You know what I find sad? Since all 6 seasons of Glee took place during the school year we have no idea what Kurt Hummel’s summer clothes look like. He’d have to lose some of the layers right? And if he found a way to wear shorts even during the fall he surely wore them during the bright sunny days of summer. There is an entire Kurt Hummel wardrobe that we’ve never seen, and this saddens me.
I’ve decided I’ve thought about this way too long, but oh well. Here are some examples of what I think Kurt wears on those hot days of summer when Blaine can’t wait to take his clothes off of him.
Seems legit. Lol
Yes but where is the bondage inspired wear. Where are the suspendered shorts made of leather straps? Where are the sheer items? There has to be at least one mesh piece, right?
Touché, you are right. Though I stand by my earlier pick as things Kurt would wear in the summer there is another aspect to it. So here is Kurt’s grittier summer looks, aka the clothing Blaine really really wants to take off him. PS these were harder to find because you know Kurt makes a lot of his own stuff.
I find this very spot on. I can actually picture him in these clothes, especially the top left with the brown shorts and light brown shirt. Definitely something he would wear. I congratulate you😂
Nothing ages more quickly or brutally than a piece of entertainment that was revolutionary for its moment. So it’s easy to look back at the debut of Glee and wonder what the big deal was. After all, it certainly wasn’t the first TV show to depict gay characters. But Glee was the first to put a gay kid front and center and to eschew patronizing “Look, he’s just like us!” cultural tourism. The tart-tongued Kurt Hummel, played by actor Chris Colfer (who astonishingly for TV was actually a teenager), was femme, high-voiced, fashion-obsessed, lonely, special. He wasn’t tokenistic or neutered—Kurt got to have a coming-out, a boyfriend, a sex life. He didn’t have to be “just like us”; he only had to be himself.
At its apex, the series was not on the fringes of pop culture but at its center, airing after the Super Bowl and turning Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” into a same-sex I-think-you’re-hot song that reached Billboard’s top ten. At least as significantly, Glee forced its largely non-gay, non-kid audience to confront the existence and the struggles of queer children in a sustained way. In that, the show accomplished something television can do better than almost any other medium—it normalized a conversation. The year after the show’s premiere, Dan Savage launched his deeply affecting and deeply effective “It Gets Better” video project. Savage understood that if one role of entertainment is to kick down a barrier, the job of activism is to make sure it never gets rebuilt.
Now a generation of queer kids who saw themselves in Glee (not to mention a generation of queer kids who didn’t) is in college arguing about gender fluidity and intersectionality. And in ten years, some of them will run for local, state, and national office. For a show that began with a bunch of high-schoolers singing “Don’t Stop Believin’,” that’s not a bad legacy.
What do you think it’s like to fly for the first time? I mean, here you are up in this nest, which is the only home you’ve ever known, and even though your DNA and millions of years of evolution are telling you that if you jump, you won’t hit the ground like a stone, you can never really know.
fivepercent 