Burnt Orange Report

Queer Eye for the DMN Guy

By Byron LaMasters

Well, the Dallas Morning News has responded in an interesting way to Steve Blow's column bashing Queer Eye for the Straight Guy:

And this is one straight guy who wouldn't let those Queer Eye guys anywhere near him. I could use their help. I just couldn't stand all their yapping.

So what does the Dallas Morning News do after the aforementioned column by the normally pro-gay Steve Blow? They decide to do their own version of Queer Eye... and it's a good thing. This guy needed some help:

There I was, sitting at my desk, when the fashionistas of The Dallas Morning News made me an offer:

"We want you to be the straight guy in our version of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy."

Whoa! Not the sort of assignment one usually gets. My first reaction was apprehension bordering on "NOOOOOOO!" So I decided to ask friends and co-workers what they would do, were the same invitation hurled their way.

The style-scrambled straight guy: Dallas Morning News reporter Michael Granberry in his cluttered cubicle the morning of his "make better."

"Are you nuts?" roared The Doog, my buddy in Anchorage.

"Geez, Louise," muttered T.K. in Houston. "You're not tryin' to be one of them metrosexuals, are ya?"

But colleague Teresa Gubbins put it all in perspective. "God forbid that you of all people should learn something about style!" she said, her metallic blue hair shaking in indignation.

Well, Teresa was right. What would I, a 51-year-old Plano father of four boys – who loves watching Cowboys football from a well-worn couch, and whose clothing of choice is $19 Costco pants – have to lose?

After all, isn't that the reason Queer Eye for the Straight Guy is a runaway hit, splitting time between the Bravo cable network, where it's the most-watched show in the channel's history, and an even wider audience on NBC? Gay guys really do have a lot to teach straight guys about style.

Aside from that, the fashionistas' offer was flattering. I was picked in part, they said, for having recently lost 80 pounds, following the wisdom of my physician, Sarah Payberah, who for my money is the best doctor in America.

Ready for his close-up: The new and improved Michael Granberry in his new and improved cubicle.

A voice inside me kept urging: Maybe it's time for a whole new look . (Besides, Queer Eye for the Fat Guy probably wouldn't work.)

So there I was, about to spend an entire day with five members of Dallas' gay community, who groove on putting the "S" in style, whether it's hair or threads or candle-lit romantic dinners or how really cool one's workspace can be.

For a day at least, I had to forget the couch, the Cowboys, even Costco. I was asked to embrace a whole new glossary, taking on such concepts as "product" and "exfoliate" and "self-tanning."

Our initial meeting offered a glimpse of the day to come.

"When this is all over, guys," I said, "I think it's only fair to turn the tables and spend a day Bubbafying you."

"Yeah, right," said David Nelson, chosen to jazz up my cubicle at work. "We've already done that. They call it high school!!!"

The day began with John Clutts driving me to Orange, a trendy salon in Deep Ellum. I rode shotgun in his BMW.

"Where the heck is the CD player?" I asked.

"In here," he said, flipping open a door that gave way to the full-bodied voice of Christine Andreas. I haven't heard acoustics like that since my wife dragged me to the Meyerson. But sorry, John, not exactly my kind of music.

"Got anything by the Eagles?" I asked.

"Sure," he said derisively. "ON VINYL!!!"

Walking into Orange felt like being in a gay version of UT heaven. Orange was everywhere, even on the bottles of "product" they begged me to take home. John introduced me to L.B. Rosser, a stylist for the Kim Dawson Agency, who introduced me to Todd Allen, the owner of Orange and The One Who Would Cut My Hair.

Todd looked at me curiously and asked, "Where do you get your hair cut?"

"Mesquite!" I replied, prompting Todd and L.B. to stare at each other and then nod sympathetically, as if I had blurted out, "Well, actually, I've only been homeless for five years."

Soon, he was cutting and shaping my "too round" coif, vowing "not to make you look like Marlene Dietrich. But, then, you won't look like Ward Cleaver anymore, either."

When Todd got done, I had to admit I really dug the new look, even though a co-worker said I looked "like the David Bowie of Plano."

"Oh, what the hell," I said. "Have you checked out Bill Parcells and that Billy Idol blondness he's been wearing? If it's all right for him, it's all right for me."

Next, we were on to the West Village, where we paid a visit to Regimens owner Tom Granese. Regimens is one of those too-hip shops where men can get even more "product," this time for the face. Here, we entered into a whole new adventure, in the land of Exfoliate.

"So what kind of shaving cream do you use?" Tom asked.

"Gillette Foamy!" I said, to which Tom responded with a wince. And that was subtle compared to L.B.'s reaction.

"I am shocked and appalled!" said the stylist, giving me the kind of look judges reserve for three-time offenders.

Face it, Tom said, there is a better way, and handed me a bottle of "men-u," as if allowing me to cradle the Holy Grail. "It's an ultraconcentrated shave cream," he said, almost reverently. "Just a couple of pumps, and then lather it on."

What I discovered is that a wee bit of men-u goes a long way, meaning that if my 10-year-old and 7-year-old ever find it, my whole dang house could float away.

But Tom wasn't done. He trotted out Maxwell's Apothecary To Tone, Jack Black Double-Duty Face Moisturizer, Baxter of California Under-Eye Complex, and L.B.'s favorite, a wicked little bottle of "California North Titanium Self-Tanner... for the whole face and body."

"Hey, guys, I've got one question," I said. "Where do you find the time for all this?"

"We make the time," L.B. said. "Because we care."

Do I care enough to keep using this stuff? Hard to say. They gave me so many bottles, it's hard to keep 'em all straight. To devote that much time to my face, I'd have to give up watching SportsCenter in the morning.

OK, guys, one other question: "How can I incorporate what I'm learning here with one of my Cowboys-watching parties, you know, when the buddies come over?"

L.B. was the first to speak up.

"How about a hot-wing-and self-tanning party!"

Natalie Caudill / DMN
Goodbye to the bowl: Michael gets a haircut from Orange salon owner Todd Allen while grooming expert L.B. Rosser touts the merits of "product."

If it's true that clothes make the man, I needed major reconstruction, something on the order of an urban renewal project. In the past seven months, my waistline has shrunk 12 inches, my coat size 10, my neck almost 4. I've been stalking the racks at Costco, hoping for the cheapest "in-between" look I could find before reaching my final weight-loss goal of an even 100 pounds.

But Josh Goldfarb had other ideas. An undergraduate at Southern Methodist University and young enough to be my son, he took me to Banana Republic in the West Village, where, after an hour of trying on what seemed like half the store, I emerged with a sleek gray sweater, navy-blue pin-stripe pants, a brown suede jacket a young Marlon Brando might have worn and black boots that looked like hand-me-downs from the early Beatles.

Kudos to Josh. Several months ago, my walrusy clothes made me look like Andy Rooney on a good day, Omar the Tentmaker on a bad one.

For a while at least, I even got to feel like Brando.

Natalie Caudill / DMN
Chef Todd Erickson shows Michael how to put the finishing touches on a fall salad at Gourmet a go-go!

We moved on to a really cool store on McKinney Avenue called Design Within Reach, where "studio proprietor" Matt Wilkerson showed me a Mirra chair by Herman Miller. (Back at the office, David Nelson was redesigning my cubicle with a band of Milleresque items that managed to impress even my prone-to-heckle co-workers.)

Design Within Reach is full of chairs and clocks and lamps that could change even Dilbert's image. Before getting to see what the amazing Mr. Nelson had done with its product, we lunched at Paris Vendome, which we followed with a trip to Gourmet a go-go!, where we met executive chef Todd Erickson. Todd, who is one mean cook, had "designed" the romantic meal I would bring home to Nancy, my wife. Hardly your ordinary takeout, it was fat years removed from the Whataburger "Double Double with cheese" I used to cart home on a nightly basis.

Todd had whomped up an awesome salad of mixed greens, feta, toasted hazelnuts and plum vinaigrette; steak and parsnips and asparagus; and a killer dessert of mission figs, raspberries and vanilla custard.

As they used to say about Nolan Ryan's fastball, "This guy can bring it."

Josh Goldfarb helps Michael into a Banana Republic suede jacket, while John Clutts offers encouragement.

Back at the office, my cubicle had become a swooned-over, eye-popping coolicle. It had a clean, unfettered look that made one want to sit and create something immediately. So different from my workspace at home, which often looks like downtown Mosul.

Mr. Nelson had replaced my clunky PC with a really cool Apple Power Mac G5 and converted my ragtag collection of refrigerator magnets into an op-art parade. He even brought in a real blue fish that swam in a bowl on the corner of the desk.

All in all, what a day. And then, of course, time to go home. With the kids in bed, my wife and I rolled out the meal from Todd, lit the candles and put on the music. John had suggested a compromise between her choice of tunes (Mandy Patinkin) and mine (Jackson "Running on Empty" Browne). And what do you know? There really is a middle ground.

So we listened instead to Norah Jones, whose "Come Away With Me" put me to sleep. I was, after all, even more fatigued than that little blue fish.

As I said to John at the end of the day, "I'm glad I'm not gay... 'cause, hey, dude, this is damn hard work."

And then his BMW roared into the sunset, as the voice of Christine Andreas filled the night air with the promise of improvement.

Posted by Byron LaMasters at November 13, 2003 10:53 PM | TrackBack