The leatherman – a discontinued model?

I identify as gay leatherman: I like to wear leather from head to toe – the more the better. I feel most comfortable in leather pants, leather shirt and boots – the so-called BLUF style. I like to combine this outfit with bracelets, leather caps, waistcoats or jackets, depending on the occasion and my mood. Since the 1960s, leathermen appear in the image of the queer scene, initially rather hidden and under the guise of motor sports clubs. With the spread of Tom of Finland’s drawings and the first Mr. Leather elections, the leather scene became more visible. At the latest from 1978 with the release of the song Y.M.C.A., everyone knew the typical leatherman that Glenn Hughes embodied as the singer of the Village People. Often people I meet in the streets whistle or sing this song to themselves or loudly towards me…

Recently, however, I asked myself whether I might have fallen out of time and whether the leatherman per se has become obsolete. I planned to attend a big fetish weekend in Vienna and couldn’t find an event for leather guys. There were specific events and meetings for all kinds of other fetish preferences, but leather fetishists were only found under Mixed Fetish. When two of my booked events had to be canceled due to unforeseen circumstances beyond control, I spontaneously decided to return home. There are more and more parties with mixed fetishes or dress code ‘Fetish Gear Welcome’, but you won’t find a gathering of leathermen and a strict dress code (outside of Berlin).

This shouldn’t be whining at a high level. I’m well aware of my standing as a white gay cis man as well as of the accusation of toxic masculinity in the gay leather community. The emergence of leathermen as cool motorcyclists in leather jackets after World War II was built on the insecurities of those men in their time: insecurity, hide-and-seek, and above all a sense of inferiority. Gay men then, and all too often still today, tended to feel inferior to others and therefore idealized hypermasculinity. They did not want to stand out in society and stuck to traditional male ways of thinking and behaving. In addition, there was the fear of rejection because of being different. Hence, they flexed their muscles, dressed in leather, and rode their motorcycles through the streets. The internalized insecurity led them to behave in an exaggeratedly masculine manner, sometimes with pronounced dominant behavior patterns. Tom of Finland drew his men in exactly this way: the tight leather stretched over muscular torsos, the cigarette dangles from their lips, crotches filled to bursting, motorcycles… images that made an impression on people’s heads and evoke associations with the leatherman to this day.

The fear of rejection inevitably led to a longing to belong and to be part of a group. As a member of a motorcycle club or a regular visitor to a leather bar, they felt they were in a safe place and with people they could identify with: the leather community. This community has evolved over time, becoming more inclusive and open to the varying forms of fetishism. The typical motorcycle clubs have become fetish clubs and instead of the Mister Leather elections that were common until a few years ago, often the title Mister Fetish is now awarded. The accusation of toxic masculinity is all too often unjustified. The leather community welcomes members with diverse expressions and provides a safe space for anyone who identifies with fetishism.

I experienced this inclusion at this year’s pride parade in Vienna. In line with the pride slogan “Together we Rise”, four fetish clubs have joined forces and marched the parade along Vienna’s Ringstrasse together. It was noticeable that I was one of the few leathermen in our group. The colorful mixture and above all the great atmosphere and the feeling of togetherness made up for the fact that I obviously belong to a dying species. That’s probably why there was a close-up in the Austrian ORF television coverage and my photo can be found on the internet in the category “Most Unusual Pride Outfits”.

Hand on heart, don’t we have the same motivations today as our predecessors? As homosexuals, don’t we still have a feeling of inferiority, a fear of rejection and a longing for community and belonging? But what is the reason for the recognizable decline in leathermen? Is it because of the critique of hypermasculinity? Or the simple adaptation and easy way of adopting an existing, assimilated identity instead of creating and living out one’s own, honest identity. Is that why many of us no longer dare to enter the queer world that surrounds us the way they really are?

Personally, I like wearing leather, flaunting my masculinity, riding a motorcycle. Does this calm my insecurities? Probably yes. Does that make me toxic and inherently bad? My fetishism and preferences shown in public have nothing to do with toxicity. I don’t harm anyone and don’t feel like having to justify myself for who and how I am. I respect and enjoy our colorful, diverse world, see myself as an authentic part of it and am neither critical of nor disappointed by the community. Nevertheless, I feel more and more pushed to the edge of a drawer and even in our minority as an outsider. Am I really fallen out of time?

My appeal to the leathermen: keep showing yourselves and proudly choose leather gear over cotton or denim shorts and sneakers at a pride parade, even in summer temperatures, just for the sake of adaptation and conformity. Get together outside of the big mainstream events and don’t fear rejection. This is the only way we can continue to belong to the appearance of the queer community and are not a dusty, dying species, but give the model leatherman the chance of a renaissance…