Advertisers have been less willing to bet on Weir. “Evan clearly is someone who is not being tagged with the label of being gay,” says Morgenstein. “It’s just the opposite as a matter of fact: Women love him, and I think men love him and that’s just the way this world works, for better or for worse.”
Meanwhile, the Weir-and-Lysacek show goes on. “I have a giant fan base, and I bring attention to the sport where it normally wouldn’t be,” says Weir. “There’s been a lot of pressure put on me by people higher up in my sport. They tell me I have to act one way, and people are wanting me to fake things, be more outlandish than I actually am. They know they can’t tone me down, so now they’re trying to get me to be even more out there. I’ve been told I need to be more crazy. And they’ve sort of pitted me and Evan against each other like Britney and Christina. I’m Christina, of course.”
Lysacek’s comments on Weir are more aloof. “When people are desperately seeking attention, it’s just not appealing, and I don’t think it’s appealing to viewers or fans or potential sponsors—it just looks desperate.”
For all their played-up differences in style, both Lysacek and Weir want to be famous, and fabulous. Last month, I met Lysacek in Vera Wang’s showroom, where they were putting the finishing touches on his skintight costumes. “Evan is very into fashion—after he’s done skating, I think he should be a designer,” says Wang. She suggested adding another bejeweled snake to the one already wrapped around his torso.
“My costumes are an evolution of what I’d wear everyday,” says Lysacek. “Maybe I’m trying to play a character, like a mystical creature, but I bring a little bit of myself to the picture, as well.” Then he squatted to test the elasticity of the pants, satisfied with the give.