Any commentary we could offer on this one would be damn near superfluous. So we’re gonna shut up and go with the quotes. Ladies and gentlemen, we give you excerpts from the New York Times skating around Johnny Weir‘s sexuality:
One stands 6 feet 2 inches, wears panther black and dates ESPN’s Hottest Female Athlete. The other weighs an avian 125 pounds, favors sequined swan outfits and coyly brushes off patter about his sexuality.
The other adores skating’s operatic performances, is asked if his eyelashes are real and announces that they are. One is accused of being robotic and rehearsed. The other is the one doing the accusing saying “I just don’t like him,” before buttoning his fur coat and grabbing his Louis Vuitton bag.
In the normally placid enclave of figure skating, supporting either Evan Lysacek the Athlete or Johnny Weir the Artist has become a virtual referendum on matters from skating style and personal style to sexuality itself.
“If he doesn’t want to skate to music that’s pretty and wear a pretty costume, then go rollerblade or skateboard or do one of those extreme sports,” Weir said of Lysacek.
For someone so protective of skating’s traditional roots he considers himself a performer, not a competitor Weir takes great delight in flaunting his personal eccentricities. He owns at least 10 fur coats, did a magazine fashion shoot wearing six-inch heels, and calls Russia “my motherland” despite being from Pennsylvania Amish country. He has called himself “princessy,” and once described a costume as “Care Bears on acid.”
Weir’s outfits often sparkle like disco balls; in his short program he pretends to be a seagull. His total package has not only led to assumptions that he is gay something not as taboo in figure skating as in other sports but a controversy over his not being the right type of gay.
“There are some things I keep sacred,” Weir said. “My middle name. Who I sleep with. And what kind of hand moisturizer I use.”
A search for “Johnny Weir” and gay bought up 53,900 Google hits.