Christmas Eve in Beverly Hills last year was a mass of heaving bags, frantic women and dissolute men. This year there was scarcely a soul on Rodeo Drive. ‘Deck the Hills’ Beverly Hills tacky shopping slogan-hadn’t worked. Tim, Amanda and I walked briskly from shop to shop nere another shopping bag to be seen.
In the spirit of Christmas Past I was wearing a pair of black cashmere pantaloons with pink socks and buckled shoes. I had both the dogs with me. All eyes on Duncan. It is possible to be a chic farmer-as Martha Sitwell proves. I am so sick of dressing DOWN. Bland, dreary jeans, meaningless sweats: how can a man of any sexuality express himself sartorially?
Women, for that matter, don’t seem to have it any better. Note the tribes of identically dressed club girls waiting in line on Ivar. Shivering, tiny, rectangular micro-mini dresses and boucle crop tops, emaciated spikes of pink/brown flesh once born as arms and legs.
Since my rehab experience I am having a cris de coeur. A real one. A bone fide cris de coeur. Well, not so much a crisis of the heart but of the cock. A cris de pallique!
I am having an unplanned, unwanted, unloved revelation about my sexuality. I really don’t know if I am gay anymore. I think I might not be. Genuinely. I am having a MOMENT about my gayness. Somebody wrote on some board somewhere, “If Duncan Roy doesn’t like gay sex-he isn’t gay.” Well, as it happens, that might be true.
Lets face it; my sexual relations with man are based on recreating earlier abuses. I seldom get excited-if ever. I don’t get no-satisfaction. Perhaps if I trained myself to be present during sex with men but…even…even that seems like nonsense. I just don’t enjoy men. I lay there wondering, unengaged, what the hell am I doing here? Out of body. Thinking about Delia’s thick bean and bacon soup.
Wearing pantaloons does not make you a gay. Nor do pink socks.
There’s something about dressing up, wearing wonderfully exotic clothing that makes me feel complete. Frankly, at my age, I can wear what ever I damn well please. I could wear make up if I wanted-and have been considering it.
I don’t want to be a star cross dresser rather a star-crossed lover of beautiful things. After all, there’s a tranny deep inside of me-who’d like to be deep inside of you.
Somewhere along the way I became confused, disillusioned or just plain bored of GAY. It used to be fabulous; it kept me coming back, the mere spectacle of GAY..but now look..it’s crazily banal. The bars, clubs, private parties are all the same. The same ghastly narrative, the same Benny Hill type chases, the same miserable, vacuous queens. I didn’t sign up for that. I signed up for glamour and individuality.
Would any of you mind if I just stopped the gay bus and got off?
Yesterday, I found myself in conversation with a woman whose life I had been at the periphery for many, many years. We met at lunch with Amanda and Tim and, as so often happens, we had both been caught in the same social cobweb. But, whereas the spider had already sucked me dry-my friend is in the process of being eaten alive.
I am incredibly attracted to a certain kind of woman as I am attracted to a certain kind of man. However, a man’s intellect does nothing for me. I don’t wake up thinking about his brain-I wake up thinking about his cock. His story is a means to an end. A woman’s story can, and often does, lead to intimacy.
Okay, more of that later. Some other day. More will be revealed etc. etc.
I voted round one for the Academy Awards. My personal shortlist (films I had seen) was three times longer than 2008. The Academy will be thrilled to hear that I took my voting duties very seriously this year.
The best actor category was the hardest vote to cast. Gordon Levitt from 500 Days of Summer left a lasting impression-but really, that was IT. So much easier to vote for the women! There seemed to be real choice. The role as written for women hasn’t gotten any better but women seem to have fun with their performances. Whilst the men seem imprisoned by introspection the women are having a fucking blast…think Up In The Air.
Finally for Christmas! My Christmas cheer:
If you have the chance, time or inclination do please check out Fanny Cradock. Fanny, a 1970’s TV chef of the British snob variety became a ‘camp ’ legend, rude, funny and disparaging she predates Simon Cowell by thirty years. Fanny had all his savvy but in those genteel days was fired for being a bitch whereas nowadays she would be given a pay rise.
My Grandmother couldn’t stand Fanny because she’d wear long sleeves whilst say, stuffing a goose.
I always wanted to create a mid-century modern TV bitch type character based on Fanny Cradock but Justin Bond got there first with his Kiki in the award winning show Kiki and Herb.
Johnny Cradock after eating a freshly made doughnut once said, “Mmmm, delicious. I hope all your doughnuts taste like Fanny’s”
LOL! Fanny flavored donuts. Not sure how many will get that. =)
Haha I think it’s more a question of whether they will see it as the American slang or as the English slang.
I don’t think the world has been the same since men stopped wearing hats. Sad. Men like John Kennedy, Cary Grant, and James Stewart in their overcoats and hats always appealed to me. It seems respectful somehow. Cashmere pantaloons sound decadent!
That said, I totally agree with you about the current state of fashion. Everything is like a uniform anymore. All of the young 20-somethings wear the same urban hipster attire a la Green Day, or worse yet the overpriced faux surfer attire sans surf board (vintage Abercrombie? Yuck). What’s worse, all of the women my age are decked out in their mommy chic, J. Crew fall catalog pg. 34 button downs and khaki trousers, no crease. Boring. Is there anything worse? Yes, there is….
My least favorite fashion trend is wearing pieces covered in the logo of the designer as if to say, “Look at me and my Louis Vuitton belt!” When I see that, I assume it means that said belt is holding up a rather cheap pair of American Eagle jeans. I remember when I was young I desperately wanted my parents to buy me a Benetton shirt, but refused to have them purchase the popular rugby with prominent logo. My mother, the very earnest working class-type, said, “But, honey, without the logo it looks like any other shirt.” Exactly my point.
Sadly, I don’t have the cash to live out my own fashion deams, so it’s off to the Gap for me. *sigh*
Merry Christmas, Duncan!
Take this quote to heart darling; I’m bisensual. Heteroflexible. And life-curious. That about covers it.
Wow this is an interesting post. There’s so many things I want to say, to question to examine but that would be just rude of me. But I love that you’ve written about it. I truly do believe that people repeat situations and patterns in their life to gain mastery over them, to change the outcome. And when that need is no longer there, perhaps a different direction is valid? If that makes sense. Thanks for a thought-provoking post.
Duncan, I have been reading your posts and once commented on one… and this time i find myself writting to you again…. when you wrote your post regarding Jenny and how you where upset with her.. i thought to myself that maybe you where jealous of her, that you wanted Jenny all to yourself… maybe could it be that you where falling in love with her and was not aware of it??? you too did get close and experience several personal experiences… that there is the purest of the intimacies between two people… and that is how LOVE is created…. Wish you well.
Merry Christmas!! and may 2010 be full of more “aha” moments.
Merry Christmas to you Duncan & your lovely dogs .
I don’t see what difference it makes who you love (consenting adult-wise), as long as you keep on loving. Sexuality isn’t always an expression of love of course, but it’s so fulfilling when it is.
I agree with Ruth Gordon’s character in Harold and Maude: “Go, and love some more!”
You’re an intelligent, compassionate man. You’ll work it out.
Thank you so much for letting us watch you at work.
Fanny kind of reminds me of the older lady on “Are You Being Served?”
For fuck sake Duncan…you are wonderful . We love ~love yourself ( pink , buckles and all )
It takes time ( I know ) but when you least expect it the graces of life and friendship light the room.
Happy Christmas Duncan! Hoping you can relax in the assurance that no matter what is going on and just as you are, you are totally understood, accepted, appreciated and loved as the beautiful soul you are. If there were any optimal time to exhale this would be it. Allow that in and watch what happens!
Merry Christmas to you Duncan. Thank you so much for sharing with us your lovely blog and wonderful posts.
I hope that you find whatever makes you happy. To read that you don’t get excited or satisfied from past sexual encounters upsets me, if you don’t mind my saying so. I understand that you were recreating the abuse you experienced from your childhood, was being unarroused and unexcited part of that as well? Was it a control issue? Sorry to get so personal, I hope you don’t mind my asking. I just hope everyone realizes that they and everyone else deserves sexual satisfaction in their lives, in my opion of course.
I love, love, love your style Duncan. As far as wearing makeup goes, look at Eddie Izzard. He is hetero (or as he calls himself, male-lesbian) he just happens to like dressing up & wearing makeup. When did clothes and makeup become gender/sexuality-specific anyways? I’m sure anything you wear and any makeup you have on, you will look fabulous! I wouldn’t mind you getting off of the gay bus. You do what you do.
PS- I will be checking out those Fanny links you’ve tweeted!
Wearing pantaloons does not make you a gay. Nor do pink socks.
I’ve always said, preferring thongs, “banana hammocks,” see-through mesh undies . . . I’m not gay, but my underwear is. LOL!
Merry Christmas, Duncan!
Interesting…I think sexuality is so fluid if we were true to our thoughts and desires. I used to really lust about men, but since I realized I was bisexual, I have less interest than I used to. Certain men I am extremely lustful for.
I have been confused about my orientation. But I guess I will still go with bisexual. Many people don’t want any label, but for me it feels right. I recently had a girlfriend that was more out of convenience than true lust. So I began to question, but then I remember the first woman I was sexual with and realized that was still a very erotic experience for me.
I don’t know its all very interesting…life and sexuality that is. Perhaps your traumatic experience has made it difficult to really have intimacy with men. It was a man who hurt you so terribly. Women may be safe.
I wish we had a picture of that outfit.
Duncan,
My favorite post so far. Wow. That is quite the ephiphany. I so admire the confidence to examine and consider paths. Isn’t life wonderful?
I’ll keep reading. I’m on a journey too.
oddly enough , when its women who have abused you as a child, whether physically or emotionally, you tend to go for men who do the same. good golly, takes too long to figure out the whens and whys, just go for what makes you sane and not self destructing.AND i really despise snow today, but merry merry to all ! 😉
Anyone enlightened enough to accept you as a gay man — essentially, a person who has a right to have sex with other consenting men because it is none of our business unless you choose to consult us — should logically and necessarily embrace this post. What is wrong with a man who has been with (and possibly attracted to) men now feeling more attracted to women? The only answer is that there could not possibly be anything wrong. [Of course, issues of betrayal, dishonesty, and familial responsibility are all relevant, but have nothing *specific* to do with sexual orientation. These are issues involved in the ending of any existing relationship, for whatever reason. In the best of all possible worlds, these changes would happen during celibacy and therefore none of these should ordinarily apply in a way specific to this discussion. ;)]
Why do I hear that Cat Stevens apple commercial in my head?
If you care to do so, be as feminine, flamboyant, or unconventional as you choose to be and sleep with women! Socks be damned. Who can rationally argue that they have any reason to care or to judge?
thanks for this…
Hello our dearest Duncan! I understand a little of where you are coming from with the “stop the bus” feeling. I am a lesbian. I used to become confused as to my orientation because I have a tendency to connect with men more on an emotional level. I even wholly appreciate the man physique at times have many occasions of jealousy. Mostly I tend to connect more with the not so ‘feminine’ gay men or straight men. I also felt a small degree of this emotional bond with really really butch women or transgendered female to male persons.
At times, being with a girlfriend, or women in general, would repulse me. The one I found so attractive and delightful sicken me. I hated myself for it. I could never really figure out the reasoning for this disgust, though I’m sure the reasons changed a bit, but I did figure out that there is something evil that blocks me from having healthy meaningful relationships with whom I am coupled. My ex and I severed our four year relationship because of my repeated ’emotional affair’ with a gay male friend. Though her suspicions lead to false conclusions, it did not make her feelings less valid. I was too stubborn to accept the latter. Forgoing pride is never pleasant. Though our coupled relationship rests in peace, we still speak with each other and frequently.
I have since learned that my block is that I had been hurt by many women in the past and did not see them as capable of being emotionally trustworthy on any relationship basis. Because of the social stigmas that have embedded our perfectly wonderful queer brains, we do find it cause to question ourselves at some point even though we see the same patterns in our heterosexual counterparts. Many heterosexual women rely heavily on other women for affection and emotional support as do many heterosexual men with men.
I believe this just goes to say we are all merely human beings wanting to connect with someone somehow. It’s the life long struggle of finding a sufficient balance what makes life worthwhile. Much love to you Duncan!
JD
Hello Duncan, great to read about how you are feeling about your sexuality. As always, thanks for writing about it, because I learned something about myself whenever you talk about your true feelings towards sexuality.
I don’t know that defining yourself is a requirement for the world, and only for yourself if you need it. I had to battle being attracted to the gender of my abuser until I realized sexuality and abuse are two very different animals, and I forced them separate in my mind.
And I love pink socks on whomever feels happy wearing them.
I watched the reality show, and while I admit I did not have the magnitude of horrors to deal with that you did, I’m a survivor too. Your candor was impressive and I wouldn’t doubt watching you speak the truth helped someone immensely.
I wish you good answers in due time.
I’ve been enjoying reading your blogs, Duncan. I don’t know you in real life and probably never will, but your blogs are quite deep this one was particularly moving. Sensuality and sexuality can and does evolve, regardless of age. What was once familiar can and should be allowed to change and no one should stoop so low as to be ridiculed when they embrace and examine this change. You are a changing person as you continue along the path of sobriety and those who have been there and continue to be there support you, whether we know you or not. You have support and love from all corners, don’t forget that. I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and cheers to a happy and sober new year.
Oh, and pink socks are for everyone. It’s those who complain about them that are truly insecure…. 😉
Say it isn’t so!
Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered.