You can't wear THAT fabric in the summer! - A Man's Man Watches Project Runway

You see, I like to think of myself as an athlete, but if you review the evidence, nothing’s further from the truth.

Steve Dominey’s Athletic Portfolio:
1985-2002 – Played sports (poorly).
2002-2008 – Watched sports (on TV).

In fact, things have gotten so bad that I’m considering procreating just to have someone to toss the ball around with.

I also think of myself as a “man’s man,” but, well, see for yourself:

Steve Dominey’s Man’s Man Portfolio:
Receding hairline.
Enjoys all you can eat buffets.
Gave a girl an orgasm once… maybe.

Not bad, but there’s a lot of tools missing from that box.  For instance, I can’t fix a leaky sink, shingle a roof or put together furniture from Ikea. And my last fistfight was in grade 8.  That’s why I’ve always used pop culture to bolster my manhood and fill in those genomes I failed to inherit from my dad.  Not just by watching sports, but by rallying against girly things like Friends, Patrick Dempsey, and Ellen “Isn’t watching me dance entertaining?” DeGeneres.   My manhood is, however, now being threatened, and I blame my girlfriend.  First it was Kevin Costner’s Robin Hood, then it was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which turned into Veronica Mars and now we’re at the almost unspeakable… Project Runway.

I told you. She’s like Lorena Bobbitt with a PVR, instead of a knife.

After coming out of the TV closet, I immediately tried to find others like me. I did this by taking long evening strolls in city parks, frequenting Minnesota airport bathrooms and going to Richard Gere’s IMDB page.  When that didn’t work, I googled Project Runway. Turns out that almost a third of the show’s 5 million American viewers are red-blooded, beer swigging men.  (And I think the majority of us would be lying if we said we watched it for Heidi Klum.)

So, why Project Runway? 

Because while it is gay (almost all of the contestants and two of the show’s personalities are gay), it’s not, well, gay.  Unlike Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (admittedly, my only gay reference point – not counting that one “Will and Grace” experiment in college), Project Runway’s gay characters aren’t blatant characterizations. They’re real people.  Real gay people doing what real gay people do best: making clothes.

Before I’m forced to issue an apology, hear me out. While a TV program portraying gay men as great doctors, lawyers or teachers would seemingly be more progressive, in those shows the character’s “gayness” would almost always become central to the plot.  On Project Runway, while a competitor’s sexual preference is evident, it’s unimportant.  And let’s face it, just as straight men dream of being professional hockey players or rock stars, gay men dream of becoming fashion designers (or at the very least, interior decorators).   Fashion is at the apex of gay culture. And it’s fascinating to watch these talented gay men in their element.

The show’s co-hosted by Tim Gunn, a well-dressed, well-spoken gay man with impeccable taste and a ridiculously pleasant demeanor.  American designer Michael Kors is one of the judges on the show. He’s funny, incisive and best of all, nothing like Randy Jackson.  While I can’t say Gunn and Kors are great role models for gay men, I can certainly say they’re incredible gay ambassadors to heterosexual guys everywhere.

The contestants on the recently completed Season 4 were equally endearing. Sure, they teared up (Ricky), resembled Nathan Lane in The Birdcage (Chris) and coined “fierce” as a catchphrase (the eventual winner Christian Siriano), but their gayness (there’s that word again) wasn’t the least bit obnoxious. Unlike Chet on Survivor: Micronesia for instance, or almost every gay couple that’s appeared on the Amazing Race.  These guys competed like men (minus the playoff beards) and relied solely on their talent. 

That’s because Project Runway doesn’t rely on manufactured drama (ie. Big Brother, The Hills). Episodes revolve around challenges and results, not squabbling, back-stabbing contestants. Sure there’s bitching, but gay competitors stop well short of bitch-slapping.  In that way, Project Runway shares a lot of in common with sports. As the Seattle Times notes in a 2006 article, “Both deal with a high level of skill, both demand performance under pressure and both hinge on the intrigue of competition.”  And better yet, there’s not much talk of angled seam-lines, tapering or the difference between a sheath and a halter dress. Competitors get their fabric and get to work. When time’s up, they show us what they’ve made.

That’s when I become Karl Lagerfeld.

“Ooh, that dress is terrible.”

“You can’t wear that fabric in the summer.”

“Sweet P is getting voted off for sure!”

Keep in mind, I wore sweatpants until grade 9 and have never sported a scarf or Capri pants.  Needless to say, I don’t know what I’m talking about.  But that’s the fun of Project Runway. Glimpsing into a world you don’t understand and learning it’s not as bad as a young boy from a remote northern community might think.

So, without further adieu…

Steve Dominey’s Gay Portfolio:
Watches Project Runway.
Reads Entertainment Weekly.
Listens to Morrissey.

Not a lot there, but sadly, more impressive than both my resume as an athlete and as a man’s man.

Auf wiedersehen.

© 2008 Steve Dominey; licensee (Cult)ure Magazine.
This is an Open Access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

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