Artist Ria Brodell aspired to don Freddy Mercury’s tight white jeans and signature ‘stache, and the Miami Vice Dude’s cool calypso-linen pantsuit rather than play princess or tea party. What I love most about her achingly sincere self-portraits posing as dubious icons of masculinity is the tangled web of complications it weaves. What does it mean for a queer woman to paint herself in goache as Carey Grant, a gay man playing a straight man in sexuality-restricted 1950’s Hollywood? Hmm….what do you guys think? Any of you boys rather play with Barbie than GI Joe’s?