I am not a crowd person. My Fridays lately involve reruns of The Practice; I go to bed at 10 and feel heroic about it. And yet here I was at Dolores Park for at least the third year in a row.
Hunky Jesus is queer church without the guilt. It is what Pride would be if corporations hadn't found it. And it is San Francisco’s most sacred act of nonsense. I don’t especially need to join 10,000 people on a hill to know this, but Hunky Jesus is also the beat that stopped people calling us "that blog."
We won a journalism award for a contest featuring a man dressed as Jesus Ken, with a fuchsia crown of thorns and a retail box that said "choking hazard" on its label. And I do mean we: the award from SF Press Club was given to five queer, San Francisco-based photographers, content creators, and journalists for The Bold Italic.
I think about that a lot, especially amid quiet criticism that this reporting was too fluffy. Ahem:
I’m sorry that Idaho just signed a law three days ago criminalizing trans people for using a bathroom, on Transgender Day of Visibility no less, and we're still being asked to justify covering the people they're targeting.
I'm sorry that 111 anti-LGBTQ laws were enacted last year alone, the highest on record, and the number keeps climbing. I'm sorry that Florida just spent its entire legislative session trying to ban Pride flags from government buildings, fine cities for flying them, and strip funding from AIDS drug assistance programs.
I'm sorry that there are now more anti-trans bills at the federal level than there were in all 50 states combined four years ago. And I’m sorry that covering a community celebrating itself in public, while that same community is being legislated out of public life in 42 states, strikes you as fluffy.
I could go on, and I want to. But the 34,000 subscribers getting this email actually want to read about sexy people performing acts of praise and defiance. And I am, as always, here to deliver.
So I only made it home about an hour ago and am mostly here to report the breaking news you'll only find here: Skin is in. Sex sells. Three out of the final four Hunky Jesus contenders were—in fact—quite hunky.
Palestinian Balloon Jesus
Honestly not a lot to say about the costume; a real crowd pleaser for obvious reasons of both the political and sexual variety. On learning he blew all the balloons himself, Sister Roma commented, "You must have quite the pair of lungs on you!" Those aren't his lungs you're looking at, Roma.
'Fuck Ice' Jesus
This guy was more message—and smile—than anything else. I thought for sure he won. The crowd loved him.
Hunky Cheez-Its
We had a broad number of good gimmick Jesuses, including somehow two French ones? I don't know why that's a thing, and they both had wine but no cheese. Hunky Cheez-Its had plenty. Honestly I remember last year there were like a million "Jesus Got Bred" with like, costumes that had loaves of bread all over them. I appreciate Mr. Cheez-Its for evolving the gimmick.
Renewable Energy Jesus
And the winner goes to this guy. He had a cute concept but I really think the crowd voted with their crotches, and that the "Fuck Ice" guy got louder cheers. But this all was certainly better than last year's obnoxious overblown disco rhino. Or whatever that was.
A lot of hilariously adorable concepts won my heart, and that's all that matters. They include:
- A Bob Ross Jesus (Anything Bob Ross is right up there with a Jane Fonda workout video for me.)
- Two Mr. Rogers Jesus. Did something happen recently with this guy that I'm missing? Is he on TikTok? He died in 2003.
- A "Moo"-siah pair dressed like a cow and his milker. This was a crowd favorite and finalist. They all moo-ed when the pair got voted off.
- A Fitness SF Shower Jesus that was all too real. He poured I guess suntan lotion on himself in an obvious allegory to semen.
- Some silver-haired daddy who just moved from Texas and apparently was just looking for a date. He sported a fringe jacket that said "Jesus Was Hung" on the back. Because of course.
A couple of kid contestants were also super cute. Then in the Foxy Mary contest, a team came up to enact Bloody Mary that was, by most accounts, gross—lol. I enjoyed later a small woman who called herself the Virgin Bloody Mary, the patron saint of brunches and the male loneliness epidemic. 😂
Then of course the bonnet contest, which I think my good friend David Reardon won. I couldn't tell who it was because his face was covered and just went as a magenta bonnet, or pink or something like that. He and the "Golden Cock" bonnet tied for first. Some priestly guy in an elaborate had that, when revealed, was an actual golden rooster that had "risen"? It worked out a lot like Mr. Cheez-Its; people ate that shit up.
But the crowd favorite bonnet was, of course, Heated Rivalry themed.
Last year I wrote about Hunky Jesus, "Here is a crowd that will hand you sunscreen, fix your lash, and call you gorgeous in the same breath." Can I tell you something? I just said it to say it. Easter in Dolores is always a good vibe, so it's also easy to wax positive about it.
This year though, I really did run into all sorts of casual friends who kept offering me drinks, sunscreen, a place to sit. I know this sounds a little weird but I used to like all that a lot more. Now I generally can't wait to get home. It was a long fucking weekend, but Easter in Dolores Park was—sincerely—a fabulous time.
Saul Sugarman is editor-in-chief and owner of The Bold Italic.
The Bold Italic is a not-for-profit media organization, and we publish first-person perspectives about San Francisco and the Bay Area. We operate under a fiscal sponsorship of a 501(c)(3).
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More photos from Hunky Jesus 2026
Photos taken by Saul Sugarman for The Bold Italic.
A few more I found posted publicly in my friend network by Christopher Clemons, Donny Inbar, Drew Ward, Jennifer Jensen, and Novice Sister Hagatha Underkilt. I'm mixing them with mine, below, and will add more to the web story.
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Passover in San Francisco Looks Nothing Like the One I Grew Up With
San Francisco is quite often a city of people who left somewhere else and are still figuring out what they brought with them. That's basically the plot of the Exodus. So maybe it makes sense that Passover here doesn't look like Passover anywhere else. The seders happening across the Bay this week are serving cardamom matzoh and ube macaroons. They're asking questions about climate justice. They have dress codes.
My Favorite Places to Eat Outside in San Francisco's North Beach and Nearby
North Beach is the neighborhood where you go to sit outside, watch people walk by, and eat something good without making a whole production out of it. The sidewalks are wider than they have any right to be, the side streets are quieter than you'd expect, and there's almost always a table somewhere if you're willing to look.
My Favorite Places to Eat Outside in the Mission and Castro, San Francisco
San Francisco has maybe three months of reliable outdoor dining weather. Four if you're brave. But here's the thing: we do it anyway. We sit outside in 54-degree fog and call it "refreshing." We wrap ourselves in restaurant blankets like it's totally normal behavior. We commit.
The Mission and the Castro are ground zero for this particular form of optimism. Both neighborhoods are packed with restaurants that have patios, gardens, rooftops, and sidewalk setups that make the gamble worth it. These are my favorites.
A word from our sponsors
This month we are sponsoring LGBT Center Soirée 2026. This isn't a paid gig; but they promised to sing The Bold Italic's praises on their party brochures and messaging, so long as we did the same. I have gone to this party twice before. It's not as fancy as, say, Art Bash or SF Ballet's opening gala, but—much like Hunky Jesus—it is a great time to see many notable faces in the LGBTQ+ community. And a good time to reuse yester-year's Pride dress. Sister Roma and Honey Mahogany aggressively went for those fundraising dollars at the 2024 dinner. And I loved the drag performances that year.
LGBT Center Soiree party details:
📅 Saturday, April 18, 2026
🕑 5:30 PM
📍City View at Metreon
🏠 135 4th St, San Francisco, CA 94103
Sister Roma
Saul Sugarman
Oh, also
Between donations, advertising, and subscriptions, The Bold Italic now has enough as a digital property to go on living on the internet. Thank you, thank you, thank you again. None of us are yet able to run this magazine full-time, so if you want to support that goal, again: become a paid subscriber. Or donate.
Finally—in light of celebrating our Hunky Jesus award—I want to also note I just discovered today that the first SF Press Club award for The Bold Italic was in 2020. In a story that's still on our website, by Jaya Padmanabhan: For Aging Immigrants, Food from Their Homelands Is Key to Happiness
Jaya Padmanabhan
