Making the Gay Pride Flag More Inclusive
I’ve been anti-homophobia nearly my whole adult life, but have always been a little iffy on gay pride. Does being gay not come to one as naturally as eye color or blood type? How does it make sense that one would be proud of something that came naturally? Speaking of gay pride, I think, reinforces the homophobic belief that being gay is a chosen lifestyle. Sure, I started out straight, but: bo-RING, y’all! I, free-spirited and adventurous as I am, went for the gusto, the antipathy of the benighted be damned! I have for decade believed that gay pride should have been called gay lack of shame. And yes, I do acknowledge that it hasn’t the same pizzazz, that it’s less zingy.
Almost from the get-go, inclusiveness-minded designers have been tinkering with the familiar rainbow flag, originally conceived by the San Francisco drag queen Gilbert Baker (who, in response to speculation that his original flag was inspired by Judy Garland’s “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, quite wonderfully scoffed, “Nope. The Stones’ ‘She’s a Rainbow”). In June 2017, for instance, the Philadelphia Office of LGBT Affairs unleashed the “More Colors, More Pride” flag, whose black and brown stripes honor those of more melanin — and could hardly be more visually discordant with the stripes beneath them.
(LGBT, Philadelphia, but no IQA+? How exclusionary!)
Those black and brown stripes simply weren’t good enough for some, who are happier with the spectacularly hideous Queer People of Color Flag, whose creator has (understandably) not been identified. I’m guessing he or she (or they, for those whose pronoun remains in flux) was a high school art student whose work was inspiring his, her, or their teacher to seriously contemplate early retirement.
To say that I find the Ally Pride flag — presumably flown by straight people who support gay pride, but don’t want to be seen as gay —as a crime against graphic design isn’t to suggest that I don’t find the Valentino Vecchetti flag even worse on its own terms. Trying for unprecedented inclusiveness, it succeeds only in showing that wokeness doth not good design make.
There are now alternative gay pride flags beyond counting, all intended to honor heretofore-underrepresented erotic (or celibate!) minorities. For instance, Monica Helms’ transgender flag’s two light blue stripes and two pink stripes represent boys and girls, respectively, while the white stripe in the center of course represents those in the process of transitioning, feel themselves to be genderless, or are intersexed. Can you guess what 2010’s Pansexual Pride flag’s three horizontal stripes stand for? The pink represents the female-identified, the blue the male-identified, and the yellow nonbinary attraction — that, I surmise, experienced by those who’ll fuck anything with a pulse. The chevron pattern Daniel Quasar added to the original 6-stripe rainbow represents marginalized people of color, trans individuals, and those living with, or dead from, HIV/AIDS.
Valentino Vecchietti of Intersex Equality Rights UK then added to the Quasar chevron a yellow triangle and purple circle in homage to the 2013 intersex flag designed by the Australian Morgan Carpenter, with the intention of the intersexed no longer feeling left out.
(Using a circle, stripped of its up-facing arrow for male and plus-sign for women, as a symbol of intersexedness, presented a major challenge, as it was sure to remind many of the Coen Bros’ glorious Hudsucker Proxy, in which we see the Hula Hoop being conceived.)
Over-elaboration, thy name is the Vecchetti flag! The black-on-brown edge of the chevron is the playground bully who inserts himself into game already started and dares any of the existing players to make him leave. Fucking awful.
Whatever happened to Keep it simple, stupid? The Vecchetti monstrosity reminds me, unhappily, of the Coca-Cola logo, the most beautiful in the history of American advertising. No one can convince me that multiple attempts to modernize it haven’t been disastrous. And if you prefer the sterile, soulless current version of the Pepsi logo to the 1951-1962 bottlecap version, you may feel free to remove me from your Xmas card list.
But back to making even the tiniest erotic minority feel included. I have taken time out from writing my acceptance speech for the 2024 Pulitzer Prize for Sarcasm to design a flag that acknowledges all previously acknowledged, but also those in the process of trying to quit smoking, S&M enthusiasts whose excitement increases when they’re ball-gagged, those who disdain fucking in automobiles, those who find clergymen irresistible, those with gambling addictions, cop uniform fetishists, the differently abled, those whose favorite form of foreplay is a game of checkers, wetsuit fetishists and scuba enthusiasts, and sapiosexuals. I would enjoy hearing your impressions.
IS THERE ROOM FOR ROE
a squelchy pair of caviar calves bedecked in cartier do me quite well mm yes slurp slurp slurp
my spectrum embraces your spectrum and yet im still mercilessly judged for how i makeout. tell me does your flipper fondle the second or third gill mid stroke?
i gluggled, ty xx
Well-written, good sir!