While today's young San Francisco gay gent prefers to (pretend to) skateboard, spend the night frolicking at Bender's, and eschew the art of proper hygiene, there was a day when the effete dandy reigned supreme among the homo sect. (No, Rufus Wainwright doesn't count. Ever.) And those dandies, if only the days of yore had allowed it, would have put on their Sunday best and busted it up on the ballroom floor. Lots of swirling, lots of twirling: the way God programmed gay men.
