My friend Mattie is in a relationship with the fella you see above — that would be Peter. Isn’t he gorgeous? Peter, aka. Pusse Couture, is a both a makeup artist and drag queen here in New York City. He also works at Luck Cheng’s around the corner from me, so whenever I need a dab of lovely in my life, I head that way. I also go hoping to figure out exactly how one walks in five inch heels without eating it every other step. I never learn a lesson; I just gaze and ponder.
I’ve often asked Mattie if it’s weird to him when Peter comes home in his attire and they start to get all hot and heavy. As a gay man, is it strange to peel the layers of stereotypical women’s clothing from your boyfriend when you’re clearly not into the ladies at all? “Not really. I know what’s underneath.” That was his answer.
I used to hang around this guy who would occasionally put on my clothes. I’d walk out of the bathroom and there he’d be in my underwear in the living room, trying his best to keep his balls in my tiny cotton boy shorts. The first time made me think of Silence of the Lambs, the second time I laughed, and by the third, fourth and other times that followed, it just seemed strange to me. Sometimes he’d remove them soon after he put them on, other times he’d keep them on all night if we weren’t going out. He’d also put on other other articles of my clothing from time to time and wear them around the apartment, but that was done in more of a fat-shaming way because I wasn’t as skinny as he was. He was swell.
But the underwear thing — what would compel a man to put on ladies’ undies? With all that “stuff” they have down there, it can’t be comfortable at all. And aesthetically, as a straight woman, it’s a complete turn off and, yes, makes me think of this scene from Silence of the Lambs, although he isn’t wearing underwear and is, instead, just pulling the “man-gina.” Granted, this is one of my favorite movies in the world, but it’s not what I want to be thinking about when I’m fucking my boyfriend.
Photo: Leland Bobbe