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Old Guard - New Guard
By Gayle Rubin
This article is excerpted from a speech given by Gayle Rubin at
the graduation ceremony for the Journeyman II Academy on October
4, 1997
I have problems with the way in which the distinction between
"Old Guard" and "New Guard" is sometimes
deployed. While there are many differences between leather/SM
as it was practiced in the 1950s and as it is practiced today,
the shorthand terms can exaggerate and oversimplify our past
and our present.
Most of the alleged differences popularly thought to
differentiate "Old Guard" and "New Guard"
-- formality versus informality, strict etiquette versus a more
casual style of social interaction, deliberate training versus
less organized acquisition of skills and knowledge -- are more
a matter of degree than absolute distinctions.
In fact, if one looks at "Old Guard" leather and SM
communities from the late 1940s through the early 1960s, one
can see that both tendencies were already present. Louis
Weingarden, who opened one of the first leather art galleries
at his Stompers Boot Store in New York City 20 years ago,
identified two stylistic poles of traditional gay male leather.
One was the military, with its strict formality, hierarchy,
order, and discipline. The other was the world of bikers,
associated with the celebration of disorder, rebelliousness,
and individualism. Both tendencies were important to leather
imagery and SM practice.
In the 1950s there were those who eroticized and engaged in
very formal interactions based on strict codes of courtesy
in the military model, and others who preferred the look of
dirty bikers and a more orgiastic kind of buddy sexuality.
Of course, there were spit and polish bikers too, and others
who looked like greasy bikers but preferred formal SM sex.
Similarly, while many people in those days underwent formal
training and apprenticeships, others entered leather communities
via the bars, social clubs or parties, and absorbed their
socialization in a more haphazard fashion.
Today, while the leather/SM community's dominant styles of
public interaction have changed, all of the "Old Guard"
practices and preferences are still with us. Even now, there are
those for whom leather and SM are formal affairs with strict codes
and etiquette, and those who seek and find training through
apprenticeship types of relationships. At the same time, there
are others for whom leather means freedom from certain conventions
and a way to chart an individual path. Across the different eras,
many have found freedom in formality, individualism through observance
of custom, and a sublime order in things non-leatherfolk might consider
completely chaotic.
There have certainly been many changes in leather and SM social
life since the late 1940s, but these are more complicated than
the simple distinction between "Old Guard" and "New
Guard" can express. Many people today regard just about
everything before the 1980s as "Old Guard", but by
then, leather/SM had already undergone several social revolutions
and "Old Guard" had already had several "New Guards."
In the mid-1960s, classic leather styles began to give way to a
kind of "hippie leather". People grew their hair, took
psychedelic drugs, became less invested in 1950s formality and
created new subgroups organized around different sexual styles,
for example fist fucking. At one point, dope smoking leather guys
and fist fuckers were in effect a kind of "New Guard,"
although that terminology was not yet commonly used.
By the mid-1970s, there were several distinct leather styles and
cultures, although individuals could move among them. After
Stonewall, urban gay male populations grew, and by the late
1970s leather had become a kind of uniform for urban gay men
-- most of whom would never experience the business end of a
whip. This "clone" look included short haircuts,
moustaches, tight 501 jeans, boots, leather jackets, and keys
dangling from belts. The late 1970s are often seen as a kind of
"golden age" of SM in San Francisco, but the large
scale adoption of leather styles by non-leathermen diluted the
signals and frustrated the hard core leather population. This
situation led to the founding of the 15 Association in 1980;
the 15 intended to create a more reliable SM environment, in
which people did not wear hankies or keys as fashion accessories.
From a larger perspective, it is clear that many of the
differences between "Old Guard" and "New
Guard" are the differences between life in the US
in the 1950s and life in the 1990s. These differences
are common to many groups, not just leather/SM. For
example, among surfers one hears laments about the loss
of "serious" surfing as the activity has become
popularized, styles have become commercialized, and communities
have becomes more open.
Much of what is described when people talk about changes in
the leather community comes down to more people, more money,
and more commercialization. Leather public social spaces are
less cozy. Communities are now bigger and it's hard to know
everyone. People often make judgments about others -- and
about what is important -- based on what they see at a
distance on a stage, not what they experience on a daily
basis or within the intimacy of a dungeon.
In earlier days, people still had to take risks to be
involved in leather/SM, and there wasn't much to be
gained apart from the experience itself. Today, some
people seem to care more about money and glory and
their high profile than they do about the quality of
their interactions
I began to notice some of these shifts in the mid-1980s,
when the energy at public play parties seemed to change
for the worse. Before then, many of the parties had been
informal rituals of solidarity, pleasure, celebration, and
connection. People cared most about having a good time. Even
in casual or recreational play, the focus seemed to be on
the quality of the connection between the players themselves
and on building and sharing an energy that whole rooms could
get high on together. At some time in the mid-1980s, it seems
that many people began to care more about what the audience
saw than what their partners experienced. Leather had become
trendy and popular rather than despised and stigmatized. Others
seemed to merely go through the motions -- SM too often became
a mechanical exercise rather than an art form or a form of
intimate communication. I'm not saying that there is no great
public play today, but I often see a community that lacks some
of its former style, grace, and values.
Apart from increases in numbers, popularization, and
commercialization, the gay leather community has had to
deal with one unique factor that cannot be underestimated:
the escalated rate of early mortality due to AIDS. The HIV/AIDS
epidemic has damaged leather communities and social life in
incalculable ways. Communities have experienced the loss, in
a short period of time, of many of the men (and a few women)
who made major contributions to creating and sustaining public
leather life.
Among these were Cynthia Slater, who did so much to build bridges
between the genders and orientations; Mark Joplin whose spirit and
soundtrack helped shape the great parties of yesteryear; Steve and
Fred who made the Catacombs such a fabulous club; Kurt Woodhil whose
brilliant dungeon design made the Hothouse and later the 15 Cedar
Alley space so memorable; artists like Chuck Arnett, A. Jay, Cirby,
Dirk Dykstra, and Robert Pruzan who decorated so many walls and lives;
playwrights like Robert Chesley; producers and gallery owners like
Peter Hartmann, Robert Opel, and Claude DuVall; doctors like Dick
Hamilton who treated perverts and fist fuckers who couldn't take
their injuries elsewhere; therapists like David Lourea who tended
the same population for a different set of ills; club presidents
and owners such as Louis Gaspar, Hal Slate, Jack Green, and Steve
Maidhof; writers like Geoff mains and John Preston; and hundreds
of others.
The collective absence of so many leather forebears is, I think,
one of the main reasons why the social changes of the last decade
seem to have produced so much more of a chasm than did previous
ones. These people not only built and refined our institutions,
but they also met and talked and played with innumerable others,
all the while transmitting community values to newcomers. Their
loss has damaged the social fabric of the leather community and
has created huge gaps in the transmission of leather culture. Some
of this culture has been irretrievably lost, and leather society
has had to reinvent important pieces of itself as a result.
Although much has been lost as leather/SM has evolved, new
developments have brought positive changes as well as problems.
I'm not proposing that we could or should go back to the 1950s.
We should neither romanticize the past nor fail to value it.
Today, there are many ways to acquire leather attitudes and
leather knowledge, including open classes, books, structured
programs such as the Journeyman II Academy, as well as more
traditional apprentice relationships.
We have only begun to systematically think about leather history.
As more archival and historical material becomes available for
study, the schema outlined here will undoubtedly be modified.
But I suspect that as we learn more, the simple opposition of
"Old Guard" and "New Guard" will be even
more radically dislodged by increasingly nuanced and detailed
accounts of different leather practices and populations. The
early 1990s eruption of concern over "Old Guard" and
"New Guard" will itself become a part of that history.
Gayle
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