So what’s the world like for a fag hag? If you are familiar with the show Absolutely Fabulous then you a) are a fag or hag, b) know what it’s all about, c) let Patsy play the fag role. Being a fag hag can be fab hag! Imagine days filled with talks of booze, boys you will never have (he likes straight, you va) and of course, fashion fashion.
It’s the ideal relationship, you have a constant companion who calls way too much, makes it a point to eat in only fight restaurants, slaps your hand when you reach for a dinner roll making Dr. Atkins roll in his grave, lets you sleep with other boys and giggles about it with you the next day, agrees that pre-lunch martinis are acceptable (old fashioned in fact just ask his goddess Judy), will hold your hand and cry with you while you watch An Affair to Remember for the nth time, recall with a photographic memory every slapping scene done by Maricel and Ate Vi and will never complain when you want to go shopping. The only problem may be that he will probably dress better than you, but a competitive edge is always welcome for fight gals!
My grandmother once told me that if I hang out with too many gay men I’d end up a grumpy spinster. I looked with deep fascination at the doilies that she was crocheting and thought they would make good pasties on me and my pals. I mean can she stop complaining really? As a growing kid at home she should be thankful that my stereos were not blaring with incomprehensible rock music and boomed Kylie and Madonna instead. Although I can understand where she was indeed coming from .A date made from fladoodle metal may find himself daunted in the company of extremely fight and drunken company.
For males in love with a hag: You see dating a fag hag comes with its own set of repercussions admittedly. First of all, there is a big chance she is shallow but in a very Lifestyle Channel kind of way. She’ll start making you over with your clothes, then your hair and maybe give you a chic nickname like Dah-ling. She only does this to quell powder room talk about your straight man taste. It’s nothing personal, she cares you should know that. She will get you to hate bread too and start drinking colored tipples named after resort islands. You will find that scotch will be a distant memory like breastmilk and defend your choice during poker night that you truly are taken by your rainbow poison (Dude, it’s just like Tang!). You will need to listen to a lot of Kylie, Madge and George. Then you will realize that you like them. Then before you know it, usually after peeling off a thick layer of cosmopolitan hangover for the Madonna icon party the night before, you realize you are one of those damn metrosexuals (first it was preppy, then it’s this pretentious term and up comes as my friend from advertising coins it inspired by Link TV bi-curious and discreet) from the post-postmodern Animal Farm. You will hate yourself, break up with your girlfriend because you are broke from all your facials and Anthony logistics skincare and cranky from the lack of carbs. Then on a Saturday night you will miss her like crazy as you watch on MTV the Slow video of Kylie and woo her back by re-enacting the cat scene from Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
As you see the process it’s not hard to see why the boys would run for their lives. They will be broke, colorful and carbless, everything their sisters are. However, it is indeed a fulfilling life. After all doesn’t the love of your life, that clever, witty and devilishly funny fashion star, know much more than your homo erectus self?
For hags hoping for hetero action: As a rehabilitated boyfriend groupie, I defected to the rainbow coalition when I went on a long-term hiatus from the unfashionable specie. I felt free, hedonistic, whimsical – like Audrey in Funny Face. Bitchiness was welcome. Navel gazing was an accepted form of philosophy. And the world suddenly seemed much bigger just because with such an open-minded environment you realize that it truly is. So when I found a beau, first I had to deal with the jealousy from my sisters who hated that I had Blockbuster weekend nights instead of dress-up Saturdays. After weaning them from my hetero-rituals, it was time to erase the phobe from my homo. Filipino men as a majority are extremely homo-phobic. Even the seemingly cool ones are. God knows that he’s thinkin‚ that if he did do his alcohol equations right, he’d end up in a 600 thread count sheeted bed of his date’s best friend, who also would not serve him toast for breakfast (carbs...yuk!). The only way to truly go beneath their feigned interest in Kylie is to ask them two things: David Gest. If they have no idea, then you are dealing with raw meat. Which is a true test between your man and your sisters. Some just can’t deal and later on especially the seemingly cool ones will make you choose. The jerky ones will invent stories that your va sister tried to drug him by lacing his soy milk with a roofie. Then some turn in fag stags...yay!
Fag stags are great! It’s the dating version of having your cake and eating it too! If you are dating one right now, test if he’s bi-curious and discreet. If he is send him to your sister and highlight his hair to give it a little extra. If not drop down on your knees and propose to him . If that seems a bit excessive, then just drop down to your knees (hey, what are you thinking...you and your dirty mind, tsk tsk).
See all those quixotic movies of our childhood really do happen. For fag hags the great moments in life do break out in a song and dance number or at the very least resemble Kylie’s Slow video.