I have always wanted to fuck Santa Claus. Or, to be precise, I have always been sexually attracted to Father Christmas. I was never fooled by the impostors in department stores with their false beards and promises. I wanted the real thing.

Being somewhat shy and retiring as a child I, naturally, kept my feelings to myself. Such fantasies were far from encouraged in my neck of the woods and for years I considered myself the only one with such illicit thoughts. It has only been within the last few years that I have found out that I am far from alone.

Over the last thirty years or so, the overriding image of the average gay man has been that of a slim, young man with a close-cropped haircut and a moustache. Clones, as they are commonly referred to, have become as much a stereotype as the limp-wristed femme of yore. Within the space of two decades, a quiet revolution has crept through the gay community. A global phenomenon which has gone largely unrecognised by the outside world, and, even by the gay media.

For those not born with perfect cheekbones, buns of steel and a body that has less extraneous flesh than a starved whippet, the clone look became an exclusive, rather than an inclusive, look. Gay pornography is dominated by images of young, fit, hairless, mostly white, males. Anyone who is over thirty and has less than perfect looks is consigned to the bin.

Not anymore, however, as men have given up the tyranny of dieting, surrendered to gravity's downward pull and thrown away the razor. Welcome to the cult of the bear.

The bear cult, as with most things in the Western world, emerged in the United States, around the early to mid eighties. The origins are unclear, but it appears to have developed in Florida. Partly in response to the AIDS crisis but also as a protest to the bodyism of the clones. Initially inspired by the films of Steve Reeves, an US bodybuilder turned b-movie star, but also by the mountain men of the Wild West. Perversely, bears have stolen the clothes of middle America with its baseball caps, plaid flannel shirts and jeans. Just as gay and bisexual men in this country have adopted the skinhead look, bears have adopted the outward appearance of those who would normally despise them.

Where Uncle Sam leads, the rest of the world tends to follow. Bear groups have sprung up throughout most English-speaking nations, such as Australia and New Zealand. Elsewhere, Switzerland, Belgium, Italy and Spain. All with little or no publicity, spread through word of mouth or the worldwide web. Only recently have the likes of Boyz, one of this country's leading free gay newspapers, deigned to mention bears, usually in a rather condescending manner. How, I hear you ask, does this fit in with wanting to make love to Santa?

Bears in Germany have adopted Saint Nicholas, or Father Christmas to us Englanders, as their patron saint. In German Bears by Klaus Schulte-Derne, who specialises in photographs of large hairy men, there are a number of Santa lookalikes. In this respect, he is a very Northern, if not distinctly polar, bear.

In Pierre De Mey's essay 'A French Bear Asks: Are Bears an American Thing?', he describes Santa Claus as the fifth of seven bear archetypes, being one of the basic components of daddy bear fantasies: "A man/child of advanced and indefinite age, Santa is a strong, jolly, good-natured, playful bear". A total contrast to the severe and emotionless clones.

To make love to Father Christmas may, sadly, be out of the question, being that he does not exist, of course. Although I have shown that there is certainly a good chance of bedding someone who bears more than a passing resemblance to that big man in the red suit who comes, as we all know, but once a year.

(c) Howard Watson 2000