Pride season is here! A bi-coastal girl, I’m most familiar with the GLBTQ (gay, lesbian, bisexual, trans, queer) Pride festivals in San Francisco and in our quaint little town of Northampton. San Francisco Pride is a massive affair of rainbows, ass-less chaps and (unfortunately) my only excuse to publicly don pasties. What I like about Northampton Pride is that it’s basically like any other day in Northampton, with its high concentration of children and puppies from both straight and GLBTQ families roaming downtown. Except on Pride, we get Fried Dough. You can tell that Northampton Pride is a festival put on by the community that lives here. In a good way.
While San Francisco’s and Northampton’s Prides are very different, the comforting commonality is the Pride-centric meat-marketry—the smoldering-eyed sexual sizing up that occurs between you and everyone you shuffle past in the rainbow-clad crowd, no matter what Pride you’re at. Sure, San Francisco’s cruising is a little more aggressive and expertly executed, but the attempts made by Northampton strangers to eat my (wildly attractive) wife with their eyes at this year’s Pride remind me that this isn’t just a block party—we’re at Pride! The thing about San Francisco, however, is that their meat-market communication styles are a bit different, often powered by the wordless art of “bandanna code” or “flagging,” the practice of wearing a bandanna in the left or right back pocket of your pants in order to communicate the sexual act you’re looking for and whether or not you prefer to be the top/active partner or bottom/passive partner in said act.
It’s debated if flagging originated in post-Gold Rush San Francisco or 1970’s New York City but, either way, the code was invented by gay men to facilitate sexual communication and pick-ups in packed, noisy bars. When I first moved to San Francisco in 2008, bandanna flagging had come back around as the latest trend in GLBTQ subcultures, with bandanas either worn in pockets or around the neck cowboy-style. Recently, the extreme trendiness of flagging has fizzled, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t catching a lot of hanky-panky signals at this year’s Northampton’s Pride. The question is—does that Smithie L.U.G. (Lesbian-Until-Graduation) strutting around the Thornes parking lot think that her yellow bandanna is pretty and seasonally appropriate? Or does she really want me to pee on her?
Let’s find out. First, get your directions down: left pocket/knot on the left side of your neck means you’re the top/active/do-er in the sexual act you’re flagging for; while right pocket/knot to the right means you’re the bottom/passive/get-doner. For example, a grey bandanna indicates that you’re into bondage. So, if you’ve got a grey bandanna in your left pocket, you’ll be doing the tying up; and if it’s in your right pocket, you’ll be getting roped.
Study that Pride rainbow of colors. Black equals heavy S&M; dark blue says “anal sex”; light blue is for oral sex; aforementioned yellow signals a taste for watersports (read urination fetish). Make sure to get your hues just right, or you may be surprised when the bandannas come off in the bedroom. While primary color red stands for fisting, a dark maroon means you like blood-play; a light pink stands for strap-on fun; fuschia, like a worn-out butt cheek, screams spanker (left) or spankee (right); white states an interest in safer-sex; fun-loving orange means you’re down for whatever, whenever; and gold means that you’re two people looking for a threesome (left) or an eager third-wheel looking for a couple (right).
Then, there’s the litany of creative prints which, at first glance, may seem like a lucky thrift-store find but actually speak for specific sexual niches when flagged. A white hanky with multi-color dots means you’re either hosting an orgy (left) or looking for an invite (right); preppy argyle means you’re a geek or geek-seeker; and houndstooth stands for biting.
Yes, bandanna code is a great way to tell a potential sexual partner what you want in the sack without that pesky communication I’m always recommending, but it’s also a good way to get peed on when you least expect it. Something to think about for next year.
