From the Editor: And the Band Played On: Of Celebration and Celebrity

This is a celebratory issue. Paired up with our annual New Restaurant Guide & Preview, we’re also highlighting 20 restaurant picks from this 20th anniversary of the Dining Out for Life program in Minnesota, benefiting The Aliveness Project. Congratulations to everyone who has made this program happen year after year—it’s quite an achievement.

With the way history has been developing at a breakneck speed lately, 20 years was a very long time ago. But, when we’re talking about HIV and AIDS, it’s better to let time slow itself down for the people living with it, as long as we keep the development of ways to fight and treat it at full-bore. A diagnosis of HIV and/or AIDS was once considered an undeniable—and somewhat immediate—death sentence, but now we’re seeing people live longer with a higher quality of life, thanks to reliable diagnoses, medical and therapeutic treatments, and programs to assist them as well as their families and friends.

My early memories of seeing the topics of HIV and AIDS in my young life are from around 24 years ago, when I was 13 years old and living in rural Minnesota. Elton John elevated our awareness with his compassion and involvement in the plight of Ryan White, a young man who contracted HIV via blood transfusion as part of his treatment for hemophilia, who died on April 8, 1990, at the age of 18. Then, I saw the movie And the Band Played On which was produced and aired on HBO in 1993, just over 20 years ago. Somehow, out in rural Cokato where nobody had HIV or AIDS (to our knowledge), we saw the movie on PBS or broadcast television (since we didn’t have cable) and taped it on a VHS to watch and rewatch for years to come. Because of our relative isolation from the issue in our rural area, the film was a shocking and admirable piece of work that formed me in how I view large- and small-scale fear and confusion as well as politics, power, and celebrity. I’m still thankful that my parents knew the value of such a film and allowed me to learn from the mature subjects covered in it.

And the Band Played On was written by Randy Shilts and published in 1987 as a book full of investigative journalism, a chronicle of the time between the late 1970s through 1985, the time during which HIV and AIDS were discovered and the political problems and indifference that ensued, largely because it was perceived to be a gay issue. The book was adapted to be a film that was directed by Robert Spottiswoode and was similar to Robert Altman films of the early ‘90s that tended to be chock full of popular contemporary celebrities of the era. But, in this case, rather than as somewhat gratuitous Altman-style cameos, the star power in And the Band Played On was focusing a light on the mishandling and misunderstandings surrounding the early years of HIV and AIDS in the United States. The cast included Matthew Modine, Alan Alda, Phil Collins, Richard Gere, Glenne Headly, Anjelica Huston, Swoosie Kurtz, Steve Martin, Ian McKellen, Saul Rubinek, Lily Tomlin, BD Wong, and so many other actors who gave their names, talent, and attention to this film. They played people who were infected, people who loved people who were infected, people who feared they were a part of the infection, and people who were responsible for figuring out what the infection actually was, how it could be diagnosed, and how it could be treated. The roles that weren’t generally played by celebrities were those of President Reagan and other politicians who were blocking funding and impeding awareness, to say the least. What these celebrities did for the film was give faces to the fear; they gave a greater incentive for the viewers to have more interest in seeing the piece; they diffused and decreased the stigma attached to people with HIV and AIDS; and they put high-profile pressure on making sure HIV and AIDS stay at the fore of our collective concern for the well-being of people in our country and around the globe.

The power of celebrity is still so very important to the social issues of our lives. International celebrities like Elton John and Sir Ian McKellen stuck their necks out for these issues over 20 years ago. Globally—and nationally—stigma has decreased and awareness has increased for people who have HIV and AIDS, thanks to the celebrities like them who use their influence to help the campaign. Locally, we have a similar campaign that has been gaining momentum through Dining Out for Life for the past 20 years as well, gaining in its reach and fundraising efficacy with each passing year. In recent history, Dining Out for Life has gone from being fronted solely by local celebrity, Sven Sundgaard, of KARE 11, to also including Rena Sarigianopoulos for the past two years and now Blake McCoy this year as well, also of KARE 11. On behalf of Lavender, I added another KARE 11 mainstay, Pat Evans, and multi-platform food expert, Joy Summers, to the mix and suddenly we’ve got as many celebrities as our cover can handle.

And what a cover it is. With five wonderful people and their own circles of influence, Dining Out for Life can continue its work to raise awareness and do good for people living with HIV and AIDS. In addition to the people fronting the campaign, the list of participating restaurants is long and varied, with a number of them upping the percentage they donate to The Aliveness Project each year, it seems. Reservations are being made and filling up seats across the Metro Area, people are signing up to tell people about the work of The Aliveness Project at all the meals at each participating restaurant, and the town will be painted red, black, and white on April 24.

There aren’t any restaurants participating in Dining Out for Life in my rural hometown. But, the fact that Sven, Rena, Blake, Pat, and Joy are spreading the word about the event as far as their broadcasts, tweets, Facebook posts, and words can reach means that a 13-year old kid in my hometown can learn about Dining Out for Life, The Aliveness Project, and HIV/AIDS prevention and treatment anyway.

It’s a use of celebrity to celebrate.

See you on the 24th,
Andy

From the Editor: Style, Lifestyle, and Identity

I confessed that I don’t pay much attention to what’s fashionable or stylish a few issues ago, which was unfair of me. It’s easier to say that I don’t pay attention to style than it is to explain how I pay attention to style. I notice people first, and what they’re presenting second. Labels don’t get on my radar unless I’m seeing the person attached to them; this person designed this piece. Accessories register as punctuation in a person’s paragraph. Shoes make them taller or unstable or sturdy or reflective. A jacket too short for the suitcoat beneath it makes the person appear a little scattered or unaware.

What a person is wearing only registers with me when it is made significant by the person wearing it.

In the GLBTQ community, A butch presents differently than a femme, but nothing presented allows for assumptions to be made because everyone is allowed to self-identify. Jewelry on men means nothing significant in this day and age, whereas some of it used to indicate membership in this community, both stereotypically and accurately. Punk hair colors and tattoos might mean a person is queer, or just a fan of the look. Colors of leather and latex and hankies (and the Pride flags that go with them) can indicate where someone falls in different groups according to preferences and kink involvement. Beards and bellies on men, and their different ages and sizes, can signify bears, cubs, otters, and the like. Dykes on Bikes might include lesbians as well as transgender people.

When is something considered style and when is it a symbol of belonging to a subculture?

Back in 2002, I pulled a book off a shelf at what was probably a Patina or Bibelot book section; it looks more gifty than book-like: The Art and Power of Being a Lady by Noelle Cleary and Dini Von Mueffling. At the time, I believe I was fundraising for orphans and was probably interested in tearing it apart with my Women’s & Gender Studies major that had been getting dusty on the shelf since graduating from college three years earlier.  The word “lady” had never been associated with “power” in my vernacular. Furthermore, I was constructed to find it absurd to want to buy what looked to be a self-help book about becoming a lady, let alone a powerful lady. Would I have to wear pink? Are pantyhose a requirement? Just what did this club require?

As it turns out, I bought the book. It has stayed on my shelf for every move I’ve made and it’s on my table as I write this piece, propped open to the chapter on style. The book is more progressive than I had imagined, basing itself on such a throwback term as “lady.” Despite moving away from gender norms, boxes, and stereotypes, it puts the power in my hands to determine where I’d like to fit in as a woman. And, “lady” is somewhat open to interpretation even though the whole book is based on the word; I find that one could substitute “gentleman” or just plain “decent human being” throughout the piece as it talks about manners and how we treat each other. What’s stuck with me the most through the years is its discussion of style, though. Every lady has style, but it doesn’t all look the same. Classics are chosen over trend, though trend can be incorporated. Overdressing for an occasion is preferred to underdressing as it gives the host the benefit of the doubt that the event should be held in higher esteem than erring toward too casual of an approach. A lady has a “trademark” piece or look that can always be expected of her (mine is probably a dark-framed pair of glasses, likely accompanied by Aveda blonde hair). Lastly, the best accessory is confidence, which is echoed by the sentiments of our style subjects in this issue, Richard, Ben, and Mayda.

Do I want to be a lady? Oh, let me tell you, that’s open for debate on any given day. Do I want to be a decent human being? Every damn day. So, it’s about the nuances between what is style and what is lifestyle. Style might be more about how we appear, lifestyle is likely more about how we conduct our affairs and lives. “Lifestyle” is a loaded term in this community as being gay, lesbian, bi, trans, or queer has been perverted into being a “lifestyle choice” by the people who seek to marginalize this group. But, what about lifestyle in its pure, unadulterated form? Can “lifestyle” be reclaimed as something that is empowering, just like “lady” has been?

It’s something to note that there are two instances in this issue that refer to “passing” in the transgender community. I’ve heard that it was a topic mentioned during Q&A with Janet Mock at the Macalester College SPEAK! function (Lavender Lens, page 16), that things might be easier for Mock since she “passes” so well as a beautiful woman. Then, Ellie Krug refers to “passing” as something that occurred to her, but never would have occurred to her as being something that could happen, in her column called “Oasis” (Skirting the Issues, page 58). When you consider that transitioning from one sexual identity to another, much has to do with appearance and style, and, likely, lifestyle.

Whereas it all starts so simple with an issue on Spring & Summer Style, it all branches into a tall and wide tree or arbor in a forest of diversity. The issue can be as simple or complex as we want it to be–it’s all self-defined. Or, it should be…though we can all agree that plenty of judgment and snap assumptions are made based on how we present ourselves.

Rather than answer many questions, I’m left with an abundance. Where do you see yourself in this conversation? Do you fall into a category of style that matches your lifestyle? Do you reject the terms “lady,” “gentleman,” or “lifestyle?” Are you a person who shows your pride in your culture by wearing your colors? Did you pierce your right ear back in the ‘80s to specifically indicate that you belonged to this community? Do you split lesbians into “butch” and “femme?”  Do you have a trademark accessory that you always include? I’m interested. Please share with me at [email protected]. I would very much appreciate it.

With you and in style,

Andy