Ugh, I hate early mornings for a wide variety of reasons. So when I rolled into the office at some ungodly hour, it took all of my strength to make it to the coffee. While I was greeting the day, my co-worker sauntered into work, and engages in his usual non-sensical ramblings. I was generally not paying attention, when all of a sudden he mentions this Teen Vogue article about how gay men are this season’s hottest accessory. Though flattered by the presumption that I am “in” and go perfectly with everything, I am more than taken aback by the article.

I have been called many a things in my long illustrious life; fag, queer, homo, queen, he, she, it, girl, fairy, and so on. However, I have never been called an accessory before. What a great message to send the adolescents of America. There is this population of individuals, who are kind of like you, except they take it up the butt from guys and so they are intrinsically and irrevocably different from the normal population. Now they might not be good enough to be in the military, be trusted with your children – let alone have ones of their own – or morally sound enough to get married but by god if you’re looking for the perfect addition to any outfit “BUY A GAY!” You can dress them up for formal events or dress them down for a day at the mall or a lifetime movie marathon.

This concept is not new. I remember a few years ago the fad of the “gay boyfriend” was extremely popular for discontent straight girls. A gay boyfriend, someone with whom to do everything your actual boyfriend doesn’t want to do. Your boyfriend doesn’t want to cuddle? Get yourself a gay boyfriend. Your man doesn’t want to go see the latest Twilight installment? No worries, your gay boyfriend has already purchased tickets from Fandango.

While I was reading the article this image came into my mind of Lindsay Lohan or Parish Hilton walking down the street with some overpriced handbag when all of sudden a little twinky gay boy’s head pops out from the handbag and says “fabulous” or “divine” or makes a judgmental remark before retreating back into the handbag.

I don’t know why it frustrates me so much. I can stand before all the bigots, haters, and zealots out there, listen to their shit, crack a smile, and burst into a live performance of “Don’t Rain on my Parade”. However ignorant people who want to deny us rights & treat us as non-sexual ken dolls, while at the same time viewing us as some fashion commodity, really sickens me … unless it is Lady Gaga who wants to have me as an accessory and then I am totally comfortable and ok with it.

Check out the full article here