The rainbow flag is carried down the slope at Aspen Mountain during Aspen Gay Ski Week 2018. Photo by Matt PowerAdventure
For 44 years, Aspen has been home to the world’s only nonprofit gay ski week. While the popular event is hosting virtual celebrations this year, the organizers are hoping community support will help them get to their 45th anniversary in 2022.
Every winter for the past 44 years, visitors have traveled to the Roaring Fork Valley for a weekend full of skiing, soaking, dancing, costume contests, and drag queen entertainment. Aspen Gay Ski Week (AGSW), the world’s only nonprofit gay ski week, is unlike any event you’ll find in the Rocky Mountains.
While past gatherings have focused on the fabulous parties on and off the slopes, the 2021 event will look drastically different. Due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic and Pitkin County entering Level Red restrictions, AGSW will host no in-person events this year. Instead, attendees can tune in to a wide offering of virtual events while continuing to support the reason behind the annual celebration—giving back to the community.
Aspen Gay Ski Week (AGSW) is the signature fundraising event for AspenOUT, a local nonprofit that promotes tolerance and diversity through original programming and by providing grant funding to local and national LGBTQ causes. This year, organizers hope that they can bring the same energy and entertainment that attendees expect from AGSW, while staying safe.
“Our goal is to keep AspenOUT alive and to make enough money to continue our grant and scholarship giving in 2022,” says Kevin McManamon, executive director of AspenOUT. AspenOut makes money from lift tickets and hotel bookings made through the AGSW website, as well as through partnerships with local restaurants throughout the week-long event. “All of this adds up over the course of the week,” McManamon says. AspenOUT plans to give away $100,000 in 2022 to LGBTQ charities, scholarships, and grants. Since 2014, AspenOUT has given out close to $400,000 to help the LGBTQ community.
AGSW 2021 kicks off on January 17 with a livestreamed piano bar event hosted by comedian Jon Richardson in Provincetown, Massachusetts. Other virtual events throughout the week include the Art on the Virtual Slopes, which features works from artists all over the world, Drag Queen Bingo with Mariam T., a silent auction, and the Virtual Downhill Rainbow Reveal, during which the giant rainbow flag is unveiled by skiers as they glide down Aspen Mountain.
Mariam T. hails from sunny San Diego and will host this year’s virtual bingo with her San Diego drag sister, Naomi Daniels. “I’m hoping that this year we can all come together, and still keep the spirit of what Aspen Gay Ski Week is alive,” Mariam says. “We all had such a blast last year and if we can reconnect and still have fun and raise money this year, that will be amazing. I think it will also make us look forward to reuniting in 2022 even more.”
Syracuse, N.Y. — Rain Lounge, one of Central New York’s best known gay bars, is closing for good after struggling to keep afloat during the Covid 19 pandemic.
Owner Duke Epolito announced the decision Thursday on social media, prompting outpourings of support from long-time fans of the 20-year-old club.
“Thank you for everything,” one commenter posted after seeing the news. “Rain always felt like home. So much love.”
Rain opened in 2001 at the corner of Herald Place and North Franklin Street, just down from the Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. It moved to its current location at 105 N. Geddes St., near Erie Boulevard West, in 2011. The building is now listed for sale.
In 2013, Out Magazine listed Rain as one of the top 200 gay bars in the world, and it was the only one in New York state outside of New York City.
“Syracuse lounge Rain caters to a diverse crowd of college kids, lesbians, drag queens, and other queers which ‘defy categorization,’ ” the editors of Out wrote.
“I’m so proud that we were recognized like that,” Epolito said today. “It was always our goal to be welcoming to everyone.”
“It’s a place where girls can dance and not be hassled,” he told syracuse.com in 2011. “It’s eclectic.”
Epolito recognizes that closing Rain may leave a gap in the local club scene (though there are other gay and gay-friendly bars in town).
He said he’s proud of the role Rain played in the LGBTQ community.
He remembers receiving a letter a few years ago from a girl who had visited Rain one night.
“She had been struggling with her identity, her sexual identity and was considering suicide,” Epolito said. “But after she came to Rain, she felt welcomed, and more positive about herself. She told me her visit to Rain changed her outlook. I’m so glad we were able to provide that space, and that comfort.”
Rain had only opened “intermittently” during much of the pandemic, Epolito said. But it has been closed since November, just before Gov. Andrew Cuomo placed the city in an orange zone, prohibiting indoor dining and drinking. (That ban was lifted, at least temporarily, Thursday).
Although the bar was known as place for people to dance, mingle and socialize, Epolito said it was never found in violation of any of the Covid 19 safety protocols when it was open.
“The state task force (enforcing the protocols) came in every single day that we were open,” he said. “But they never found anything wrong. We followed all the guidelines.”
Epolito said the state restrictions made it difficult to operate.
“I don’t want to be political,” he said. ‘I can’t imagine how hard it is to be the governor and make these decisions. But I don’t think he understood how hard this is for a small business.”
In his social media posts announcing the closing, Epolito wrote:
“What our Governor will never understand is that a small business is like a child to its owner. Rain is the only daughter I will ever know. She was an amazing baby a true learning lesson while a toddler and as teen she was fiercely independent. I’m so grateful to watch her grow into adult hood. I will love my baby forever and all those who helped raise her. I hope her memory brings you a smile.”
There’s a twisted silver lining to the COVID-19 pandemic: Some gay and bisexual men are able to donate blood for the first time.
Federal Drug Administration (FDA) rules long forbid men who have sex with other men from donating blood. The policy dates back to the height of the the AIDS crisis, when HIV was not well understood and there was fear of a “contaminated” blood supply.
Long after processes were created to test blood products to determine if they’re safe, no matter who donates, there are still restrictions—albeit looser ones. In 2015, that rule was amended to allow gay and bisexual men to donate if they’d been celibate for a year.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, the celibacy requirement has been lowered to three months. That has opened the door for more donors, as the pandemic alters people’s dating lives.
Dave Bentlin, president of the Prairie Pride Coalition, recently donated blood for the first time in his life.
“It was a wonderful experience for me, but I have been healthy for all of the three decades that this policy has been in place,” Bentlin said. “I could have given gallons of blood by now, and I was not able to simply because of a wrongheaded policy that’s based on outdated statistics and outdated testing procedures.”
The relaxed restrictions, which took effect in April, came as COVID-19 ravaged already low blood supplies in the U.S. Red Cross figures in March showed a drop off of more than 86,000 donations as blood drives across the country were canceled in accordance with social distancing guidelines.
Bentlin said it’s ironic that gay men, long barred from donating, are now being called on to remedy the blood shortage. He notes that the new rule excludes those who are married, or who are in long-term monogamous relationships.
“It was one of the most rewarding things I have done as an adult—and I want to do it again. I want to be able (to) make a difference in other people’s lives,” Bentlin said. “I know a lot of my other gay and bisexual brothers would like to do the same thing. But as long as this policy remains in place, it excludes extensive numbers of us from giving.”
The rule change also does nothing to address the barriers that transgender, non-binary or gender non-conforming people face in donating blood.
Len Meyer founded the Central Illinois Pride Health Center, an organization aimed at addressing the LGBTQI community’s health care needs. Meyer said the FDA and Red Cross only allow for two gender identities: male and female.
“They also ask prior names that they might have donated under, which forces those individuals to ‘deadname’ themselves,” Meyer said. “Both of these issues are harmful to (transgender and gender non-conforming) people.”
LGBTQI rights advocates say the policy needs to continually be revisted. At present, Bentlin said, it discriminates against a class of people instead of looking at behaviors and risk factors for blood donors. Bentlin adds some of the questions asked of gay and bisexual donors—including whether they are a paid sex worker—are out of touch with the reality of today’s society.
The FDA is considering further lifting restrictions on gay and bisexual men donating blood. A pilot study will look at the risk of infection by transfusion-transmissible diseases like HIV and Hepatitis B.
In the meantime, Bentlin encourages anyone eligible to donate to do so. But he said many may not know this opportunity exists.
“This policy has been on the books for so long, I think that a lot of gay men—especially from my generation in life, who are in their 50s and even early 60s—are just assuming that they still can’t give blood under any circumstance,” Bentlin said. “I just I don’t think that this policy is really on a lot of people’s radars.”
Bentlin said, to the Red Cross’ credit, the agency has been cooperative and understanding about the inequality of the rule. About six years ago, the local Red Cross partnered Prairie Pride Coalition to host a gay men’s blood drive, where participants recruited a friend who was eligible to give blood to donate in their place.
Bentlin said another educational blood drive is in the works for 2021.
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For the first time in five years, L.G.B.T.Q. representation on television decreased, an annual report by the L.G.B.T. advocacy organization Glaad has found.
The percentage of regular characters scheduled to appear on prime-time scripted broadcast television who identified as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer decreased to 9.1 percent in the 2020-21 season, from the previous year’s record high of 10.2 percent. The number of recurring L.G.B.T.Q. characters — people who make multiple appearances in a series but are not part of the main cast — is about the same as the previous season (31 this year, compared with 30 in the prior year).
The findings were published on Thursday in a report called “Where We Are on TV,” available at Glaad.org. It assessed representation in the 2020-21 season, defined as broadcast, cable and streaming shows expected to premiere new seasons between June 1, 2020, and May 31, 2021.
Across those platforms, the 2020-21 season includes 360 L.G.B.T.Q. characters, down from 488 in the 2019-20 season, the report found. But the numbers had been expected to drop because the coronavirus pandemic caused networks and creators to pause production on several shows and affected the development of series that feature L.G.B.T.Q. characters, among them “Euphoria” and “Killing Eve,” that were not included in the research period.
Scripted cable programs demonstrated the largest decrease in L.G.B.T.Q. representation: Primetime series in the 2020-21 season feature 81 regular L.G.B.T.Q. characters (down from 121 last season) and 37 recurring ones (down from 94). Original series premiering on the streaming services Amazon, Hulu and Netflix include 95 such series regulars (down from 109) and 46 recurring ones (up from 44).
For the first time, the report found, more than half of L.G.B.T.Q. characters on prime-time scripted cable series were people of color (broadcast had already achieved that figure). Streaming was the only platform in which white L.G.B.T.Q. characters (51 percent) outnumbered nonwhite ones.
The number of transgender characters across broadcast, cable and streaming decreased to 29 from 38 last season, though the percentage of those played or voiced by transgender actors increased to 90 percent from 82 percent. The portion of L.G.B.T.Q. characters who are bisexual increased slightly, to 28 percent from 26 percent.
Representation of women remained unchanged at 46 percent of series regulars on broadcast television, but they are still underrepresented, as they make up 51 percent of the U.S. population, according to the Census Bureau.
The percentage of Black characters on broadcast television remained about the same at 22 percent (slightly down from last season’s 23 percent), while the percentage of Latino characters decreased, to 7 percent from 9 percent.
The percentage of regular characters with a disability increased slightly, to 3.5 percent from last year’s 3.1 percent, but still underrepresents the estimated 26 percent of adults in the United States who have disabilities.
The CW is the most inclusive broadcast network, according to the report, while FX tops the cable networks and Netflix claims the title among streaming platforms.
Sarah Kate Ellis, the Glaad president and chief executive, said the shifting cultural and political landscape presented “an opportunity to break new ground with stories” and to create characters who “do not reinforce harmful stereotypes.”
“Representation matters more than ever as people turn to entertainment storytelling for connection and escape,” she said.
Super-fans of Olivia Rodrigo have long been manifesting her “world domination” on social media. And this week, they got their wish.
The actress and teen songwriting phenom’s runaway hit of a debut single, “Drivers License,” has been shattering streaming records left and right since its buzzy release last week. In a recent interview with Billboard, Spotify’s head of global hits confirmed that the musical juggernaut set the platform’s record for most daily streams for a nonholiday song at more than 15.17 million — and then again at 17.01 million.
“We’ve never seen anything like this,” Spotify’s Becky Bass said, “where you do have a newer artist that just comes out of the gate in such a dominant way, and just continues to grow.”
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The song’s emotional lyrics and infectious hook (which you’ve probably heard by now) are all over TikTok, where hundreds of thousands of people — including the app’s queen bee, Charli D’Amelio — have been posting “Drivers License” videos, such as dances and explainers linking its contents to Rodrigo’s personal life. (We’d embed the video in this story — but she “still f—” loves the person she’s singing about.)
“I guess you didn’t mean what you wrote in that song about me,” Rodrigo sings on the angsty track about getting her license and coping with heartbreak. “‘Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street.”
Here are a few more things you should know about the 17-year-old “Drivers License” artist:
1. She’s the star of Disney+’s ‘High School Musical: The Musical: The Series’
In the meta spinoff — about teens who stage a production of “High School Musical” at the school where the hit TV movies were filmed — underdog choir girl Nini lands the coveted part of Gabriella Montez (originated by Vanessa Hudgens) with a melodic solo rendition of the Troy-Gabriella duet, “Start of Something New.”
2. This isn’t her first hit
In addition to starring in “High School Musical: The Musical: The Series,” Rodrigo has written multiple songs for the show — including its most popular original, “All I Want.”
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The heartfelt Season 1 ballad, which has amassed more than 193 million streams on Spotify, details Nini’s complicated relationships with two of her exes.
“[Gen Z-ers] have a particular insight on the world that sometimes adults don’t have,” Rodrigo told The Times last year of her approach to songwriting. “If you have a bunch of old white guys in a room trying to write a song for a teenage girl, their experience is never going to be the same as a teenage girl living in 2020.”
Last month, “High School Musical” showrunner Tim Federle revealed to The Times that Rodrigo had written another “pretty extraordinary” song for the show’s upcoming sophomore season. She also co-wrote a romantic Season 1 duet, “Just for a Moment,” with the Troy to her Gabriella, Joshua Bassett. We’ll get to him later.
3. She’s a huge Swiftie
Some have compared “Drivers License” to pop icon Taylor Swift’s music, which often draws on the singer’s personal heartbreaks in vivid detail, prompting rampant speculation as to what — and more important, who — inspired them.
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Well, it just so happens that Rodrigo is a huge fan of Swift. And Swift is an admirer of Rodrigo too: After “Drivers License” charted among some of Swift’s most popular “Evermore” tracks on iTunes, the “Willow” hitmaker personally congratulated Rodrigo on Instagram.
“I say that’s my baby and I’m really proud,” Swift wrote, causing Rodrigo to lose her mind — and fans to predict that the young musician will be next in line to open for Swift on tour.
In April of last year, the Grammy winner shared Rodrigo’s acoustic cover of her fan-favorite “Lover” track, “Cruel Summer,” to her Instagram story. In turn, the Disney actress hailed Swift as “the reason I write songs.”
4. Swift isn’t her only famous fan
As mentioned above, TikTok star D’Amelio has also expressed her admiration for Rodrigo’s work — as have model Hailey Bieber, “Game of Thrones” star Sophie Turner, pop star Joe Jonas and others on social media.
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Stars, they’re just like us: Grown adults shamelessly crying along to a song a 17-year-old wrote about getting her driver’s license.
5. So… what’s all this about Bassett and Sabrina Carpenter?
If you’ve been tracking the success of “Drivers License” over the last week, you’ve probably seen Bassett’s and Carpenter’s names floating around in connection with the tune.
That’s because the most prominent “Drivers License” fan theory posits that Rodrigo wrote the earworm about her on-screen “High School Musical” love interest, Bassett, who supposedly broke her heart in real life. #dra #ma!
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Rumor has it that Rodrigo and Bassett fell for each other and possibly dated while working together on the show. Either way, the speculation is that their romance didn’t end well, and Bassett has since been linked to Disney Channel star-turned-singer Carpenter. (The two have appeared in multiple quarantine TikToks together, so you know it’s real.)
Bassett, 20, has also written and released some love songs of his own — hence the “Drivers License” lyric, “I guess you didn’t mean what you wrote in that song about me.” Rodrigo also mentions a “blond girl” that’s “so much older” than her on the track. Carpenter is, in fact, blond and four years Rodrigo’s senior at age 21. Make of that information what you will!
“Mr Folau wants all Australians to know that he does not condone discrimination of any kind against any person on the grounds of their sexuality,” the statement read. RA said it did not “in any way” agree with the content of the post, adding inclusivity was “core” to the sport, and both parties apologised for “any hurt or harm caused”.
Jenna Lyons has described the situation in the US with LGBT rights as “scary”.
he American fashion designer told Elle UK there is “more prejudice than ever” in the country, adding same-sex marriage legislation risks being overturned.
“I hope that things shift. Where we are now is very scary,” she said.
On Sunday, HBO Max confirmed that a Sex and the City reboot called And Just Like That… is officially in the works—an announcement that inspired fervent speculation among fans and critics. (Not least because the show is, tragically, down one lead: Kim Cattrall’s Samantha.) The original series was famously candid, and often clever, as it followed four friends—Samantha, Sarah Jessica Parker’s Carrie, Cynthia Nixon’s Miranda, and Kristin Davis’s Charlotte—snappily discussing the details of their sex lives, dating preferences, and personal aspirations. But its quippy, city-girl tone has aged unevenly. Though that approach was well-suited to a story about proudly imperfect women, the show also used it as a cheap excuse to center a very specific viewpoint: straight white affluence, as written by straight white women and gay white men.
For those who still watch the original series whenever they’ve got five hours to waste away on the couch, it’s not hard to acknowledge its wrongheadedness while enjoying its tenacity and extreme watchability. Much like its descendant Girls,SATC drilled into even the most sharply critical millennials that it may be useless to try to untangle those characteristics—and anyway, it’s all just television, right? Who doesn’t enjoy an elevated mess?
News of a reboot, though, invites us to reconsider the show’s tone and ideas—and often, Sex and the City’s jibes took the form of homophobia and transphobia. Throughout the course of the series, Samantha gleefully used a transphobic slur in a dig against sex workers; Carrie doubted the validity of bisexual men; in more than one episode, lesbians were portrayed as exclusively white, rich, and power-hungry. Stanford (Willie Garson), Carrie’s token gay male friend, was more of an accessory than a person; in the second Sex and the City movie, he ended up marrying the franchise’s only other gay male regular, even though his future husband once chastised his friend Charlotte for assuming he’d even be interested in Stanford. (“Why, because he’s gay and I’m gay?” Mario Cantone’s Anthony asked in season four. “Charlotte, let me clear something up for you…I could do a lot better.”)
Even when Samantha, the most sexually adventurous of the bunch, dated a woman (played by the beloved Brazilian actor Sônia Braga), Sex and the City fumbled. The show used lesbianism as a narrative device, painting it as a strategy born out of dating fatigue; the possibility that Samantha was legitimately curious or bisexual was never explored. Her friends’ sly, self-centered commentary about her new relationship—that Samantha was simply in a phase, that she was doing this for attention—was framed not as gossip, but insight.
To those outside of queer communities, such a reading may come as a surprise; how could Sex and the City get gay people so wrong? How could its openly gay writers—primarily creator Darren Star and executive producer Michael Patrick King—sorely misrepresent a group they’re a part of?
But it’s old news to note that (usually upper-class) white gay men have a deserved reputation for taking conservative and even bigoted positions about their trans, Black, lesbian, or fat brethren, acting as if a mix of self-hatred and disdain of the Other is a charming personality trait. Accordingly, Sex and the City’s most reactionary perspectives are never portrayed as a source of shame for the characters or their acquaintances; they’re always meant as light entertainment. Similarly, straight white women—like the bulk of Sex and the City’s writers—can often act as accomplices and avatars for this exclusion. In many ways, Sex and the City used the much-stereotyped dynamic of friendship between straight white women and gay men to prop up self-assuredly ignorant worldviews.
It’s this age-old mix of gay patriarchy and white supremacy that adds a layer of trepidation to anyone anticipating HBO’s limited-series revival of the show. Star, now helming the popularly hate-watched Emily in Paris, is out, while King, who wrote and directed SATC’s critically maligned but lucrative film sequels, is in. Star and King worked alongside each other for years on the original series; in the interim, King produced the CBS sitcom 2 Broke Girls, which received criticism for blatant racism. The skill it will take to issue a reboot that is self-aware without being self-conscious requires more than experience or self-help revelations—imagination is essential.
But And Just Like That… will be a fresh creation, existing firmly in the present—a present where, for example, Cynthia Nixon is now married to a woman and the mother to a trans child. It’s unlikely that she, at least, would sign onto And Just Like That… if its scripts were as cavalier about queer issues as the original series so often was. Could a reprisal force King to examine how his characters’ flaws were often rooted in an anti-queer mentality? Or will the new series simply paper over the show’s history by making Carrie, Miranda, and Charlotte paragons of midlife emotional and moral growth? Perhaps, in the end, our fan fiction about a lesbian New York governor Miranda Hobbes could come to fruition—as an audience-pandering plot that atones for Sex and the City’s past sins.
This post is part of Outward, Slate’s home for coverage of LGBTQ life, thought, and culture. Read more here.
As the new year dawns, gay male social media is embroiled in a state of self-described “civil war.” The cause? Densely packed “circuit” parties, sometimes with hundreds of attendees, being held in tropical destinations during a deadly pandemic. The conflict between critics and defenders of these events has snowballed into a swirl of Twitter brawls, Instagram vigilantism, influencer doxing, and questions about the limits of shared identity. At its core is a disagreement over the value of intracommunity callouts and criticism, which some call “shaming” and which others view as “accountability.” But if we want a workable means of actually encouraging safer behavior and reducing harm, we’re going to need a different type of conversation.
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For the uninitiated, circuit parties are large dance events predominantly thrown by and for gay men, typically associated with muscled and shirtless bodies, pounding music, drugs, and sex. These parties grew from the disco culture of the 1970s and ’80s, as those who loved them would travel the “circuit” of fabulous global destinations to participate. Stereotypes abound about the predominantly white and affluent men known to frequent circuit parties (often referred to as “circuit queens”), as well as the arguably shallow and exclusionary culture they bolster. But, as many scholars and activists have countered, these events hold an important place in gay history by providing a unique space for joy, community, sexual liberation, and even fundraising for causes like HIV/AIDS or LGBTQ youth homelessness. As such, circuit parties exemplify some of the best and worst dimensions of gay culture, all under the same disco ball.
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The management of pleasure and risk during COVID has been an ongoing point of tension within the gay community. (See: the Fourth of July, when videos of crowded beaches on New York’s Fire Island began to circulate.) But the conflict between gay men who continue to socialize in large groups and those who judge them reached a fever pitch this past December, when social media posts showed bars and parties in Miami and Fort Lauderdale full of unmasked patrons. Responses begged people to stay home on New Year’s—or at the very least not travel—fearing a euphoric night out might help fuel a new wave of infections in the weeks to come, much like a wedding in Maine did this past August. Then, earlier this month, many reacted in horror as word of circuit-style parties in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, and neighboring regions trickled onto social media, showing hundreds of gay men dancing together, as though COVID would be kept out by the bouncers.
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The gay internet has been ablaze ever since. Many online commentators rejoiced when footage was released showing Brazilian authorities shutting down a party of “thousands of maskless men” in Rio de Janeiro. The schadenfreude only intensified when a party boat carrying 60 people capsized in Mexico. (Fortunately, only egos were hurt.) Social media accounts dedicated to exposing gay partiers have been sprouting up daily, the most notorious of which, @GaysOverCOVID, recently surpassed 100,000 followers and was included in a Good Morning America segment on “COVID vigilantes.” These accounts and their allies have dedicated themselves to outing partygoers, often revealing their personal names and workplaces or using smartphone location data to sleuth out their attendance. The fact that some of the partiers appear to be physicians, nurses, or other essential workers has only encouraged this sort of online activism. Asked to explain his motivations, the anonymous curator of @GaysOverCOVID told the journalists Alex Hawgood and Taylor Lorenz, “I just want people to stay home and if we can save one life then I feel good. … We have to live more empathetic lives.” Pointing out that the account only shares content already posted publicly to social media, he added, “People say this is a shaming profile, but [the partiers] have no shame in what they’re doing.”
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While some partiers simply don’t care about the criticism and surveillance, others have pushed back, arguing that this public shaming is unjustified and does nothing to reduce harm. One group, organized under the hashtag #GaysOverKarens, even offered a $500 bounty for any information on the identity of the owner of @GaysOverCOVID, claiming the account is making the community “as divisive as ever.” “Seeing how they like to put everybody under pressure, let’s see how they feel like now that the target is on them,” a member of the group wrote on Facebook. Party defenders invoke a right to consent to participate in these spaces, to act according to the “survival of the fittest,” and, if nothing else, to try to experience a modicum of joy during a year rife with misery and boredom. Some partiers simply call the detractors ugly and jealous.
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This conflict, of course, is not unique to the gay community; wealthy people of all stripes are continuing to travel and party. But it hits a nerve among gay folks because of the community’s particular relationship to pleasure and risk, a relationship forged especially through the AIDS crisis. As such, the “circuit party civil war” presents a prime opportunity to consider: How do we strive to have pleasurable lives in a pandemic while still reducing harm?
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As a public health and HIV researcher, and as a gay man who loves nightlife, I have been preoccupied with these tensions. I’ll grant that it’s extremely difficult to find any sort of redeeming dimension to the pandemic partying. We have all made sacrifices; we are all bored and lonely; we all miss our lives. Predominantly white, wealthy gay men traveling to Mexico—one of the countries most burdened by COVID—to party during the height of the pandemic is callous disregard at best and colonialism at worst. (As many activists have pointed out, the white, wealthy partygoers have the resources and privilege to be insulated from harm, while poor individuals and people of color bear the disproportionate burden of the pandemic.) From this perspective, drawing attention to dangerous behavior isn’t pious “shaming.” It’s holding people rightfully accountable for the consequences of their actions.
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White, wealthy partygoers have the resources to be insulated from harm, while poor individuals and people of color bear the disproportionate burden of thepandemic.
But that’s not the end of the story. The current dialogue is depicting two different and yet similarly caricatured camps: On one side, we have irredeemably selfish partiers who are supposedly motivated by nothing more than their toxic, trauma-induced attachments to sex and drugs. On the other, we have the Good Gays, who have nothing better to do but sit in their apartments all day and attack complete strangers online under the delusion that this will make an impact.
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I believe the conversation can, and must, be deepened. Binaries are seldom helpful, and the one that is emerging here is obfuscating the reality that we all live complex lives. We are at a critical moment in establishing what a sustainable approach to pleasure looks like, as pandemic fatigue intensifies and COVID deaths soar higher than ever. Although many like to imagine that the vaccines will be a panacea, the more likely reality is that inequitable access will increase disparities between those with more privilege and those with less. Dialogue that pushes us to sort people into one of two polarized camps is not going to help us reduce harm or lead pleasurable lives—both of which are important as the second wave stretches on and we each find ourselves in our own unique set of circumstances.
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So what can we do instead? First, we need to reckon with the uncomfortable reality that, even with a raging pandemic, there will be people who want to dance and socialize. I am not saying this is ideal or aligned with public health guidelines. I am not saying this is good. I am merely saying this has been empirically demonstrated. If we take as a starting place that there will be people who do this, we can begin to seriously consider how to reduce the harm of their actions, both to themselves and the others they put at risk.
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Perhaps we can engage promoters to collaborate for on-site testing or have an anonymous notification system where attendees can inform an event coordinator if they later test positive for COVID, much like many departments of health have for STIs. Perhaps organizers can exclusively host events outdoors or set the expectation of communal one-week “party breaks,” where attendees isolate afterward and rely on one another for social support while on the bench. Approaches like these are, of course, not the same as just not throwing a dance party. But, as harm-reductionist approaches to HIV and substance use have shown, interventions that are collaboratively generated with a community are more likely to generate buy-in and real results.
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Second, we need to continue questioning the difference between community accountability and shaming. Public health and behavioral science research—much of it grounded in working with communities affected by HIV, substance use, and stigma—has conclusively demonstrated that shaming is an ineffective and unsustainable means of changing behavior on a population level. Indeed, it tends to make people less accessible to intervention by pushing them further into secrecy. Publicly decrying individuals is cathartic—hell, it is even understandable after all the devastation we’ve been through—and it may stop some people from exposing others, but it will not completely solve the problem. The most effective interventions are those that occur upstream, like preventing venues from being allowed to host large events at all.Additionally, behavior surveillance often hits unintended targets: Last week, one of the whistleblower Instagram accounts for a major U.S. city exposed a series of people’s party behavior, followed by a post publicly exposing someone’s HIV status—an unconscionable violation of privacy.
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Third, even in the most shocking of circumstances, partiers are not caricatures we can just write off as “dumb” or “bad”; they are motivated, in part, by the universal and human desires to be social and seek pleasure. The more we are able to be in touch with this reality, the more we will be able to devise an approach that also serves the rest of us—those of us who may not be at a circuit party but who have also, at times, chosen to accept some level of risk to do something meaningful to us. While the ardent partiers and those at home may look at each other’s choices with confusion or anger, the resulting dialogue needs to acknowledge that fun and safety are not all-or-nothing propositions.
A world with zero parties is probably not going to happen. (After all, if it didn’t happen now, when would it?) But the more harm-reduction options that are available, accessible, and normalized, the easier it will be for those choosing to partake to make safer choices. Establishing improved, more conscientious social lives during this pandemic is only going to be imaginable if our conversation accounts for this unruly reality. Thus far, the circuit civil war has not.
Rams coach Sean McVay smiled and then let out a whistle of excitement, and possibly relief, when asked about how kicker Matt Gay has helped his team.
“Woo. I’ll tell you what, it’s been huge. Man, he’s Mr. Automatic, as of late,” McVay said. “I think that’s something that you don’t take for granted. He’s done a great job and it looks like we found our guy for a long time, really for the future.”
It’s a luxury the Rams didn’t have earlier in the season, and one they might depend on in their NFC divisional-round road playoff game Saturday against the Green Bay Packers.
Forecasts call for temperatures at Lambeau Field for kickoff to be 20-30 degrees, with 5-10 mph winds and a 24% chance of precipitation. With the Rams quarterback situation in flux, every offensive series becomes more important, and drives might end in field-goal attempts rather than touchdowns. Gay said he is ready for the challenge.
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“I feel it’s just a mentality,” Gay said. “It’s something you have to brace your mind for before you go up there. Just trusting yourself, treating it like you would any other game and then when you get up there, just make the adjustments.”
Gay grew up and played college football at Utah, so cold weather is something he’s accustomed to, he said. The coldest temperature he remembers playing in was about 10 degrees, he said. He’s hoping the familiarity in that climate will help him perform well and add to his successful season.
Gay is the team’s third kicker since training camp. The team cut rookie Sam Sloman in October after he missed three field-goal tries and three extra-point tries in seven games. He also struggled with kickoffs. The Rams then relegated his replacement, 33-year-old Kai Forbath, to injury reserve a month later after he hurt his ankle at home against the Seattle Seahawks. He appeared in only two games, converting two of three field-goal attempts and four of five extra-point attempts.
The Rams signed Gay shortly afterward and released Forbath this month.
In his first game, Gay kicked a 40-yard field goal with a little more than two minutes remaining against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, his former team, to put the Rams up 27-24. Safety Jordan Fuller then intercepted a pass from Tom Brady to preserve the lead and the win.
So far, Gay has missed only two field-goal attempts and converted all 19 of his extra-point attempts.
“We’re thankful for him,” receiver Robert Woods said. “He’s just been consistent and able to knock them down. He’s putting up points for us, and we’ll need him to stay that way.”
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Punter Johnny Hekker, who also acts as holder, said he and Gay developed a good relationship. They texted during his onboarding process and now spend the majority of practices together.
“He’s a steady guy,” Hekker said. “He’s funny and likes to crack jokes. He’s a guy that’s got good energy to him, is attentive in meetings and then on the field when it’s time to kick, he’s about his business and is a true professional in that regard.”
Hekker said the cold weather shouldn’t affect their process. He doesn’t plan to wear gloves, but said the elements might make him focus more on catching the snap cleanly. The Rams’ facility in Thousand Oaks also experiences wind, he said, so he thinks he and Gay will be prepared.
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“It’s awesome to have confidence in a guy that we have in Matt,” Hekker said. “It just puts the mind at ease and allows us to fully utilize that position and in a way that we can be attacking. We just have full confidence every time we send him out there that no kick is too big or too far away and that he’s got the leg strength and the ability to split the pipes.”
Kicking in
How the Rams’ kickers have fared this season. Gay’s numbers include one playoff game in which he made all three field-goal and point-after attempts:
KAI FORBATH (2 games, 2 for 3): 20-29, 2 for 2; 30-39, 0 for 0; 40-49, 0 for 1; 50+, 0 for 0; XP, 4 for 5 SAM SLOMAN (7 games, 8 for 11): 20-29, 2 for 3; 30-39, 5 for 5; 40-49, 1 for 2; 50+, 0 for 1; XP 18 of 21 MATT GAY (8 games, 17 for 19): 20-29, 2 for 2; 30-39, 7 for 8; 40-49, 7 for 8; 50+, 1 for 1; XP 19 for 19
Those two words became the rallying cry against locker room-centric homophobia, starting with a surge in professional athletes and sports figures coming out with their sexual orientation in 2013.
The first significant player was NBA veteran Jason Collins, who came out in April of 2013. A few months later, college defensive line Michael Sam came out to his Missouri teammates, and became the first openly gay pro football player on a roster when the St. Louis Rams drafted him in 2014. In 2013, WNBA star Brittney Griner publicly came out as lesbian in a profile with USA TODAY Sports.
The number of athletes coming out increased during the second term of President Barack Obama, and as same-sex marriage was legalized by the Supreme Court in June of 2015. Milwaukee Brewers minor leaguer David Denson came out as gay that August. In October, Bryant University men’s basketball assistant Chris Burns became the first Division I men’s coach in college basketball to come out publicly in a profile with USA TODAY Sports, drawing the praise of Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski.
“I think we did see a domino effect of athletes coming out in high-profile sports,” said San Diego Loyal soccer player Collin Martin, currently the only publicly out male athlete in any of the major American sports. “It’s clear that a lot of progress happened under Barack Obama’s administration. Sadly, sports (have) been slower to show the same type of LGBTQ representation as other entertainment fields, but that political progress still extended to (sports).”
Though there’s no known official data, a lot of that progress, LGBTQ activists believe, was slowed when President Donald Trump entered the White House in 2017.
Trump’s war of words with professional athletes has been well documented. LGBTQ advocates also argue that Trump’s policies went beyond disputes and were discriminatory to their community, particularly to the transgender community, where Trump oversaw the rollback of rights targeting them.
The Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) created the Trump Accountability Act, a resource which catalogues the anti-LGBTQ statements and actions of the Trump administration.
“I wasn’t going to let Trump’s Presidency or a tougher time politically affect my decision to come out,” said Martin, who came out in 2018 when he played for the MLS’ Minnesota United. “More than ever, we need athletes to come out in the public spotlight. Female athletes are way ahead of male athletes still because homophobic language isn’t as pervasive (for girls) as it is for boys in youth sports.”
There’s been a lengthy examination of Trump and race in sports, beginning with Colin Kaepernick and the NFL protests in 2016, and the vociferous objections to Trump’s racial policies and views from NBA stars such as LeBron James and Gregg Popovich.
What’s rarely been publicly examined is Trump’s impact on the LGBTQ community as it relates to sports, and how the relationship will change as the presidency shifts from Trump to Biden.
Did Trump’s presidency play a part in slowing the overall progress in the sports realm – where there’s been a shortage of openly gay high-profile athletes in men’s sports – as compared to Obama’s second term? And will Biden’s presumed lack of resistance to LGBTQ issues act as a sail instead of a wall as Trump did?
Assessing Trump’s impact on the LGBTQ community is in some ways obvious, and in others it isn’t. After all, the coming-out stories haven’t exactly stopped over the last four years. Just in October of 2019, NFL free agent Ryan Russell came out as bisexual.
But as Joe Biden’s presidency is set to begin on Inauguration Day on Wednesday, it may not take long to see the difference in how the Biden and Trump administrations treat the LGBTQ community.
“It’s hard to say Donald Trump hasn’t played a significant role in impeding progress for LGBTQ people as a whole,” said Greenburgh-North Castle (New York) High School athletic director Anthony Nicodemo, a gay high school basketball coach who teaches politics. “Then in the sports world, where homophobia and toxic masculinity already exist, we’re talking about a lot of fear factors that can make being your true self challenging.”
Biden announced that in his first 100 days in office he’s pledging to enact the Equality Act – federal legislation that would add LGBTQ protections to existing federal civil rights law.
“The rainbow flag was waving for the Obama administration,” Nicodemo said. “The natural climate was rolled back culturally with Trump simply remaining silent (on LGBTQ) issues. We saw a seismic shift after the (George W.) Bush administration because Obama was a ground-breaker as an African-American. Joe Biden is not a groundbreaker, even with Kamala Harris as a vice president. But having a president (in Biden) who I believe has great empathy for all people will go a long way.”
Waiting on a big name
Despite all the inclusive progress in the sports world over the past decade, there has yet to be a prominent All-Star or Pro Bowl name in a top-five men’s sport to come out.
“Coming out of the closet is about your own personal timeline so coming out stories will happen in waves,” said former NFL player Ryan O’Callaghan, who came out after retiring in June of 2017 near the start of Trump’s presidency, and now says he counsels several closeted professional athletes. “But fear plays a large factor as a societal (force) and nothing about Trump’s presidency felt safe to anyone who is closeted. Coming out as gay is going to continue to be a big deal or news story for athletes until it’s a regular occurrence. We’re not there yet.”
Billy Bean, the MLB’s Vice President and Special Assistant to the Commissioner, said the political climate could’ve played a slight factor in an athlete’s personal decision to stay closeted.
“Over the last several years, people have been rewarded for divisive activity, especially on social media, and the (political) culture galvanized people who maybe were afraid to be homophobic or racist,” Bean said. “Culture is not easy to change. Homophobia and racism and most men feminizing each other growing up have been built over 100 years so it takes a while to take that wall down.”
LGBTQ expert Cyd Zeigler, the co-founder of Outsports – an online magazine that showcases athletes and their coming-out stories – said other measuring sticks are more important than Trump’s influence. He notes that the number of athletes who have come out skyrocketed since 2013 when 77 athletes (including high school and different college divisions) came out publicly.
Outsports tracked 184 coming-out stories in 2017. Zeigler said that female athletes’ coming out stories, in particular, have significantly increased.
“Who is in the White House is like the 12th most important influence for not coming out,” Zeigler said. “Donald Trump is not homophobic so I don’t think we’re going to see an incredible wave of people coming out because of the Biden administration. If anything, (Biden’s) presidency could just accelerate the momentum already in place.
“The No. 1 (detriment) in athletes coming out is pro athletes and their agents who will say coming out is too risky.”
To some, Sam’s coming out experience is a cautionary tale. Sam, citing mental health reasons, abruptly retired in 2015. Sam said in a February 2019 speech that he regretted coming out when he did and added “the NFL gave me a raw deal.”
Sam never played a game with the Rams after being drafted in the seventh round as the reigning SEC defensive player of the year. He later became a practice-squad player with the Dallas Cowboys and had a brief stint with the CFL’s Montréal Alouettes. Sam’s agents at the time encouraged him to go on “Dancing with the Stars” shortly before his retirement.
“You can’t ignore what happened there,” O’Callaghan said. “Michael had a media circus focusing on his sexuality and I think the PR team he had in place didn’t serve him well. But it’s unfair to suggest he didn’t make the team because of his sexual orientation.
“One thing I do tell guys, if they come out, is that your play on the field has to speak louder than everyone in the media or public talking about your sexuality. I think a great political comparison is Pete Buttigieg. At first, he was known as the ‘gay politician.’ But then all the sudden he stood out because he was bright, elegant and a war veteran. Then the gay title was taken out and he was Mayor Pete. Being gay was a part of who he was. It has to be the same kind of thing for an athlete.”
‘Braver … in some ways’
LGBTQ athletes and advocates say Trump’s presidency amplified the need for bravery.
Publicly out women’s soccer star Megan Rapinoe famously fought with Trump over social media during the 2019 Women’s World Cup. Rapinoe was quoted as saying to Trump, “your message is excluding people that look like me. …you’re harking back to an era that was not great for everyone.”
“The President of the United States sets the tone for the country and I think Trump’s discrimination made it less safe but it made us braver as a country in some ways,” Nicodemo said. “What happened in the last four years for the country was a social justice movement that actually got us somewhere now as a country we’ve never been before – ready for serious change. We don’t have an out athlete in the NBA, the NFL, the MLB or the NHL. It’s hard to imagine that will stay the same with our country being more welcoming at the top.”
Zeigler said there’s an inevitability for more publicly out male athletes based on the generational transformation. In 2019, there were eight publicly out college football players and those eight were more in one year than anyone else who came before them combined.
“These closeted athletes spend their whole professional lives living in fear that they’ll be outed, but if there’s a safe locker room environment that says, ‘this is OK,’ then that changes,” Zeigler said. “Imagine living your life fearing a tiger ready to pounce on you and kill you. That’s what it feels like to be closeted and not want your teammates or the public to find out. But when your teammates accept you, then you believe the world can, too.”
That inevitability for change is highlighted in the political arena where 334 openly LGBTQ candidates won office in the 2020 elections – the highest ever mark in any election year.
Bean, who came out as gay at the end of his MLB playing days in 1999, said a new era has been ushered in to offset fear walls of the past thanks to more inclusiveness in younger generations and advocacy work atop sports leagues.
“There’s no question the data suggests we’re seeing a higher number of scholastic and college-level students to come out because they’re inundated with amazing friends. Peer acceptance is 90% of the decision,” Bean said. “We’ve been building the cornerstone for acceptance at the highest level, and there’s been a cultural shift in locker rooms. When I was a player, I was listening to what the stars were saying and I felt like their language told me to keep my secret. Now, the stars are being inclusive. That alone makes us ready to have more athletes come out.
“I would rather a player in environment where a (closeted) athlete feels loved and accepted for a while before make decision to publicly come out. I think we’re there.”
Follow national sports enterprise reporter Scott Gleeson on Twitter @ScottMGleeson.
Ex-pro golfer Maya Reddy speaks to Sky Sports about Justin Thomas’ casual use of homophobic language and apology; Reddy feels ‘ease’ with which offensive word was used shows issues facing golf on inclusion; Thomas heard using slur while playing in Sentry Tournament of Champions
By Jon Holmes
Last Updated: 13/01/21 4:31pm
0:42 Justin Thomas’ casual use of homophobic language reflects an aspect of golf that is not inclusive, says former professional Maya Reddy who quit the sport after experiencing discrimination
Justin Thomas’ casual use of homophobic language reflects an aspect of golf that is not inclusive, says former professional Maya Reddy who quit the sport after experiencing discrimination
Maya Reddy, who quit pro golf after facing bigotry for being gay, says the sport must learn from Justin Thomas’ casual use of homophobic language.
Reddy, who is South Asian and grew up in California, qualified in 2016 at the age of 23 to play on the Symetra Tour – the LPGA’s developmental tour – but never competed in any events after deciding to walk away from the sport due to incidents of discrimination and a lack of inclusivity in the culture of professional golf.
Reddy feels the ‘ease’ with which Thomas used the slur word emphasises the cultural issues facing golf
Reacting to the weekend incident involving Thomas, she told Sky Sports News the former world No 1 had used “a violent slur against a marginalised community” when he made an audible homophobic comment on day three at the Sentry Tournament of Champions.
Thomas issued an apology following his third round after he was heard using the offensive term ‘f****t’ following a missed putt on the fourth green, expressing his disappointment with his “inexcusable” language that was picked up by a greenside microphone.
0:52 Thomas vowed to learn from his ‘terrible judgement call’ after using a homophobic slur during the Sentry Tournament of Champions
Thomas vowed to learn from his ‘terrible judgement call’ after using a homophobic slur during the Sentry Tournament of Champions
He has also vowed to “get better” and said: “I wish that I could learn to grow a different way than the way that I chose to do it, but unfortunately it’s in the past and there’s nothing I can do about it now.”
Reddy said: “I’m kind of in two minds about it. I think the fact that he apologised about it so quickly and with force, saying that this wasn’t OK and that he should do better, is really important because he acknowledges the harm that using that specific slur causes.
“I think the PGA Tour saying that it wasn’t OK and acknowledging the harm it causes is also very important.
Reddy described Thomas’ comment as ‘a violent slur against a marginalised community’
“That being said, what is frustrating for me and many who watched this play out, was that it was so easy for him to jump to that word.
“I was talking to a friend about this. I remember I had a caddie in a big tournament who berated me for using the other ‘f-word’, not the homophobic slur.
“I had pulled a drive and used the word and was completely berated by my caddie, who said, ‘you can’t say that as a professional athlete’.
Reddy feels it is important Thomas apologised immediately for the homophobic slur
“Whether you like it or not, because of the platform you have, you are a role model so you have to act accordingly.
“So I do sympathise with the need to shout when you miss a putt like Thomas did. However, the fact that the word he used was a violent slur against a marginalised community, is really important to take note of.
“The question is, why was it almost second nature for him to use that word? For Thomas to use a word that has been used discriminately and violently against gay communities, with such ease, shows that golf still has this culture embedded within it.
“It also demonstrates that golf is rooted in this very particular culture, and golf hasn’t always been a very inclusive sport. When you see something like this happen, it emphasises that exclusive culture.”
Reddy says a lot of the abuse she received during her career was done under the ‘guise of a joke’ but made her feel as though she did not belong on a golf course.
“Once you start playing professionally, it’s just you, and as many golfers know, it’s a grind to get to the LPGA Tour or the PGA Tour,” she said.
“Golf is a very lonely sport because you’re travelling a lot and every week you’re at a new tournament, so that was the first time I was out on my own.
“Unfortunately, the thrust of my professional career was in the lead-up to Trump’s 2016 election. At that time, there seemed to be permission given to people to say things and be more blatantly hateful. Unfortunately, again, I experienced a lot of that on the golf course.
“I had tournament directors on mini-tours say xenophobic, racist, and homophobic things to me on the first tee, in the guise of a joke.
“Which makes it difficult, because as soon as you say something in response, they question your sense of humour and say they’re only joking.
Reddy says xenophobic, racist and homophobic jokes would be said to her during her time on the golf course
“Even though I knew I was good – I mean, I was playing professionally – I felt like I just didn’t belong there and had to constantly prove I had a place on this golf course.
“I would overhear people saying xenophobic and essentially Islamophobic things, and it was very hard to hear that.”
Coming out as gay helped, Reddy says, but the feeling of not belonging was one which was too powerful for her to overcome, and led to her retirement as a professional.
“Living openly and more authentically let me be a better player and less afraid,” she said. “But it was the thing of constantly going into a place that I loved and being told that I didn’t belong there in so many different ways, that was really difficult.
“I was trying to play a professional sport and negotiate all my identities and keep myself sane.
“I ended up having a mental and emotional breakdown and had to step away from the sport.”
This incident shouldn’t stop at just an apology (no matter how meaningful it was) & should show us all that there is so much work to still be done in golf and all sports to combat exclusive and discriminatory competitive cultures that so often stem from toxic masculinity. 7/7
Now 27, Reddy is currently pursuing a legal degree, and she also advocates for greater LGBTQ+ inclusion in sport as an ambassador for the organisation Athlete Ally.
She is interested in the possibility of a return to competitive golf in the future and hopes the important conversations sparked by the Thomas incident are channeled into actions that make the sport more welcoming and ultimately, more diverse.
“For me, as a queer golfer of colour, what has always been important is that acknowledgement that our experiences on the course or just walking into a club are a little bit different than our straight, white, cisgender counterparts,” she added.
“When we’re acknowledging that, when we’re creating space for that and working towards an understanding of why these exclusive attitudes are continuing, it’s a small but powerful step to break down the age-old, country-club cultures that are so definitive of the sport.”
While Reddy was not playing on the LPGA Tour at the time, Sky Sports News invited the LPGA to respond to her comments about her experiences in US women’s golf in 2016. They declined to do so.
Hate Won’t Stop Us
2:21 This is the message from Sky Sports presenters and reporters, who have united in supporting a new campaign aimed at raising awareness of online hate and abuse on social media
This is the message from Sky Sports presenters and reporters, who have united in supporting a new campaign aimed at raising awareness of online hate and abuse on social media
Sky Sports is committed to making skysports.com and our channels on social media platforms a place for comment and debate that is free of abuse, hate and profanity.
If you see a reply to Sky Sports posts and/or content with an expression of hate on the basis of race, colour, gender, nationality, ethnicity, disability, religion, sexuality, age or class, please copy the URL to the hateful post or screengrab it and email us here.
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Barbie promoted the “love wins” T-shirts, designed to raise money for the Trevor Project and help LGBT+ youth in crisis. (Instagram/ BarbieStyle)
Despite a viral tweet making the rounds, unfortunately Barbie does not have a girlfriend and is not (as far as we know) a member of the LGBT+ community.
On Monday (11 January), a queer Twitter user posted that she had “JUST LEARNED BARBIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND”.
The tweet, which has been retweeted almost 15,000 times already, shows a photo of Barbie with another female doll, both wearing t-shirts that read “love wins”, alongside a Google result for a 2017 story claiming Mattel had given “Barbie her first girlfriend”.
Twitter users were ecstatic, with one writing: “Big win for everyone that made their Barbie dolls scissor when they were kids.”
Big win for Everyone that made their Barbie dolls scissor when they were kids
Another said: “Sapphic Barbie, this makes me really happy!!”
But unfortunately, Barbie never actually came out, and the second doll in the photo was never intended to be her girlfriend.
The VT article, misleadingly headlined “Barbie finally has a girlfriend and here’s what she looks like”, referred to a 2017 post on the Instagram account Barbie Style in collaboration with designer and fashion blogger Aimee Song.
Mattel created a doll for Song, as well as miniature versions of her “love wins” t-shirt, to promote the designer who was raising money for the Trevor Project to help LGBT+ youth in crisis.
The Instagram caption read: “Proud to wear this ‘Love Wins’ shirt with @songofstyle! Did you know that her exclusive t-shirts benefit different causes and non-profits?
“Such an inspiring initiative and fabulous few days I have spent with Aimee, she’s a doll!”
Song released the t-shirt for Pride month, and explained on her blog that she is an “ally, and someone who really believes that love wins”.
The Creatable World dolls come with short hair and a longer wig, as well as various items of clothing that include “masculine” and “feminine” options, so children can customise its gender expression with more than 100 combinations.
Monica Dreger, head of consumer insights at Mattel, told TIME Magazine at the time: “There were a couple of gender-creative kids who told us that they dreaded Christmas Day because they knew whatever they got under the Christmas tree, it wasn’t made for them.
“This is the first doll that you can find under the tree and see is for them because it can be for anyone.”
