A quarter of a century of DNA

As DNA magazine celebrates its silver anniversary, we explore the highs, the lows and the future of the pink publishing leviathan that’s sold all over the world. By Peter Hackney.

In January of the year 2000, there was no Grindr, household internet had only been widespread for a few years and many Australians were yet to buy their first mobile phone.

Madonna was still the reigning Queen of Pop (Taylor Swift was a pre-teen schoolgirl), Kylie was yet to sashay through the ‘Spinning Around’ video wearing those hotpants and marriage equality was the best part of two decades away.

Nobody had any idea that a new Australian gay magazine launched that month, called DNA, would become one of the world’s most successful magazines of its kind – least of all its founder, Andrew Creagh.

“I had very little idea what I was doing, to be honest,” says the now 57-year-old Creagh. “I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

In fact, the Perth-born, Sydney-based journalist couldn’t imagine DNA’s future beyond the early 2000s.

“I guess I thought it would be around for a couple of years and then maybe I’d sell it and move on. I really didn’t think long-term at all,” he recalls.

But from those modest aspirations, a pink publishing leviathan was born. Next month, DNA turns 25. The January 2025 issue, which has just hit the streets, is also the 300th issue of DNA.

A quarter of a century since it was launched, Creagh is still the managing editor of the magazine, which is a familiar sight at newsagents, newsstands, bookshops and gay venues across the globe.

Today, DNA stands proudly amongst the pantheon of the world’s great gay magazines, alongside the UK’s Attitude and Gay Times, and American publications The Advocate and Out.

Just us boys

It’s hard to pinpoint any one reason for DNA’s longevity but, arguably, one of the key reasons is the magazine’s out-and-proud, no-holds-barred focus on men who are attracted to men.

No other publication in Australia (and very few globally) serves this market with a singular focus. Most publications are pitched towards straight people and the few that aren’t skew towards an alphabet soup of LGBTQIA+ readers.

While there’s a definite need for publications that cater to our wider rainbow communties (QNews is one of them), DNA is very much a magazine for and about men. It’s cornered a niche and, in turn, that niche market is loyal and consistent.

“I think that in the LGBT-plus world, we have decided that diversity is important – and it is,” Creagh says.

“It’s incredibly important and it’s wonderful. But I think there’s also room for men who like men’s spaces,” he says.

“So, our readers are mostly gay men, bisexual men, queer identifying trans men and men who like men who don’t identify as anything.”

But there are outliers, of course. Creagh says he’s had feedback from lesbians who like the magazine “for the fashion” and that he’s encountered heterosexual readers.

“I’ve had occasions where a mum has come up and said, ‘My son gave me this magazine as part of his coming out story,’ as well as the occasional parent of a gay son, who buy the magazine to learn more about the gay community,” he says.

Sex appeal

Another likely reason for DNA’s success is more obvious: it’s sexy as all get-out. The front covers of all 300 issues to date have featured attractive men in various states of undress.

Open up the magazine and the theme continues. Near naked men, usually musclebound, often fixing the camera with a ‘come hither’ look, appear in all their glory across extensive photoshoots.

Creagh is proud of the format, which he sees as one of the magazine’s great strengths.

“Many people look at the cover and go, ‘Oh, it’s soft porn,’ and I’m not going to back away from that,” Creagh says.

He acknowledges the photos sometimes lead to criticism around perpetuating “unrealistic” body types but is unapologetic. He’s at pains to point out that the men in DNA are “regular guys”.

“They’re not models,” he maintains. “Mostly they are just everyday normal guys. People a photographer’s bumped into at the gym or is following on Instagram or perhaps they’re an athlete.

“Very, very rarely are they professional models – we haven’t paid a model for 24 years. They’re just regular guys. So they’re not unrealistic because they are real.”

Realistic or not, there’s sometimes a price to pay for depicting unbridled masculinity in such an upfront way.

“We do get into trouble with advertisers over the sexy content,” Creagh admits.

“You’re not going to get Hugo Boss or Calvin Klein or Hermes advertising with us. When they’ve been asked, their response is, ‘The magazine is too, too sexy.’ And I think, ‘You’re a bunch of hypocrites because I just walked past a billboard of a 16-year-old girl in lingerie selling a handbag.’”

Breaking taboos

According to the 19th century American essayist, poet and philosopher Henry David Thoreau, whom some scholars believe was gay, the body is a conduit to the divine – and fashioning that body is akin to creating art.

“Every man is the builder of a temple, called his body, to the god he worships, after a style purely his own, nor can he get off by hammering marble instead. We are all sculptors and painters, and our material is our own flesh and blood and bones,” Thoreau wrote in his 1854 book, Walden.

Creagh’s sentiments are not a million miles from Thoreau’s.

“They’re genetically blessed,” he says of DNA’s models. “But they’ve also worked very hard to create the bodies they want. They have incredible self-discipline and they have a determination to achieve things with their body. I think that’s very brave,” he says.

Furthermore, there are taboos to be broken, Creagh believes.

“What I’m really saying with the covers and the people that we put on the cover is not, ‘This is what you should look like.’ What I’m saying is: ‘Here is somebody who does look like this. I would like you to enjoy looking at his body if you would like to. He would like you to enjoy looking at his body if you would like to. That’s why he’s here.’

“And I think that’s really important because the nude or the sexualised male body is still very much taboo in our society. Women are fetishised, as we know. Women are sexually objectified non-stop. You see it on bus shelters, you see it on the news. But as soon as you do it to men, people take a step back and they gasp and say, ‘Oh, that’s not right, what have you done that for?’”

While Creagh acknowledges the men are being objectified, he rejects any assertion that they’re exploited. In fact, he comes across as protective and admiring of what might be referred to as ‘the DNA Adonis’.

“People will assume that they’re stupid, which I find really offensive because if you read the interviews with them, often they’re musicians or architects or teachers,” Creagh asserts.

“People assume they’re on steroids, which possibly some of them are – I don’t ask – but I think if people have a problem with these body types, then they should delete Instagram straightaway, for starters.”

Sexy and serious

Of course, sex sells – and it’s a big part of the DNA story – but it would be a mistake to attribute the magazine’s durability solely to its images.

DNA also places considerable weight on serious, longform journalism.

Each issue includes comprehensive, well-research stories on matters such as global gay rights and political machinations affecting the gay community. There are interviews with cultural figures of note, extensive arts and entertainment pieces, features about gay history, engaging travel articles and intelligent op-eds.

“If we were just putting out a magazine with sexy guys, we’d be gone, because you can find sexy guys anywhere these days,” Creagh says.

“And if it was just serious stories, again, it wouldn’t work.”

In short, DNA is sexy and serious.

It’s a format that was pioneered in William & John, Australia’s first gay commercial magazine, which was launched by the eponymous gay couple William Easton and John Baker in January 1972.

Well ahead of its time, William & John featured gay male nudes on its covers and in its centrefolds, as well as serious journalism about issues relevant to the gay community – until pressure from the authorities contributed to its closure in 1973.

While Easton has since passed away, 74-year-old Baker – who was slapped with more than 60 obscenity charges for his role in publishing William & John – today lives in Katoomba, in the NSW Blue Mountains.

Offering his congratulations to DNA on its silver anniversary, the pink publishing legend is pleased to see the magazine carry the torch for unapologetic gay content.

“DNA publishing for a quarter of a century in an upfront, proud and unapologetic way is just wonderful,” he says.

“And it’s so well done. Thank you for producing a magazine that really caters to the needs of the gay community.

“To me, it feels like they’ve carried on our legacy, which we were unable to do due to the realities and pressures of the times,” Baker says.

Speaking to journalist and author Gary Nunn in the Sydney Sentinel in 2022, Creagh acknowledged William & John’s trailblazing role, saying: “I see a direct lineage to what we’re doing now with DNA. There are sexy men, there’s politics, arts and an irreverent attitude. We do all that! The formula is very similar.”

Bait and switch

The concept of ‘bait and switch’ involves luring someone in with the promise of something desirable – only for something else, usually less appealing, to be delivered.

It’s a concept invoked by Creagh when describing the balance between sexy and serious content.

“What I have to imagine is what is going to captivate the DNA reader. And sometimes those things are not a happy read or a good sell,” he explains.

“For example, the ‘Kill the Gays Bill’ in Uganda or stories about gay people being abducted and tortured by the police in Chechnya or gays who survived the Holocaust. They’re really good stories but all a hard sell, so I have to imagine, ‘How I can get the reader to read that?’ Because I think that they’re very worthwhile stories,” he says.

“So, it’s my job to package it in a way that’s going to make them go, ‘Oh, what’s that about? Yeah, I’ll have a read of that.’ And then hopefully get through 3,000 to 5,000 words of a very long, intense story about the way gay people are living in other countries.

“It is a bit ‘bait and switch’. Here’s the sexy guy on the cover, take me home and then when you get home, after you’ve looked at all the pictures and glossy fun things, you pick it up a few days later and go, ‘I’m actually going to read this story.’”

The digital revolution

Despite its success, there have been times when DNA might have hit the wall.

“Definitely in the first couple of years, we hit choppy waters,” Creagh concedes.

“Because I had worked as a magazine editor for lots of other people, I knew how to manage a magazine but I didn’t know how to do this and I did get into trouble,” he says.

“My current business partner bailed me out, basically. And he’s still my business partner and he’s amazing.”

But one thing that never threatened DNA – even though it’s led to the demise of countless publications – is the digital revolution. Said revolution is responsible for an industry-wide slump in print journalism, with many titles migrating online or closing altogether.

Not DNA.

“When the internet exploded and the digital publishing world began, everyone was like, ‘This is the end of print. It’s all over. Pack your bags and go home,’” Creagh recalls.

“For us, that didn’t happen because when we went digital, suddenly we were being accessed by people from all over the world … They’d buy a digital subscription and sometimes that would convert into a print subscription too.”

Explaining the way it works, Creagh says: “We take the print version, we adapt it into the digital version, which is basically just making different PDFs, and because it’s digital, we can add extra pages.

“So, we’ll add 50 pages and we bundle that so that if you get a print subscription, you can have the digital for free – not the other way around – including the DNA archives.

“Over the last ten to fifteen years, our readership base globally is broader than it ever would have been if it was just print alone,” Creagh reveals.

“So, thank you, digital revolution.”

Building community

Access to the DNA archives, where readers can trace the growth and changes in the gay community over the years, is a huge selling point for DNA subscriptions.

Arguably, DNA has not only chronicled but helped build that community.

Gay Australian actor, activist and former professional rugby league player Ian Roberts certainly believes so.

“Community,” he says without hesitation, when asked about the role of DNA. “It’s helped create community.”

“It’s part of our history, part of our storytelling, absolutely essential,” says Roberts, who’s had a long history with DNA as a subject of numerous interviews and photoshoots.

There was a time when queer people had to turn to queer media to read our stories – but today, our issues are widely reported by mainstream outlets. Despite this, magazines like DNA are still important, says Roberts, because they tell our stories through a queer lens.

“In DNA, it doesn’t get diluted,” he says. “It’s our stories, told in our voices.”

Queer and Indigenous TV presenter, actor and podcaster Matty Mills agrees.

Mills, a presenter on NITV and freelance reporter on Channel Nine’s Getaway travel program, says it’s important that “our stories are told by our people – and that applies to both gay people and First Nations people”.

Mills has been at the juncture of both in DNA’s special First Nations issues. They were launched two years ago and are published in July to coincide with NAIDOC Week, which celebrates the history, culture and achievements of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians.

An out and proud Gamilaraay/Kamilaroi man, Mills describes the First Nations editions as “rare examples of Black voices being represented in queer media”.

“There’s still a long way to go but things are heading in the right direction because of initiatives like that,” he says. Although he adds the caveat: “I think there needs to be First Nations people highlighted throughout the year, in the non-First Nations issues as well.”

For his part, Creagh says: “We’ve done two First Nations issues so far and I’m actually really happy with those. I really wanted to tell positive stories about LGBT people from the First Nations perspective. Often, First Nations stories are sad and bleak but it’s also easy to find really positive ones, like successful athletes, performers, politicians and people in the NGO space.

“Anything I can do to help bridge that world between LGBT and First Nations people, in that little Venn diagram where those people exist, makes me really happy.”

To the future …

Asked what DNA’s future might look like, Creagh is typically upbeat.

“Amazing, I think,” he immediately replies. “The way technology and media is changing so rapidly will lead to exciting new opportunities and new ways to tell stories,” he says.

“Just think how much things have changed in the last 25 years from print to where we are now. It’s just insane! So, our future involves continuing to jump through hoops and learning to do new stuff and finding new ways of bringing the same themes and content to our audience but in a different medium, whatever that may be.”

More imminently, DNA will be the focus of a new exhibition opening on 29 January at LGBTQIA+ museum of history and culture, Qtopia Sydney.

Curated by Creagh and Qtopia’s curatorial director George Savoulis, The Male Body is Still Taboo – 25 Years of DNA will celebrate DNA’s legacy while examining ongoing taboos around male sexuality and masculinity.

“The male body is taboo because of its historic sexualisation, censorship and the discomfort surrounding its portrayal, particularly in queer contexts,” Savoulis recently told QNews.

“DNA presented the healthy male body as aspirational, interestingly when the HIV antiretroviral drug discovery and development era was gaining momentum.”

A key component of the exhibition will be an LED video installation held in Qtopia’s Substation space in Taylor Square.

“The exhibition is going to be up for twelve months. It’s in a really interesting space and it’s going to be very fun,” Creagh enthuses. “And there’ll be free stuff!”

The exhibition aside, Creagh doesn’t have any specific plans for DNA’s anniversary or beyond – apart from the ‘keep on trucking’ ethos that’s served him so well.

“I’m fortunate to be doing something I really love,” he says. “And for now, I just want to keep doing that.”

Asked whether another 25 years at DNA could be on the cards, he replies: “It’s impossible to think what the next two years might hold, let alone the next 25.

‘I doubt I’ll make another 25 years but hopefully there’ll be a new generation and fresh blood coming in and doing it,” he says.

“I think that that’s important because, as I said earlier, there is still room for a ‘men talking to men’ platform.

“I think there always will be.”

DNA magazine’s 300th issue is out now. Visit dnamagazine.com.au for the current issue, back issues, subscriptions, merchandise and more.

The exhibition The Male Body is Still Taboo – 25 Years of DNA opens at Qtopia Sydney on 29 January 2025.