With When You Call My Name, Tucker Shaw captures 1990 New York City at a time when the HIV/AIDS epidemic was at its peak. For the novel, he created a powerful narrative around two gay teenagers: Adam, 17, and Ben, 18, who discover the meaning of queer friendship, love, and life in these terrifying times. Reading the book was a trip down memory lane for me as 1990 was the first year I lived in New York.  I am a fan of Tucker’s writing , but he and I are also friends having met around that time. His words radiate love and fear and hope. The book is an emotional reminder of an influential time in our lives but also it is an important history for new generations who flock to New York.

I spoke to Tucker about the book, the world we all inhabited during that time, and the influence of magazines, fashion, and models had on the cultural moment.

Congratulations on your book.  Can you share how the book came to be?

Thank you! When You Call My Name came about unexpectedly.

A few years ago, I wrote something on Twitter that, for reasons I still don’t entirely understand, gathered some attention. In its wake, an editor named Mark Podesta from Henry Holt reached out to see if I would be interested in developing a novel for young adult readers that dealt with HIV/AIDS in the 1980s and 1990s. I jumped at the opportunity. Eventually, after a lot of development and long nights at the computer, When You Call My Name took shape.

The book is geared toward young adult readers, but it also resonates with many of us new to New York in 1990. Why did you want to tell the story of Adam and Ben to a young audience, and what if any of it is autobiographical?

My goal was to give readers of all ages a window into what it felt like to be young and queer back then, when the LGBTQ+ community was going through so many defining challenges and changes. We had the unrelenting AIDS crisis in full swing, but we were also on the cusp of a dramatic increase in visibility.

We’ve seen dizzying progress in the decades since, from marriage equality to vastly increased media representation, but we can’t take any of it for granted. With all that’s happening in state legislatures around the country – book banning, “Don’t Say Gay” bills, anti-trans laws, and more – we have to stay vigilant. This book is my way to remind people, especially young people just discovering their cultural and political power, that our community has an extraordinary capacity for positive change. The proof is right there in our recent history. But we have to stick together, work together, and hold tight to each other. All hands on deck, now and forever.

When You Call My Name is not autobiographical. But there are many scenes drawn from my life experiences, and many characters inspired by people I knew and still know. I don’t think I could have rendered this story without having walked through some of the same terrain way back when.

There were many vivid memories for me in the book. Time Cafe, Private Eyes, Love Ball, the East Village. What’s a favorite place or moment of yours from that period?

Some of my most joyful times in those days were spent at Boy Bar on Thursday nights, dancing with cute boys and marveling at the glamorous drag shows. I also have deeply textured memories of lazy afternoons at the Hudson River piers, of staying out all night at the Sound Factory, of pumping my fist at political protests, of marching in the Pride parade. Pride blew my little mind every year. A million gay people all in one place, showing their collective determination to the world. Nothing will ever be as inspiring.

Family is an important influence in the book. For the LGBTQ+ community, it’s often our “chosen family” that we look to for support. Adam and Lily are classic best friends. Jack and Victor are mentors and guides to Adam. Rebecca is Ben’s brother’s girlfriend but also shares a special bond with Ben. Why are these relationships important to LGBTQ+ community?

Friendships are important to all young people, but I think especially important to young LGBTQ+ people because, no matter how great our “real” families may be, we often feel like outsiders within them. I grew up in the 1970s and 1980s when there were very few positive examples of LGBTQ+ life to connect to, and so finding friends who understood me, and I mean really understood me, was immeasurably important to my sense of self-worth.

Without my friends and chosen family (including you, Steven), I would not have been able to imagine a full life for myself. We leaned on one another in difficult times, celebrated together in happy times, and we’ve stayed loyal and loving for decades. I think many LGBTQ+ people of all generations feel this way about their own circles.

Let’s talk fashion. Ben is obsessed with magazines. 1990 was a high moment for fashion magazines. You write about a lot of them in the book.  Did you have a favorite? Is there a cover or photo shoot you were obsessed with? Favorite model then? Now?

Just like Ben, I was obsessed with fashion magazines. My friend Jorge and I would pile up the monthly issues – Vogue, Bazaar, Elle, and if we had a couple extra bucks, some of the European imports. We’d flip through, page by page, commenting on the advertisements and editorials, noting trends, finding new ideas, identifying models. We knew all the models’ names, we knew their signature walks, we knew how many covers they had, we knew which brands they represented.

The January 1990 cover of British Vogue, shot by Peter Lindbergh and featuring Naomi Campbell, Linda Evangelista, Tatjana Patitz, Christy Turlington, and Cindy Crawford, really heralded a new era in readers’ relationships to famous models. (It’s no coincidence that those same five women starred in George Michael’s groundbreaking video for “Freedom ’90.”)

I’ll never forget the day the September 1992 edition of Harper’s Bazaar came out. It was shot by Patrick Demarchelier and featured Linda Evangelista in a lace top, her hand holding up the second ‘A’ in the magazine’s logo. It carried only a single coverline: Enter the Era of Elegance. We’d never seen anything so clean and sharp and perfect, and we flipped. The phone in my little apartment on Avenue C rang off the hook all day, giddy friends freaking out at the magazine’s radical new look. It was the first cover under new editor Elizabeth Tilberis and creative director Fabien Baron, and it’s since become one of the most iconic fashion magazine covers ever.

I had so many favorite models back then. I loved Naomi’s astonishing runway presence. I loved Linda’s dramatic poses. I loved Christy’s serene features. I also fell in love with Stella Tennant and Kristen McMenamy and of course, Kate Moss.

But if I had to choose an absolute number one from that era, it would be Yasmeen Ghauri. She didn’t have the same level of name recognition as the biggest stars, but she walked in every single show and stole many of them. Truly a stunning presence.

To choose a favorite today is a real challenge because there are so many incredible models working now. But one who stands out is Quannah Chasinghorse. I always have to stop and catch my breath when I see a photograph of her.

So much is different about magazines today. You spent much of your career working in and leading magazines. What do you think of them today? What’s the future?

Back in the day, magazines were really the only window most of us had into the worlds of fashion, style, beauty, design. Today, there are so many more pathways into those realms, like YouTube, Instagram, TikTok, and probably a bunch of other platforms that I don’t yet know about. I am dazzled by all the new ways we have now to tumble into those worlds. The opportunities are thrilling. But, I’ll always prefer a big fat glossy magazine in my lap to a scrolling screen. I find it more immersive that way, easier to get lost in. Perhaps that’s how you know I’m an old man now.

As to the future? Who knows? If we’ve learned anything over the past thirty years, it’s that media predictions rarely play out as we expect them to. I do think the business of media as a whole, and fashion too, will continue to be driven more and more by the audience than by the so-called gatekeepers. To make a media property work, you have to have a crystal-clear mission, but also be nimble and quick and open to new ideas for how to communicate it. Pay attention to Gen Z; where they lead is where we’ll go.

Tell me about the American designers who appear in When You Call My Name. Describe your own style back then and how you dress now.

Perhaps my favorite character in the book is Rebecca, a fashion photographer on her way up who takes Ben under her (sometimes prickly) wing. She enters the story in a Patrick Kelly jacket; we soon learn that Kelly was one of her favorite designers. Kelly grew up in Mississippi but worked mostly in Paris, where his shows were full of exuberance, joy, humor, and warmth. Sadly, he died on January 1, 1990, at age 35, of complications from AIDS, but his influence remains strong on American design even today. Other American designers whose names show up in the book include Donna Karan, Marc Jacobs, Perry Ellis, and others.

Back then, as now, my own personal style is relatively quiet. My palette was and is dominated by black, gray, navy, sometimes denim. Diana Vreeland would have been appalled, but these muted colors feel comfortable to me. I’m much better as an observer than as the center of attention, and so the basics – jeans, solids – make sense.

Having said that, I’m now remembering how twice a year we’d scrounge together our pennies and hit the Barneys Warehouse Sale or Century 21 in search of a chic little Gaultier top to wear to the Sound Factory. Just for kicks.

There is so much fashion history in the book. Elsa Klensch, Antonio Lopez, and Bill Cunningham are a few icons referenced. What should young readers know about them?

We watched Elsa Klensch on CNN every Saturday morning without fail, because she always had footage from the latest fashion shows (nearly impossible to find anywhere else in that pre-internet era), plus behind-the-scenes interviews with designers and an occasional model profile. She was our ticket backstage.

Antonio Lopez was, in my mind, the most exciting fashion illustrator ever. His work helped define an especially glitzy era – the 1970s and early 1980s – and helped establish names like Jerry Hall, Grace Jones, and Tina Chow as avatars of high fashion. His influence endures even now.

Bill Cunningham was a roving photographer for the New York Times for decades, shooting candids of bold-faced names at exclusive parties and galas, as well as everyday New Yorkers out in the streets. He found beauty and new ideas in every direction. Bill was always on his bike, with a point-and-shoot camera hanging from his neck, looking for the next flash of inspiration. The 2019 book, “Bill Cunningham: On The Street” is a remarkable collection of his work starting in the 1970s.

For a young person reading the book it offers insight to a career in fashion especially what goes on during a photo shot. Are any of the characters based on real people? Did you ever work or want to work in fashion?

My very first job interview when I arrived in New York at age 22 was at Vogue. I was gunning for a job as an assistant to Raúl Martinez, who was Anna Wintour’s design director at the time. But I arrived at the offices (on Madison Avenue back then) drenched in raindrops and looking like a mess, and, though everyone was gracious, I didn’t get the job. Instead, I went to work for a new startup magazine called Out. There were only three of us then: founding editor Michael Goff, publication designer Roger Black, and me. I spent only a year there, and departed before the first issue came out, but I’ll never forget that stint. It felt like we were building something new, which we were. It’s amazing how far Out has come since then.

I also did some freelance assisting for various photographers and stylists, dragging bags of clothes around town, setting up and breaking down sets, picking up and dropping off film. But ultimately my career took a different path.

The characters in the photo shoot scenes in When You Call My Name are fictional, though there is a short cameo inspired by my friend Jorge, who spent many years as a stylist in the city.

You’ve written about food for the Denver Post, have published cookbooks, and were an editor-in-chief at America’s Test Kitchen. You beautifully wrote about Ben shopping for and cooking for Gil. Do you see any similarities between fashion and food?

I see so many similarities. Fashion and food both tap into creativity, fantasy, tradition, tactile sensuality, individual expression. We all interact with both of them every day, whether it’s a mundane day (boring breakfast and a pair of joggers) or a fancy day (glitzy dinner party and a sharp suit).

They are necessities for life, of course, but they are also uniquely powerful tools for self-expression. Through them, whether you’re conscious of it or not, you communicate something about who you are and what you value.

The moment Callum tells Adam he is HIV positive reminded me how uncertain and confusing dating was then. But it also was a moment of compassion and love. Adam is determined to do anything he can for Callum. What can we learn from their relationship?

Adam is learning that relationships hinge on choice. You choose to be together, or not. You choose to stay together, or not. A relationship is a living thing and you have to constantly define, and re-define, what its contours will be. Day after day, year after year, in good and bad times.

In his relationship with Callum, Adam is learning that these definitions aren’t always so clear or simple. What does it really mean to give and receive affection? What does it really mean to commit? What is the cost you’re willing to incur when you decide to place love above everything else? What is the payoff? When is it worth it to stay, and when is it time to go? Adam is learning that there are no easy answers, or maybe no answers at all. And yet, he, like most of us, is drawn to love anyway. It’s our nature.

Last question. Are you more Adam or Ben?  I’m Adam. 

I hate to punt, but the truth is I’m a little bit of both. And I’m a little bit of Callum, a little bit of Lily, a little bit of Jack, Victor, Rebecca, Justin … I think that’s the nature of fiction. There’s a little bit of the author in all of it.