It’s Grace Adler’s birthday, the curly-haired hag from American sitcom Will & Grace, and we propose to declare April 26 International Fag Hag Day!
Google defines a fag hag as “a heterosexual woman who spends much of her time with homosexual men”. The phrase originated in US gay male culture and was historically an insult, but as it entered pop culture, references to the term have been both critiqued and embraced.
One of the most popular representations of the relationship is the American television series Will & Grace which premiered in 1998 and ran for eight seasons. In January, the show announced a revival ninth season set to release later this year. With it being Grace’s birthday, many a fag hag’s role model, I decided to write about being a hag to my fag, or desi Will & Grace, as we prefer calling each other. Perhaps Maine Pyaar Kiya’s infamous declaration that “Ek ladka aur ladki kabhi dost nahin ho sakte” did not refer to the ‘straight girl, gay boy’ dynamic.
We’ve been friends since meeting in degree college in 2007 but I only assumed the role of fag hag the day he came out to me – in December 2009 over Facebook Messenger. After much hesitation and second-guessing, he finally said: “I’m gay.” A long explanation followed about how he’s attracted to boys and how long he’s known about it. Disappointed by my lack of a dramatic reaction, he continued rambling on about how he hoped it wouldn’t change anything between us.
It didn’t. Our relationship only got better. Unlike friendships with straight men, that more often than not bring along the hazy territory of sexual tension, our friendship was rid of that burden.
Ironically, because of the amount of time we spend together, people, including our respective parents, invariably assume we’re a couple.
In contrast to female friendships, being with my fag was more liberating. At the risk of generalising, I sensed an underlying competition of appearance and wardrobe in the female friendships I found myself in, which was exhausting to keep up with.
With my fag, I could be a hag in rags. As for him, he’s happier away from the straight male company; he’d grown tired of the assertion of hyper-masculinity from and around them. There was none of the drama of stealing each other’s men either, since our choices are as separate as chalk and cheese.
Coming out to me helped him come out to others. Each time he was afraid to reveal his orientation, or was rejected for it, he found comfort in knowing there was one person who knew and accepted him. Another reality our relationship revealed to us was the male gaze.
Looks and glances from men that I had unknowingly taken for granted, stood out for him and made him uncomfortable. I’d joke that it was his protective instincts, but he said he hadn’t realised until then how bad women had it.
We constantly confide in each other, vet significant others, question our weirdness against the world’s, and sometimes make fun of people who suffocate beneath heteronormative standards. Basically just like any other friendship, but better.
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 "Will & Grace")
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