While gays used hanky codes in the past to recognize each other, there are now numerous dating apps to find a partner for various needs. You get to know each other nowhere better than in real life, but the prevailing pandemic is forcing us to meet even more digitally.
In conversations I often notice that many are not familiar with hanky codes. Some justify their ignorance with the fact that online dating apps already provide information about what the other person is into. In the 1970s, long before Gayromeo, Recon, Grindr and Co., the Hanky (short for handkerchief) Code was a popular way for gay men to show others which fetishes and position they prefer sexually. The colored handkerchiefs in the back pocket spread rapidly in Europe and the USA, especially in the gay and BDSM scene. Tom of Finland also drew his characters with hankies and this sex indicator became increasingly popular. However, since then our community has changed, homosexuals have become far more self-confident and no longer need to hide. In addition, the opportunities to find a partner have increased considerably.
I rediscovered the hanky code during my visits to the USA, because there the signaling handkerchiefs are still worn more often than in Europe. Perhaps there may be a hint of vintage in hanky codes today, but I still like to wear them as a strong symbol of our leather scene. White with colorful dots, or purple and white checkered, made of satin or mosquito net, magenta or fuchsia? The variety of coding has become more during time and the danger of confusing the colors more frequently, which has driven this way of recognizing each other almost ad absurdum. It may be excused that one or the other no longer knows about hankies. In fact, it is more likely that the emergence of social apps has made hanky codes redundant and more of a fashionable conversation starter rather than a way to solicit sex.
In today’s digital world we use apps, click on our sexual preferences and write down in detail what we are looking for. Immediately suitable partners can be filtered online displayed according to how far away they are right now. The physical appearance is used as a filter in a completely exaggerated way. Quite a few of us have not just one of these apps, but several installed on our smartphones and, as needed, wipe our way through the digital men world, filter for fast adventures, special preferences or love for life and click through the vast offers that the algorithm of love provides. This seems much easier than staring at the back pocket of any interesting man and trying to remember what the color exactly means when worn on which side. The attraction of discovery gets lost quickly when all sexual preferences are displayed online.
I have always invited many of the Graz and Vienna Recon users to my “Fetish in the City” parties. The feedback was quite varied. One of them shied at the fact he didn’t know anyone. Another didn’t want to come because he was skeptical and thought “those parties are better in Vienna”. And many did not answer at all, let alone dared to step out of their wiping comfort zone into the real world. The regional fetish community, which obviously does exist in our country and which can be found for example during Folsom in Berlin, is largely hiding behind digital devices and prefers to date online instead of seeking personal contact and talking to like-minded people. I certainly don’t want to run down online dating apps. Even though statistically I am not a digital native, I arranged my first fetish dates via worldleathermen.com (now Recon) and I also found the man for life online.
The world wide web is not a fad, it has become part of our life. We must deal with the net and each of us has created his/her personal brand, a kind of personal trademark, in dating apps and/or social networks. This identity is not just the image we have of ourselves, but how we are perceived by others. Much of what we are currently being offered on social media needs to be critically questioned and we have to learn to endure uncertainties and contradictions. Many have perfected it, with a personal brand far from authenticity, to shoot their complex-laden poison arrows online. Often only in order to defuse or even delete postings a short time later. Isn’t it much better to discuss arguments in private than to have the public participate in the battle for the ego?
If there is widespread interest at all, because Facebook, Insta and Co. often resembles a monologue in a room full of people. We currently increasingly experience how digital loneliness is spreading. It remains to be seen whether and how the digital encounters will continue in the “new normal” after Corona. At the moment, we all certainly miss personal interaction, human encounters and contacts. Who knows, maybe our hankies will reappear from our drawers when we log out and are back in the real world.