The presence of transvestites, homosexuals or lesbians was not unusual in society under the Porfirio Díaz administration. Implicit in history and in popular gossip, between the lines of the literature, there was a veiled presence of sexual diversity that ran through the nineteenth century like an underground river. In the words of Carlos Monsiváis (1938-2010): “to be decent and have good manners was little more than a fabricated amnesia, little more than arrogance that improvises a past and invents traditions to obtain verification and legitimacy.” Given the indulgence of their peers, they may assume [a role] under a mask, [create] challenges without any risk. They are rich and powerful, owners of haciendas and human lives: why not try dances with a close circle of friends, far from the mask of good manners, edging close to perdition but appealing to temptation? Anything like this, even within the strict parameters of the carnivals, becomes impossible after the dance of the Forty-One. In the words of José Joaquín Blanco in his work Función de medianoche [Midnight Show] (1998): “When he loses himself in the urban mass, the homosexual gains freedom. This depends on having sufficient means to move fearlessly around in clandestine places and pay their high admission fees. He must also have the means [to make payments exacted] for toleration of his habits (through outright or veiled extortion). Above all, he must have the means that underlie the sense of entitlement to live his life in a different way. This is why in past centuries, only a few artists, aristocrats or members of the bourgeoisie were able to afford this luxury.” Years later, in portraits and caricatures, artists such as Diego Rivera (1886-1957), José Clemente Orozco (1883-1949) and Antonio Ruiz (1897-1964) both ridiculed and attacked the feminization of a certain cultural sector in Mexico.