Pride, patriotism and Queer Eye: the nation has changed quite a bit since Queer Eye for the Straight Guy debuted last summer, The Fab 5 talk about their role in the gay rights revolution--and how the show has affected their love lives.

"It's not that he was wearing stuff that was, you know, overtly tragic. It's just, like most guys, he wasn't putting any thought into it. He just wore lumpy, oversize, baggy sweatshirts and stuff. He didn't like shopping; his apartment was. filthy. To hear Ted Allen tell it, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy's latest makeover subject sounds much like the 23 straight guys who came before him in the show's blockbuster first season. Save for one particular detail. "I kept grabbing him by the shoulders," Ted says with a laugh, "and saving, 'Wayne, for the love of God, you're supposed to be gay!'"

That's right--get ready for Queer Eye for the Gay Guy. For one week in May, the cast descended on the life of Wayne, a gay man living in New York City who was stuck in a rut from a breakup and quite keen for Ted, Carson, Jai, Kyan, and Thorn to help him break out of it. "One of our own was in trouble, so we had to come to the rescue," explains Carson.

"It was so tim," beams Kyan. "A lot of the times with straight guys, you have to sort of talk them into it, explain why it's good for them. With Wayne, he was so willing and open and ready and eager. That made it really fun for us."

As the show begins its second full season (new episodes started airing June 1), Queer Eye really has come full circle. Since its July 2003 debut, using an arsenal of "sofa pillows and shaving cream and bootcut jeans" (as Thom puts it), this hour-long makeover show has "living rooms across America--including Middle America and the Bible Belt--laughing along with five people they consider friends who just happen to be gay" (to quote Jai), and the now-famous Fab 5 have done so by simply helping two dozen straight men help themselves.

And that's only in front of the cameras. Who knows how many hetero guys from among Queer Eye's 1.8 million weekly viewers are suddenly rolling their own pasta or springing for salsa lessons?

It's easy to forget, but when Bravo--at the time, a largely overlooked basic-cable channel that had just been acquired by NBC--premiered its entry into the vast universe of reality TV with a show bearing the eyebrow-raising title of Queer Eye for the Straight Gay, "it arrived during what was already the gayest summer on record," as Joan Garry, executive director of the media watchdog group Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation, wryly reminds us.

That "gayest summer" starred, really, on June 7, 2003, with the election by the New Hampshire Episcopal diocese of an openly gay man, the Reverend V. Gene Robinson, as its bishop, a decision that still threatens to split the Episcopal Church USA from many of its Anglican brethren around the world. Then the John Waters-inspired Broadway musical Hairspray twisted its way though the Tony Awards, with an openly gay songwriting team, Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, sharing a smooch on live TV as they accepted their trophy. At the end of the month, the U.S. Supreme Court struck down all remaining same-sex sodomy laws in Lawrence v. Texas, using language so sweeping and forceful that activists on both the Left and the Right suddenly saw the legalization of same-sex marriage as an attainable reality. A scant four days later, Canada's prime minister seemed to affirm that conclusion, announcing the country would make gay marriage--already under way in its province of Ontario--legal nationwide. (So far it's limited to three provinces, but the promise stands.)

Then Queer Eye debuted on July 24 to record-breaking ratings for Bravo (3.34 million viewers at its peak in September, a bonanza for basic cable) and widespread critical acclaim. The first season gave us not only 24 episodes of the show but also a best-selling book, a soundtrack, a music video, endorsement deals, magazine covers, TV talk-show appearances--including the quintet's invasion of The Tonight Show With Jay Leno--and immeasurable cultural impact. After all, who hasn't referred to a fifth-wheel friend as the "Jai" of the clique or talked about "Queer Eyeing" a straight friend? [See related story, page 130.]

In the past 12 months Queer Eye and its seemingly ubiquitous stars have come to represent an extraordinary nexus of countless pop-culture portrayals and landmark social advances gays and lesbians have enjoyed over the past several years. And they have accomplished this without making an overt political "statement." Just as Ellen DeGeneres has reinvigorated her middle-American fan base by simply being Ellen, the Fab 5 don't need to address cultural flash points such as San Francisco's defiant jump-start of same-sex marriages or gays in the military. Simply by being themselves--openly gay men who are commanding, funny, whipsmart, and disarmingly personable-they are shedding light on the subject of gayness for the nation to see. (And what flattering light it is too!) Just knowing them makes it that much more difficult to dismiss gay people as threatening file American way of life. Afar all, their entire mission is to make straight America feel better about itself when it looks in the mirror.

The Fab 5 emphatically state that they never set out to be the poster boys for gay equality. Far from it. To a man, Ted Allen (the food guy), Kyan Douglas (the grooming guy), Thom Filicia (the design guy), Carson Kressley (the fashion guy), and Jai Rodriguez (the culture guy) as well as the show's out creator, David Collins, all insist that Queer Eye does not have any agenda, nor has it ever, beyond entertaining its viewers every Tuesday at 10 P.M.

"I certainly don't wake up thinking that I'm going to be political," Thom says. "The forum that we work in is not a political forum; it's an entertainment forum. I think that we have to make sure that we keep that focus."

"No one talked to us about the political stuff that was going to come out of this," Jai stresses. "No one prepared us for, you know, 'What do you think of gay marriage?'"

Which isn't to say they don't appreciate the impact the show has had. Ted talks about the teenage girl who told him her little brother was "terrified" to tell their conservative parents he was gay, but then "he started watching the show with [Iris] parents and it made it OK for him to tell them." And Carson recalls an old friend asking him for an autograph at a horse show. "I'm like, 'Peg, I've known you for 25 years. That's ridiculous.'" The friend explained that it was for a family friend's son who had just come out.

Collins--who executive-produces Queer Eye with business partner David Metzler for the New York-based Scout Productions--gets choked up when he talks about the many people who tell him things like "Do you know my dad never had called me, my dad and I didn't speak, and now my dad calls me every Wednesday morning to talk about the show with me?"

They "all have stories like that.

So why Queer Eye? What is it about this show that makes it both so popular and so powerful?

"The show is well-received because it's good," offers GLAAD's Garry, who often watches the show with her 14-year-old daughter. "There is this really delicious little irony in that these men are more open and honest and comfortable with who they are than the [straight] men they meet. It's those kinds of refreshing and interesting angles that can make a show very successful and, in the context of what I do for a living, have a really enormous impact."

"The calculus of this is so simple," asserts Ted, who is quick to acknowledge trailblazers like DeGeneres, his hero. "It's not that we've achieved anything heroic at all. We're just five out gay people. It comes back to this again and again and again. That's what it's all about. Being out. Period. I mean, if we have 12-year-old boys coning up to us and thinking we're cool, that means that maybe the effeminate kid sitting next to them in school is not going to get his ass kicked."

Ted may not know just how dead-on he is. It almost goes without saying that Carson, more than anyone on the show, understands the power of the well-timed quip to defuse just about any situation. When rids is pointed out, his oh-so-affable voice abruptly takes on an unexpected edge. "Yes, I'm always the one who's cutting it up," he says, "but I'll tell you, this is very serious subject matter for me. When I was growing up in Allentown, Pa., I was obviously gay, and I got heckled every day of my life. On the school bus people made fun of me and really, yon know, tortured me. The only way I knew how to survive was to make people laugh. If I could make them laugh and I could disarm them that way, I wouldn't get hung in a locker for two hours, OK? So that's a great thing. That's a blessing. That's a gilt. Making it into a positive, making people comfortable, making them laugh, seeing that life is short and we need to enjoy it, is so important. I'm so grateful for that."

As if to prove his point, when asked how the show has changed his life, Carson immediately responds, "Well, the obvious answer is that instead of me writing letters to prison inmates, they write letters to 'me, which is wonderful. Numbet J799QX1, if you're reading this, I'll be there when you get out!"

Of course, the real (and obvious) answer is that they've all had to adjust their lives to the particular pressures and prominence that only television can provide. "It's very demanding," says Ted, a former writer for Esquire magazine, of the show's arduous schedule, which has them shooting 40 episodes in 52 weeks. (Most TV shows do about 26 episodes a year.) "I was used to a very relaxed lifestyle. I have not read a lot of books in the last year." He pauses to laugh before quickly adding, "Please don't ever get the idea that Fin complaining, because who could? It's a time in my life where I just have to work a little harder than I want to. But that's a good problem to have."

They all seem bemused by their newfound thine and only a little disoriented, even if occasionally that fame results in adulation that's a wee bit misdirected. "When we do signings for the book and the soundtrack and stuff, it's like the gay Beatles," Jai reports. He means that quite literally. "It's like, girls don't care. I have a lot a women come to me [and say], 'I know you're gay, but still, I would, you know. One time?'" Doesn't he get that from any men? "Unfortunately, no," Jai sighs. "I'm the only single cast member, I think. Me and Carson. But Carson doesn't seem to have a problem dating."

In fact, the Fab 5's love lives have almost universally improved--in spite of the show. When production first began last year, Ted says he and Barry, his pamper of what was then 10 years, were "separated by 750 miles, him in Chicago, me in New York. It was incredibly hard, and that really magnified the feelings of stress that I had just from the schedule. But now I've got him here [in New York]. This was a decision we made together, to do this [show]. asked him again and again, 'Are we nuts? Do we really want to do this?' And he's like, 'You're crazy. You have to. I mean, you have to.'"

Kyan, meanwhile, practically gushes over his new relationship with a friend he knew before Queer Eye began. His excite-. ment makes sense, considering the match almost didn't happen. "Once I got on the show," Kyan says, "the thought I must be getting laid right and left, that I'm somehow out of his league in some way, which for me is just the most ridiculous thing ever." What has the relationship taught him? "At the end of the day, the most important thing really is being in a loving, committed relationship and having the opportunity to share myself with another human being. I think often, as gay men, we sometimes think that's not meaningful."

Good luck, however, trying to get Thorn to talk about his new boyfriend. "We have a very equal relationship" is about all he'll reveal that, and the guy hadn't seen Queer Eye when they first met. "I memo, we've only been dating for three months," he says with a nervous chuckle. "If it were a year, I would give you a lot more information."

(Speaking of sharing information, Jai wants everyone to know the truth about those Fab 5 profiles on Friendster: "Those aren't us! I didn't even know what the hell Friendster is!")

Of all the ways Queer Eye has forever transformed the lives of its cast, however, the most fascinating seems to be that the show's very premise has allowed them to live, in effect, like straight guys--that is, without having to constantly explain their sexuality. Allow Thom to elaborate.

"When you're young," Thorn says, "or, in nay situation, a youngish gay professional living in New York, you find yourself in situations with relatives or neighbors or people that you've grown up with [when] your sexuality never is discussed. It's very different than when you're straight, where people just assume, Oh, my God, who are you dating? You find yourself 33 years old and nobody's asking you if you're in a relationship. But 'all of a sudden, I find myself in a situation where now it's like being straight again, in a way. I have that luxury of walking into a family wedding and everybody knows my situation; it doesn't need to be discussed. It's just easy mad comfortable. It's probably the best and most unusual gift that came from the show."

"When you're on TV as a real-life gay person," Carson echoes, "it's easier and more effective [a way to come out] than an e-mail to all your relatives. 'Hey, tame in Tuesday at 10. Big surprise!' Or not so big."

Not every gay person has their own TV show, of course, and the million-dollar question is the one the five have the hardest time answering: What does Queer Eye's success say about the position of your average gay person in the United States today?.

"Well, I hope that what it means is that society as a whole is embracing the gay community and just sort of relaxing a little bit," Kyan says. The show's success, he argues, has as much to do with its positive, "make better" ethic as anything else, without tribal councils or corporate boardrooms.

Both Thom and Carson, meanwhile, assert that the show's wide popularity means the country was more ready for the gays than anyone, including the media, ever anticipated. Then Thom reiterates for the umpteenth time that "we're not trying to change the world into the 'gay' world."

But are they turning back time on the gay world? Some of the show's detractors have argued that straight America likes the Fab 5 because they conform to long-standing stereotypes of the urban, effeminate, style-conscious, and superficial gay man--and that the show is telling gay America, "This is how you should be if you want to be embraced."

It's an assertion they all vigorously reject.

"We're proud of who we are," argues Carson. "As you see us on the show, you're seeing us as we really are in our everyday lives."

Some people simply project their own baggage and fantasies onto the show, Thorn suggests: "I've had gay people come up to me and say, 'I think you're perpetuating stereotypes.' I've had straight people come up to me and say, 'Oh, my God, I think my husband tins a crush on you!' I think people who look at [the show] for more than it is and have expectations beyond what it's really about are going to be disappointed whether you're gay or you're straight."

Which, ultimately, makes one wonder, Are we 'all just placing too much meaning on the show's well-tailored shoulders? "Yeah, I don't think that's realistic," Kyan says when it's suggested that Queer Eye might be changing hearts and minds. "First of all, our culture ... it has changed, but there's a long way for it to come. We have a president [who] wants to pass an amendment that keeps us from getting married. [The show is] not all that, you know what I mean?"

"I think you "always have to remember It's a TV show," Garry points out. "It is imperative that the [GLBT] community help America to connect the dots between the representations they see [on television] and the realities of our community as second-class citizens."

For his part, creator David Collins just refers to the mounds of positive letters and e-mails he's received about the show. "[They] simply boil down to just people having a comfortable place to talk and realize that Hey, Thorn, he's like my college roommate; Ted is like the guy across the street," he says. "They start to make those realizations just because [the show] gives them the opportunity to go places I think they normally wouldn't have. For that, I have to say I am very proud."

MOONLIGHTING

The Fab 5 branch out with solo projects this summer

* Jai is currently touring his one-man show on weekends and will return to the role of Angel in Rent for a brief run on Broadway in July.

* Ted and Kyan are both working on books in their respective fields:

* Thom remains the design director of Thorn Filicia Inc., his interior design firm, and he will shoot two new ads as spokesman for Pier 1 in August.

* Carson is taking a brief hiatus from Queer Eye for a small role in the Hilary Duff-Heather Locklear movie The Perfect Man.

* Creator David Collins and fellow executive producers David Metzler and Michael Williams are taking Queer Eye for the Straight Guy to Dallas in September for three episodes. They are still in the early planning stages for the Los Angeles--based Queer Eye for the Straight Girl, which they hope to debut early next year.

Jai's makeover

Can the "culture guy" overcome his ambiguous job description?

Perhaps it's to be expected, but the Fab 5 have spent so much time together during the past year that things have gotten a little, well, catty. They call Ted "Grandpa," even though at 38 he's the oldest by only two years. Thorn is "Fatty"--mostly because, as Thorn himself explains. "on Mad TV they used a really big: heavy guy to play me."

Actually, everyone agrees that Thom is the worst teaser, like a big brother who revels in picking on everyone else. "You should see some of the stuff that's on the cutting room floor." says Ted. "There's one episode where Thom put Jai in an office chair, duct-taped him to the chair with two whole rolls of tape--"

"--and then rolled me around the entire apartment," Jai finishes.

It's a bit of a sore spot with him. since that week's episode in particular made Queer Eye's culture expert, feel like he was living up to his Mad TV-coined nickname: "Useless." Jai was to lead an uptight heavy metal DJ through a calming bikram yoga session--but it didn't work out that way during the taping.

"Kyan is totally trebled in yoga," Jai says, "so he basically took control of the entire segment and spat out all this wonderful, amazing information. Basically, I made no impact on this guy's life whatsoever."

In many ways, Jai is the odd guy out: He's the youngest by 10 years, he's the only person of color, he came to the show after it was already under way, and he's the only east member who wasn't already making a living within Iris category when he was hired. Not that anyone could, really. "I think anybody would be so challenged by that position," says Carson of the "culture" tag. "It's such an amorphous area."

Jai, who played energetic drag queen Angel in Rent on Broadway before Queer Eye, says he auditioned for the show thinking he'd be more of a host. "Like, 'Hi. I'm Jai Rodriguez at this new hip and trendy hot spot in downtown Manhattan.' Even when I started doing episodes, they didn't know what 'culture' meant."

But the Queer Eye culture vulture says he's had enough. For the show's second season, he's been "really aggressive about taking control of my segments." he says. "I won't go on shopping days with someone else anymore." As for as getting back at Thom. Jai reports. "We hold him down and tickle him. We put me cubes down his back. We make a stack of doughnuts and put it right front of him. It's all out of love. but it" you're going to dish it you have to be able to take it."--A.B.V.

Vary also writes for Entertainment Weekly.