I've got a deep, dark confession to make, Banditas and friends! In the early '80s, I had a HUGE crush on Adam Ant whose picture graces the top of this blog. When he sang Ant Music, I was in ant heaven. Or perhaps I should say the ANT-eroom to heaven! But the weird thing is I only liked AA when he wore make-up and his rather naff highwayman gear. When he looked like a normal guy, I wasn't interested. Why?
I'm a huge fan of the Scarlet Pimpernel but find him much more attractive when he's lily-livered Sir Percy Blakeney. I much prefer him making up groan-worthy verse about seeking those Frenchies everywhere than saving people from the guillotine!
I could go on. Captain Jack Sparrow. That man can wear eyeliner! David Bowie in the 1970s. ALL Restoration comedy which I developed a real fondness for when I did English lit at uni. Frances Crawford from Dorothy Dunnett's Lymond Chronicles. Camp as they come but SOOOOO dashing and gorgeous. Lord Peter Wimsey from Dorothy L. Sayers' classic mysteries.
I have a fairly loose theory that the reason I find these men attractive has something to do with their ability with the English language. Well, Adam Ant aside! But all of these dudes can talk their way out of a corner better than most. Do these particular examples float my boat because they might be camp, but they're dashing as well?
So a couple of questions. Am I alone in my attraction to these theatrical but extremely gorgeous manifestations of masculinity? Do you have any camp heroes of your own - and no, Caren, we're not talking about the scouting movement! What is the eternal lure of the camp?
