‘Queer Eye’: In Defense Of Antoni, Our Sweet, Sincere Avocado Meme Machine

Earlier this year, Netflix brought us the triumphant return of Queer Eye, and with it, a pop culture maelstrom centered around a boyishly handsome “food expert” named Antoni Porowski.

Internet wars have been waged over the brown-eyed Antoni. His very name inspires robust debate and his presence divides households. Even New Yorker food critic Helen Rosner devoted a column to him and his “exquisite blankness.” The arguments against Porowski circle around his apparent lack of real actual culinary skills. He is, after all, supposed to be the Food & Wine expert of the crew. The arguments for Antoni? He’s a dreamy soufflé of a man: handsome, sensitive, and wonderful at serving heaping dollops of heart in a reality setting.

However, there’s something else Antoni Porowski has to offer: great memes.

I ardently love every single Antoni joke I’ve seen on the internet since Queer Eye debuted in the winter. I will chuckle over any joke about Antoni and avocados, swoon when I see a great joke matched with still frame, and even respond to my own friends’ texts with a screenshot of Antoni leaning back, eyes closed, with his hands upon his heart. If the Queer Eye guys are new cultural titans, courageously bringing this country together one cathartic cry at a time, then Antoni is their accidental meme mascot. His mug shows up and you feel a zing of delight.

Now, I understand that some people might be using Antoni’s ardent reactions to be cruel. But for me, my obsession with them has nothing to do with snark. This is the giddy embrace of sincerity.

Besides the very real complaints that Porowski might not be the culinary whiz he purports to be, the snide underbelly of a lot of the hate directed towards him feels like a mistrust of sincerity. All of the Queer Eye guys are hyper-positive and overflowing with emotion, but Antoni’s persona can feel like a living embodiment of all the feels. The way he enunciates every word, sobs in public, and sports a line of t-shirts inspired by Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life...it all seems a bit performative to be real.

We are living in an age where cynicism is the norm. The news is always bad and life keeps getting worse. The best thing to do is to harden our hearts to shield us from the inevitable tragedy. The worst thing might be to overflow with our own feelings. Such displays could be considered indulgent, or even selfish. But Antoni refuses to do that. If there’s one thing to be gleaned from a Queer Eye marathon it’s that Antoni really means every single overflowing expression of positivity, and he’s not ashamed of his emotions. He is earnestly okay with being earnest. That bold-faced comfort with sensitivity can make people feel uncomfortable, but embracing it feels like a delirious free fall.

So when I jokingly respond to a friend’s text or tweet with that specific photo of Antoni — the one where he’s holding his hands to his heart like a school girl in love — I’m expressing how much I love my friends. I’m loving what they’re saying, I’m loving what they’re doing with themselves, and I’m loving my adoration of them. I’m luxuriating in a mud bath of positivity, and I know how stupid it may make me seem. That’s the joke. Specifically, the joke is that I know that pure elation is perceived as some kind of luxury in our day and age, but I’m going with it anyway. I am the goofball holding my hands to my heart because I’m so overwhelmed with joy buying chili ingredients in a Georgia Target.

I am Antoni and he is me, and these silly jokes are my joy.

Stream Queer Eye on Netflix