In the early Nineties, an expression became voguish across gay communities. ‘Post-victim politics’ was a new mood, a shared hustle. A vibe shift, if you will. In response to the catastrophic death toll from HIV, something emboldened the living, a narrative U-turn which would stop us viewing ourselves as passive targets of a hostile establishment. The fightback began: bold, strident, funny, crude and clever. No more, that was the message delivered from the frontline. It was in this climate that Paul O’Grady, wearing the demonic Friday night drag and Bet Lynch wig of Lily Savage, started his gloriously unapologetic ascent to public prominence.
O’Grady was grassroots, working-class gay culture personified. Funniest man in the pub. Sharpest tongue on the block. In the gradients of razor-sharp regional gay humour, Scousers frequently win the comic lottery. O’Grady was a gold medallist across all disciplines.
