Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

I discovered something about myself this weekend, something I didn't particularly want to know. Something, you might say, faintly disturbing.

While driving somewhere on Saturday, The Gryphon and I got into a conversation about movie and television stars, in particular, those I'd had a crush on over the years.

I tried to think back to the first one, and after a time, I came up with Christopher Reeves in Superman.

"He was so dreamy," I said.

"Must have been the tights," The Gryphon teased.

"No, no, no. It wasn't that at all," I said. "I mean, I didn't even notice such things back then. I was 8, for heaven's sakes."

After some more thinking I came up with another early celebrity crush: Mikhail Baryshnikov in White Nights. And then, of course, David Bowie in Labyrinth.

"You know what those movies have in common?" The Gryphon asked. "Tights."

"No, it wasn't Bowie's tights. It was his acting," I insisted, carefully failing to mention how much fun my friends and I had once had watching Labyrinth while making creative use of the pause button.

On further reflection, I had to admit that Baryshnikov was the impetus for remaining in ballet much longer than I otherwise might have, until I saw myself on videotape during a dance recital and realized I had little hope of ever being one of his dance partners.

And I did have to admit that I used to like to watch the Batman TV series, starring Adam West, who was cute once he put his mask on, I thought.

Much later, I developed a liking for John Malkovich in Dangerous Liaisons. (My apologies for failing to find a good picture of Malkovich in tights. These pics will have to do.)

And there was that three-hour radio show I did on Robin Hood during college.

The Gryphon said nothing. By this point he didn't need to.

"But it wasn't the tights," I said. "Baryshnikov is a great dancer, and Bowie is a great singer, and Malkovich is a great actor."

In an effort to prove that I was less pervy than I was beginning to appear, I racked my brain for another early movie crush. "I know. Matthew Broderick," I said. "He never appeared in tights."

"What about Ladyhawke?"

"Oh, right. Forgot about that one. I know. Michael J. Fox in Teen Wolf."

"Tight jeans and fur," The Gryphon said with a smirk.

"Now you're stretching it."

Ironically, I did, however, find some pictures on the Internet of Michael J. Fox as Superman in an episode of Spin City.

"OK, Johnny Depp," I said.

"Pirates of the Caribbean."

OK, I had to admit he had a point.

I also had to admit to liking Orlando Bloom as Legolas in The Lord of the Rings. It must be true; I was a hopeless men in tights fancier.

I'm not certain which is worse: having a silly fetish or being made aware of it after 20 years of ignorant bliss. I suppose there are far worse things than liking men in tights. For example, any fetish that involves sterile gloves and forceps. Or, say, a vat of strawberry pudding and a life preserver.

Still, it's a rather silly thing to admit to oneself.

But even if this is true, I'm certainly not the only woman out there with this embarrassing predilection. That's why I'm founding a new group, LEGS (Lovers of Elegant Guys in Stockings). If you're interested in joining this group, e-mail me. If there's enough interest, I'll start a Yahoo discussion group.

If you're not certain if you qualify, here's a simple checklist:

• Do you like — I mean really like — Renaissance faires?
  
  
• Is your favorite playwright Shakespeare?
  
  
• Do you like to go to Old City Philadelphia in the summer and scope out the male 18th Century re-enactors?
  
  
• Do you believe one of the highest compliments you can give a man is "nice legs"?
  
  
• Do you prefer swashbucklers to action heroes?
  
  
• Did you actually pay to see The Three Musketeers (1993) in the movie theater?
  
  
• Do you think fencers are sexier than track stars?
  
  
• Do you think Tobey Maguire is sexier in his Spider-Man costume than out of it?

If you answered "yes" to three or more of the above questions, you just might be an admirer of men in tights. Don't despair; you can still find a good, healthy relationship. May I suggest joining your local chapter of the Society for Creative Anachronisms, and attending a Renaissance Faire forthwith? Wearing a bodice is highly recommended, for it's a little known fact that men in tights tend to prefer women in bodices.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to watch the Olympics. Men's gymnastics is on.

Copyright 2004 by Alyce Wilson

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