Every Tuesday night, I regret being a heterosexual male. Now,
before I’m showered with invitations to Magnolia’s, let me explain
why–I am a slob. My interests in classical music favor Bon Jovi
instead of Bach. If I shave before going out, it must be a really
special night, and I consider the oversize Terminator 2 poster in
my dorm room to be the pinnacle of art deco. Thankfully, there is
hope. You see, I discovered the secret weapon that women have known
about for ages: the gay friend.

Some critics have unfairly derided “Queer Eye” as a novelty act
riding the recent “Will and Grace”-inspired trend for more
flamboyantly gay characters on television. “Queer Eye” works
because, unlike most reality shows, it is genuinely benevolent in
nature. The Fab Five aren’t set up to be ridiculed for their
frequently outrageous antics, nor are they mean to the hapless
loser on his way from drab to fab. Sure, Carson is especially fond
of sexual innuendo around his pupils, but it is good-natured fun
throughout.

At the show’s end, the Fab Five watch anxiously as their
prot�g� makes his first steps as a cultured man. Many
of the shows best laughs occur when the straight man inevitably
lapses into old habits to the horror of his “fairy godfathers.”

If there’s one casualty to the “Queer Eye” phenomenon, it may be
the average gay man’s ability to slack. While straight guys reap
the rewards of this cultural renaissance, the Fab Five need an
internal affairs division to look after the gay slobs out there.
Surely the timeless appeal of a good Def Leppard album is not lost
on the gay community.