BOYS IN SHORT SHORTS
Ohmygawd, I found this photo slide of me from the early 90s. It was buried in my closet, which is kind of funny, considering I look sooo damn…shall we say…out of the closet. I think I was like 12-years old (cough-cough). I know we all have one of those “what the fuck was I wearing” moments when we look at some of our past pictures…but seriously people…what the FUCK was I wearing? Did I really smack the open pavement in tight tiny short shorts, a spaghetti tank top, white socks and black Doc Martin boots!?
I did. And I didn’t care.
I totally remember this slutty photo. I used to pose for student photographers and sit for artists back in the day when photo slide film existed (you can see the photog’s knee in the image between my legs). I think I’m supposed to be wrecking havoc around the lazy town of Sherman Oaks in this image, but I don’t think I’m very convincing with those long stringy legs and that flat little butt.
Clearly, once my mother found out (meaning once it was confirmed) that I was born a certain way, I didn’t give a sky high flying muther fucking FUCK who knew, or what people thought about my being gay—not my neighbors, other family members or strangers on the street. Judging from my young getup in this here slide, it’s obvious that I had funny ideas about myself. I used to dress like this all the time, which wouldn’t have been a big deal had I not grown in the rough streets of Inglewood—seriously, what was I doing walking around in tiny short shorts? Who was I trying to impress or attract? Was I begging for a beating? Did I do it to make a point? Was this a big fuck you, I’m-here-I’m-queer-get-used-to-it–back when being here and queer meant something? Or maybe I just liked showing off my long and luscious legs…
I guess it is what it is and it was what it was. And that’s who I was at the time with no need to explain or apologize (like my favorite Chinese Fortune cookie says: Never explain. Your friends don’t need it and your enemies will never believe it.
Needless to say, I’m still out and I’m proud as a grownup. But these dayz, I keep the shit simple and conduct myself like a good Catholic school girl. My shorts are no more than two inches above the knee.