From fag hags to riches
A typical night out, that was. The lychee martinis kept flowing for the girls, and I kept passing it along to my pa-girls. But before we could call it a night and French exit to Gotye, the curious anomaly of that night must be pointed out. There were straight guys during Ladies Night. Lots. For someone accustomed to parties that were either too straight or too gay (I, of course, gravitate towards the latter), this was an apparition.
But all hail the great divide, as the distinction was made clear by a real pedestal — an upstairs area, populated with bro-eyes peering down for the obligatory ocular. Of course. Always within the periphery, never within close proximity. There is no middle ground with these things — that wretched Hannah Montana myth remains a myth. But once, a member of the truly male persuasion landed closer to earth (a lost lamb, perhaps?) and said to me, “No offense, but there’s really a lot of gay people here.” To which, I pointed to a group getting primal to queen Kylie Minogue and said, “Them? But… they’re my friends.”
There goes my eligibility. Cue Somebody That I Used To Know, an apt anthem for the thwarted follow-through.
Let’s file that under #faghagproblems. As a member of a predominantly queer pack, there aren’t too many, really. Only that sometimes they’re prettier than you, and aren’t too reliable as wingmen. Necessary evils — a fair barter for the company who’d gush and blush with me over apple pie shots and Lana Del Rey. Who else is going to put up with me, in the name of the short, the sheer, and the shameless? Certainly not the mythical/unicorn boyfriend. It isn’t the best of both worlds for a gay’s gal, but for closet equity’s sake, put the pity food down and remember that the pros outweigh the cons. For one, your meal ticket to menswear as womenswear without the man is your gay BFF.
The premise of the boyfriend-boyfriend jeans are long gone, like one of the trend’s initial ringleaders, Katie Holmes. The baggy, rolled-up fad was once the equivalent of the letterman jacket in high school movies: where the impressionable, romantic folk and its ilk would hope to own, basically, a wool jacket with wristbands. A more classic take on menswear and boyfriend fare are the white button-downs. You know the ones. Those that, ratified by the naturally tousled hair, insinuate walks of shame and/or post-HOHOL (“hang out, hang out lang”). Falling delicately on your shoulders and distorting your curves, it’s the sexiest anti-sexy piece you can own — or borrow.
And while back then it was really about wearing your heart up his sleeves, it isn’t anymore. Push the taste level up and consider saving room for the easiest friendship and closet upgrade, courtesy of the fag rags. Sure, keep your eyes peeled for the blazers and the button-downs that could be winged as tunics over at the women’s section, but the trick to well-executed androgyny is to keep it authentic.
No boyfriend? No problem if you’re a fag hag. I’ve made a habit out of wearing cardigans, sweaters, and jackets that aren’t my boyfriend’s (how evolved we’ve become!) and still feel good while in it. This is the Tupac hologram of sartorial illusions. You’ve got the presence of a male figure in your wardrobe, minus the extracurricular particulars. Here are a few tips to start you on the fag hag-approved, faux-beau look:
Start small. Ask your friend to lend you one of his belts, or let’s not even beat around the bush here — sandos. Those man tanks will dip low on your chest just enough. Perfect for post-workouts, or these stretches of summer days where shorter hems and side boob exposures are what you’d consider the end justifying the means. If you can’t take the heat, then why should you?
Run for cover. Two words for the still-conflicted fag hag: Closet. Extension. Your BFF will help you dress it down as well as dress it up. Guys usually allot more closet space for jackets and blazers — from denim to leather to an outgrown parka. Embrace the tailored look and rework the Annie Hall ensembles to your liking. These will come in handy on those cold nights where your pride is all you have, but hey, at least you look good.
Just go with it. You’ll always be in good hands with a gay BFF. They will take care of you, support even your less-than-stellar fashion moments and shower you with tough love. The thing with sporting a fag hag item is that there will never be strings attached, only tugging from behind to signal a J.Lo duet. The faux-beau look’s first rule is that you should return the favor by, well, returning the clothes. The second is that men’s clothing may validate you, but the fag hag arsenal will teach you to dress for yourself. Chances are there’s still a bro looking from above. Fake it ‘til you make it, ladies. Fake it ‘til you make it.
