Stud !” yells a classmate.
As I turn around, I realise the word is not being used to refer to me (for a change). No, she is actually staring at the glittering silver ornament embedded in my newly-pierced earlobe.
“The right ear — that’s the gay thing right?” she asks.
Yep. The right ear is the gay thing.
Or so I’d told myself as I’d braved my paralysing fear of needles at the seedy (is there any other kind?) piercing salon. A quick Google search a few days later dampens my resolve: “Recent consensus”, the Grand-Oracle-of-the-Internet aka Wikipedia informs me, “is that no ear is currently
associated with sexual orientation”. Looks like “left is right and right is wrong” is
another idea past its prime.
Oh well — at least it looked pretty.
I found myself wondering though — why had this particular code faded away? Was it indicative of a trend of codes of sexuality passing off into the realm of the obsolete? Maybe it’s just that the codes themselves have evolved? Maybe the right ear piercing of yesterday is what the fitted linen trouser is today?
One of the more famous (infamous?) of these markers is the hanky code popularised in the Seventies in the gay subcultures of the US and Europe. Differently coloured handkerchiefs placed strategically in different pockets could indicate a veritable cornucopia of sexual preference: so a navy blue on the left could indicate, simply, that you were a top, while a mauve on the right indicated a navel fetish.
This also meant the code, was initially, and for quite some time, restricted to male sexual encounters: a trend which seems to be in the process of reconfiguration. As queer flagging blog Flagging Opinicus Rampant informs me, “young queers, especially queer women and trans men, are getting together to rewrite flagging language to reflect (and construct) their ideas about sex and sexuality.”
Interestingly, the flaggers exalt the code to a revolutionary way of having frank conversations about sex. In the end, they maintain, talking about the specifics of sex is an essential part of practicing safer sex.
Can you, however, be too obvious to the point of ridicule? I’ve managed it — there’s a proud triangular rainbow sticker my slung-around-shoulder bag has displayed prominently for a year and a half now. What was once a symbol of my out-and-proudness became an embarrassing intrusion as I walked into one of the more judgmental gay bars in London. A potentially friendly figure draped his hand around my shoulder, stared at the little triangle, looked around at his crew for approval and wisecracked, “Oh boys, looks like this one MIGHT be gay”. Even Madonna wailing away in the background couldn’t drown out the titters.
The Rainbow symbol itself is only six-sevenths rainbow, comprised of six colours with the indigo missing. This version seems to have been popular since 1979, with the Oracle informing me that the number of stripes were reduced to an even number to prevent the middle colour from being hidden when hung vertically on lamp-posts.
“Frank conversations” aside, maybe codes simply aren’t required anymore. Considering that these markers of identity came up at a time when alternative sexuality was buried deep underground, smoke signals to a reality that remained oft-unacknowlegded. Perhaps, it’s also that the code simply can’t be used anymore. Now, with multiple realities emerging day by day, in a freewheeling world where men can be women who like women who don’t have to necessarily be either — what permutations and combinations could we possibly use to flag and tag this multitude of identity?
Me, I’m old school. I often bluster about the fluidity of sexuality, I occasionally wax eloquent on moving past posited notions of identity and yet in the end — I’ve always been one for tags.
Sadly, it seemed that for me, an ear piercing was just going to remain just, well, an ear piercing.
And then the other day, I was standing on one side of a busy street as a downpour built up. A good samaritan offered me dry passage across the street under his umbrella. “Nice earring” he winked at me, as we reached the other side, and I noticed his disarming smile.
And then again, maybe not?
— Danish is a law student. He can be contacted at danishsheikh26@gmail.com. He also blogs at danspeak.blogspot.com