it has truly never happened. As you’d expect, there’s a surplus of bizarre at-home remedies. I’m not trying to spend my days pouring vinegar on my clothes or filling up a bowl with talcum powder or whatever the fuck. I did the most sensible thing on the list and went to the dry cleaner. When I told the callow youth behind the register that my jacket had moths, he looked at me like I just admitted I had an active case of Ebola and my eyes would start bleeding very soon.
“Are there moths in here now,” he asked. I sighed and said I don’t know, because they lay eggs in the wool that we can’t see. I mistakenly assumed this young man would know exactly what to do and how to clean a jacket with moths. He did not. He just said he’d try to get the jacket back to me on Saturday (which is tomorrow, as I’m writing this).
The moral of this story, if there is one, is to always get your vintage clothes dry cleaned the minute they arrive in the post. In my zeal to integrate new pieces into my rotation, I’ve eschewed this vital step and it led to an interaction that was embarrassing for everyone because neither of us knew what the fuck to do. That said, this blazer fits perfectly, I look like I’m stepping out on the red carpet in 1994, and is going to be a major part of my fall/winter rotation this year. Being a vintage head comes with risk, but the rewards are sweet.
Next week, we’ll talk about my style pilgrimage to Mexico City — the swaggiest metropolis on Earth right now. The week after that, I’ll answer a reader question about the neckerchief trend that’s sweeping LA and NY. And don’t forget to ask me MORE questions in our chat.
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