
In West Hollywood, you could get In Touch for humorous articles along with your porn, Mandate for hairy-chested machismo, Advocate Men for twinks, Drummer for leather, Inches for...well, inches.
But you'd never dream of picking up Playgirl, except maybe when it featured a nude celebrity like Christopher Atkins. It was a magazine for women, with articles for women, ads for women, and heterosexual models disrobing for women. Gay men absolutely, emphatically did not exist. Who in West Hollywood could tolerate such a slap in the face?
Not until the 2000s did the editors admit, privately, that some men bought the magazine, that men existed who liked looking at photos of naked men.
They found something quite different from what they would find in a few years, in the gay magazines in West Hollywood or the Village.
The models in gay magazines were portrayed as overcome by a passion, grimacing, leering, inviting -- no, daring you to do the forbidden, to walk on the wild side.
But the models in Playgirl were warm and safe, comfortable, disrobing for a wife or girlfriend, inviting you to engage in in a wholely conventional, expected, "normal" activity.

The models in Playgirl tended to be more "natural," not particularly muscular, not particularly hung. They looked like men you might actually meet, who you might actually have a chance with.
So thousands of gay men moved to West Hollywood and the Village, expecting not endless nights of tricking with superstuds, but someone to cuddle on the couch with.