or, The Secret History of Tricking and Treating
Coffee and doughnuts. Vodka and tonic. Jocelyn Wildenstein and the American Society of Plastic Surgeons. Some matches are made in heaven.
In case you haven't noticed, homos and Halloween have a similar affinity. Ever wonder why? Well sugar, like most good things, it all comes down to drag....
To really understand the connection between gay men and Witchie-Poo, we'll need to step back a few centuries--the year 1700 will do. Let's pretend we're London merchants running a small-scale trade business with the American colonies. Now let's really go out on a limb and pretend we're also sodomites (the clinical term "homosexual" wasn't coined 'till 1892). At the end of a long day of forcing peasants into indentured servitude, what might we do for fun? Why, visit a molly house, of course.
Molly houses were precursors to modern gay bars. These lively dives gave sodomites like us a chance to relax and wash the travails of the Industrial Revolution from our periwigged locks. Most importantly, molly houses gave us a place to develop a fledgling sense of community--and at the center of that community was the language of camp.
Now, even though we're talking about an era long before Stonewall, police records and other documents show that camp and its twin sister, drag, were already an important part of our community. Nearly every molly house regular had feminine nickname, and the bawdy humor bandied about in drag skits would compare favorably with what you'd hear in many gay bars today.
Of course, sodomites had to be discreet when visiting molly houses. As you can well imagine, such joints were prone to frequent raids by local authorities. But unless you were one of the patrons dressed as Desdemona, you'd at least stand a chance of avoiding one of the most common and devastating charges levied against bar patrons: the violation of "sumptuary laws."
From the medieval period until the latter part of the twentieth century, sumptuary laws prevented men in most cities from dressing as women (and vice-versa). These laws were selectively enforced, but they could carry very stiff penalties. Violators risked fines, jail time, and--as Weegee's paddy wagon shots from the 1940s so vividly demonstrate--serious public scorn for wearing a pair of special order pumps.
Which brings us back to our topic: Halloween. For decades, Halloween has provided homos an annual opportunity to circumvent sumptuary law and let it all hang out, reveling in camp and drag, the sometimes-controversial cornerstones of gay sensibility. After all, how can Officer Friendly arrest you for wearing a costume when it's part of holiday protocol?
But the real question is this: now that Dame Edna has a Broadway show, Ru Paul is a household name, and salesmen at the MAC counter sport full Egyptian eyeliner a la Barbra and Elizabeth Taylor, why do homos still turn it out like gangbusters on October 31st?
Well, it doesn't take a genius to realize that we're still living in a fairly conservative society. Regardless of what certain members of the Religious Right may say, Nero's not about to break out the fiddle anytime soon. The gradual establishment of social equality for the GLBT community isn't at all comparable to the real debauchery exhibited by the Roman nobility or the French aristocracy when those venerable empires fell. For better or worse, the Protestant work ethic is still going strong on these shores.
Because of this, social theorists argue, we occasionally need to let off steam, and holidays like Halloween that allow our fantasies to run wild are just what the doctor ordered. In fact, although these celebrations seem totally decadent, ultimately they ensure that the rest of the year is business-as-usual.
Now, if you're coming to the Crescent City for Halloween, you're in for a very special treat. Here, where the prevailing ethic is "any excuse for a party!", we've had a lot of experience entertaining ourselves and others. Just remember to bring a good costume--and as my mother always says, going shirtless with a pair of A&F cargo pants isn't a costume, it's what you wear to mow the goddamn lawn.
In closing, might I suggest that experienced costumers make this Halloween really special by skipping the usual beehives and cat-eye glasses in favor of something really unique? The scream queen look, for example, could be very interesting--I mean, when's the last time anyone dressed up as Adrienne Barbeau? Going as your favorite news anchor could also be fun (I'm partial to Lynne Russell, myself). But if you really wanna work it, honey, go where few drag queens have gone before: the Old Testament. Show the world your burning bush! Pull together an outfit that screams "plague of locusts"! But if anyone beats me to my Lots-wife-as-a-pillar-of-salt costume…well, just watch your back.