Gay men know best!
December 5, 2003 | 12:00am
Afew months ago after staggering home (sober, just really tired from dancing in killer stilettos) from a party at a local watering hole, I flipped on the TV and caught a film made a couple of years ago that didn’t really get a lot of recognition in the entertainment industry though it boasted an extremely talented cast and an incredibly witty script full of quotable lines and thought-provoking dialogue.
It was a movie called The Broken Hearts Club, starring a wide array of good-looking Hollywood actors such as TV Superman Dean Cain, Timothy Olyphant, and Seventh Heaven’s Andrew Keegan, among others. The cast was a veritable slew of eye candy males albeit in this film all of said male eye candies were playing for the same team – the gay team.
The Broken Hearts Club is a movie about five gay friends (inspiration perhaps for such present-day shows such as Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?) who go through the usual emotional highs and lows that characterize life. The only difference is they go through it with so much more character and style than your average heterosexual. It remains a mystery but for some reason gay men seem to live on a completely different wavelength than the rest of the planet. They bring smiles and sunshine wherever they go. They’re so fun to be with and are willing to try anything. They’re funny and caring and can even pull out their hidden inner male when the need arises.
Indeed, the men of the Broken Hearts Club lived life with a passion that God-willing will someday infect us all. It’s a reality movie that portrays gay men the way they are in real life. Normal people who make up and break up and struggle to find themselves just like everyone else. They’re not always the stereotypical roles usually essayed in Hollywood films – roles like noble suffering AIDS victims, friends of noble suffering AIDS victims, and just recently, stylish confidants to lovelorn women. While gay men could be these things in real life, they are really so much more.
Indeed, I have to admit I have an incredibly large number of gay friends. I’ve been dubbed a fag magnet and honorary gay gal on many occasions. Perhaps it was my lengthy involvement in theater that introduced me to the uber-witty third sex but whatever the case may be, I happily have my share of gay confidantes. They truly are more themselves than most of the people I’ve met in my life. They know how to sparkle style and substance all at the same time. From their own indigenous language with gems like tienes, chuva, kebs, and dugyuters, they manage to color their conversation even when talking about the most mundane of things. They make great shopping partners and they always know when to just listen and keep quiet or when to tell you that you’ve landed in your current mess due to your own stupidity. They can always appreciate a bottle of fine wine and delicious cuisine. They’re flamboyant and carefree, cultured and confident, and they can talk about anything – politics, arts, science, and fashion. And all that aside, man, can these queens make me laugh!
I’ve known my share of gay men over the years and they’ve all left an indelible mark on me. Some of the first gay men I came to know well were in college. Carlo, Manu, and Marvin were my seniors in our political party. I remember noticing how straight-backed, poised and proper they sat at the tambayan despite the heat with their stylish little ensembles that seemed to transcend the weather (think long-sleeved polos and jean jackets in May). Marvin, our College of Science diva, even made carrying a "dead cat around" look trendy and many people had to be warned not to open his pre-med bag which he occasionally parked on the bench. These chic third-sex folk would talk about topics as diverse as their latest male fantasy to how well the peso was currently doing in the international market while they played games like trump and pusoy dos. They allowed everyone to join in their little card-playing circle but woe to those who made stupid mistakes during the games – they never heard the end of it. Indeed, when it comes to detraction (something I’m shamelessly bad at) gay men are the uncontested winners. Throughout college whenever I was at a loss for "zingers," Manu could always come up with some witty line that would leave people speechless. (Caveat: While gay men make fabulous friends – they make even worse enemies! Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned goes double for a gay man!)
After college came the "real world" – the work force where I learned some of the most important lessons of my life from gay friends. My first boss, one of the leading hotels’ PR head honco, taught me to never be ashamed of who I was and never to compromise my beliefs just to please someone else. He saw me through my first real heartache and helped me understand that I shouldn’t shoulder all the blame and that it takes two to tango. Not just that, he made work fun. While we were swimming through press releases and thousands of tiny little slides looking for a specific photo (not to mention working weekends and holidays) he would regale me with stories of his out-of-town trips and his current favorite films and plays. He managed to maintain a smile even when I knew that inside he was upset. I have to admit, gay men are the perfect PR folk – they always know how to smile through anything and maintain a positive attitude in the face of adversity. Another one of my gay buds – a popular magazine advice columnist – was always there to listen to my stories after finally snagging my (at the time) dream man and would be equally kilig for me whenever I would talk about our dates. Incidentally, he was also there to tell me what a loser said dream man was after the dream turned into a nightmare!
Can I leave out the beloved gay friends I made in the theater? Some of my closest friends make their living on the stage. It’s a common misconception that gay men in theater are just loud, overbearing, kikay, and devoid of substance. This couldn’t be farther from the truth. I’ve learned that gay men in theater are probably the only beings on this planet completely in touch with their feelings. They are the most honest and conscientious people and they love their job with a passion that anyone should hope to have for their work. One of my best gay theater friends Ricci Chan, Rent Philippines’ one and only true Angel – always amazed me with the fervor with which he lives his life. Now a renowned makeup artist as well, my beloved disco diva can beautify anyone with just a few strokes of one of his many brushes. I think the reason he succeeds so well at this is because Ricci doesn’t just apply powder and blush to his subjects – he actually gets to know them. He talks to them and brings out their inner beauty even more than covering their blemishes with concealer. (Not to mention he can jump on a high table in clogs that would easily add five inches to any would-be wearer while grooving to the beat of the music at the same time!)
And lastly but definitely not the least, I don’t think I could survive without my gay hairstylist and friend. Franck Provost’s Odie delo Santos is the only person who can truly bring out the natural beauty of my hair. He saw me through split ends that threatened to reach my scalp, Halloween makeup for every corresponding costume, and those dangerous post heartache periods when I needed "a new look." I don’t trust anyone else with my hair. He automatically understands what I mean when I say "Just a trim, please" which in Michelle-lingo means 1/2 inch only if at all possible. I like my hair long and I’ve been through my share of horror "trims" that hacked inches of my mane. Through time Odie somehow managed to de-stress my hair and thus allowed me to grow those two additional inches I’d been longing for. It’s become like a love affair with him and my tresses. He always knows what kind of hairstyle I mean. A simple "you know – something like Catherine Zeta Jones in American Sweethearts" and he’s off with the scissors turning my hair into exactly what I had in mind. Recently, he gave me bangs that I absolutely love! And like the other gay professionals I know, Odie isn’t simply a hairstylist, he’s a friend. I trust him because I know he’s sincerely interested in me and my life – not just my hair.
Bottom line – I believe gay men know best because they aren’t afraid of life. They look forward to the possibility of each and every sunrise and salute each and every sunset knowing their day was well-lived. Gay men truly care about their friends and their loyalty is rock-solid. They encourage people to be creative and experiment with life not just following the prescribed path made by those before them. They persuade everyone to believe in themselves and not be afraid of the unknown or the uncertain. They truly make the most of their time on this fabulous planet and aren’t afraid to live life the carpe diem way – with passion and fervor and no apologies or regrets.
E-mail me at aquamarine_tranquility@yahoo.com.
It was a movie called The Broken Hearts Club, starring a wide array of good-looking Hollywood actors such as TV Superman Dean Cain, Timothy Olyphant, and Seventh Heaven’s Andrew Keegan, among others. The cast was a veritable slew of eye candy males albeit in this film all of said male eye candies were playing for the same team – the gay team.
The Broken Hearts Club is a movie about five gay friends (inspiration perhaps for such present-day shows such as Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?) who go through the usual emotional highs and lows that characterize life. The only difference is they go through it with so much more character and style than your average heterosexual. It remains a mystery but for some reason gay men seem to live on a completely different wavelength than the rest of the planet. They bring smiles and sunshine wherever they go. They’re so fun to be with and are willing to try anything. They’re funny and caring and can even pull out their hidden inner male when the need arises.
Indeed, the men of the Broken Hearts Club lived life with a passion that God-willing will someday infect us all. It’s a reality movie that portrays gay men the way they are in real life. Normal people who make up and break up and struggle to find themselves just like everyone else. They’re not always the stereotypical roles usually essayed in Hollywood films – roles like noble suffering AIDS victims, friends of noble suffering AIDS victims, and just recently, stylish confidants to lovelorn women. While gay men could be these things in real life, they are really so much more.
Indeed, I have to admit I have an incredibly large number of gay friends. I’ve been dubbed a fag magnet and honorary gay gal on many occasions. Perhaps it was my lengthy involvement in theater that introduced me to the uber-witty third sex but whatever the case may be, I happily have my share of gay confidantes. They truly are more themselves than most of the people I’ve met in my life. They know how to sparkle style and substance all at the same time. From their own indigenous language with gems like tienes, chuva, kebs, and dugyuters, they manage to color their conversation even when talking about the most mundane of things. They make great shopping partners and they always know when to just listen and keep quiet or when to tell you that you’ve landed in your current mess due to your own stupidity. They can always appreciate a bottle of fine wine and delicious cuisine. They’re flamboyant and carefree, cultured and confident, and they can talk about anything – politics, arts, science, and fashion. And all that aside, man, can these queens make me laugh!
I’ve known my share of gay men over the years and they’ve all left an indelible mark on me. Some of the first gay men I came to know well were in college. Carlo, Manu, and Marvin were my seniors in our political party. I remember noticing how straight-backed, poised and proper they sat at the tambayan despite the heat with their stylish little ensembles that seemed to transcend the weather (think long-sleeved polos and jean jackets in May). Marvin, our College of Science diva, even made carrying a "dead cat around" look trendy and many people had to be warned not to open his pre-med bag which he occasionally parked on the bench. These chic third-sex folk would talk about topics as diverse as their latest male fantasy to how well the peso was currently doing in the international market while they played games like trump and pusoy dos. They allowed everyone to join in their little card-playing circle but woe to those who made stupid mistakes during the games – they never heard the end of it. Indeed, when it comes to detraction (something I’m shamelessly bad at) gay men are the uncontested winners. Throughout college whenever I was at a loss for "zingers," Manu could always come up with some witty line that would leave people speechless. (Caveat: While gay men make fabulous friends – they make even worse enemies! Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned goes double for a gay man!)
After college came the "real world" – the work force where I learned some of the most important lessons of my life from gay friends. My first boss, one of the leading hotels’ PR head honco, taught me to never be ashamed of who I was and never to compromise my beliefs just to please someone else. He saw me through my first real heartache and helped me understand that I shouldn’t shoulder all the blame and that it takes two to tango. Not just that, he made work fun. While we were swimming through press releases and thousands of tiny little slides looking for a specific photo (not to mention working weekends and holidays) he would regale me with stories of his out-of-town trips and his current favorite films and plays. He managed to maintain a smile even when I knew that inside he was upset. I have to admit, gay men are the perfect PR folk – they always know how to smile through anything and maintain a positive attitude in the face of adversity. Another one of my gay buds – a popular magazine advice columnist – was always there to listen to my stories after finally snagging my (at the time) dream man and would be equally kilig for me whenever I would talk about our dates. Incidentally, he was also there to tell me what a loser said dream man was after the dream turned into a nightmare!
Can I leave out the beloved gay friends I made in the theater? Some of my closest friends make their living on the stage. It’s a common misconception that gay men in theater are just loud, overbearing, kikay, and devoid of substance. This couldn’t be farther from the truth. I’ve learned that gay men in theater are probably the only beings on this planet completely in touch with their feelings. They are the most honest and conscientious people and they love their job with a passion that anyone should hope to have for their work. One of my best gay theater friends Ricci Chan, Rent Philippines’ one and only true Angel – always amazed me with the fervor with which he lives his life. Now a renowned makeup artist as well, my beloved disco diva can beautify anyone with just a few strokes of one of his many brushes. I think the reason he succeeds so well at this is because Ricci doesn’t just apply powder and blush to his subjects – he actually gets to know them. He talks to them and brings out their inner beauty even more than covering their blemishes with concealer. (Not to mention he can jump on a high table in clogs that would easily add five inches to any would-be wearer while grooving to the beat of the music at the same time!)
And lastly but definitely not the least, I don’t think I could survive without my gay hairstylist and friend. Franck Provost’s Odie delo Santos is the only person who can truly bring out the natural beauty of my hair. He saw me through split ends that threatened to reach my scalp, Halloween makeup for every corresponding costume, and those dangerous post heartache periods when I needed "a new look." I don’t trust anyone else with my hair. He automatically understands what I mean when I say "Just a trim, please" which in Michelle-lingo means 1/2 inch only if at all possible. I like my hair long and I’ve been through my share of horror "trims" that hacked inches of my mane. Through time Odie somehow managed to de-stress my hair and thus allowed me to grow those two additional inches I’d been longing for. It’s become like a love affair with him and my tresses. He always knows what kind of hairstyle I mean. A simple "you know – something like Catherine Zeta Jones in American Sweethearts" and he’s off with the scissors turning my hair into exactly what I had in mind. Recently, he gave me bangs that I absolutely love! And like the other gay professionals I know, Odie isn’t simply a hairstylist, he’s a friend. I trust him because I know he’s sincerely interested in me and my life – not just my hair.
Bottom line – I believe gay men know best because they aren’t afraid of life. They look forward to the possibility of each and every sunrise and salute each and every sunset knowing their day was well-lived. Gay men truly care about their friends and their loyalty is rock-solid. They encourage people to be creative and experiment with life not just following the prescribed path made by those before them. They persuade everyone to believe in themselves and not be afraid of the unknown or the uncertain. They truly make the most of their time on this fabulous planet and aren’t afraid to live life the carpe diem way – with passion and fervor and no apologies or regrets.
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