The New Yorker has a profile of Saúl Armendáriz, the luchador Cassandro, and his fellow exóticos of lucha libre. “Exóticos have been around since the nineteen-forties. At first, they were dandies, a subset of rudos with capes and valets. They struck glamour-boy poses and threw flowers to the audience. As exóticos got swishier and more flirtatious, and started dressing in drag, the shtick became old-school limp-wristed gay caricature. Crowds loved to hate them, screaming ‘Maricón!’ and ‘Joto!’ (‘Faggot!’). The exóticos made a delightful contrast with the super-masculine brutes they met in the ring. Popular exóticos insisted that it was all an act—in real life, they were straight. Baby Sharon was among the first, according to Armendáriz, to publicly say that, no, he was actually gay.” Via Die, Danger, Die, Die, Kill!