Let's do an exercise.
Let's pretend you are one of these Trad ɧoɱosɛҳųαƖs, who has a fetish for the Trad liturgy.
You have 4 options where you could go and plant yourself:
The local Sedevacantist chapel
The SSPX chapel
A small independent or Resistance chapel
The local Indult
Which of them would you be most likely to go with, and why?
I think that 99 times out of 100, the choice would be "Indult", and I'm not making this choice lightly. They have the most people, the most beautiful chapels/churches, and the most resources (best vestments, best lace, best equipment, most ornate altars, etc.)
AND, let's face it, any Indult or "approved by Rome" group is ALL ABOUT THE MASS. Not about the Faith. If they were about doctrine or the Faith as well as the Mass, they wouldn't place themselves under the heretics in Rome, least of all the Pope!
But for the most part, the Indult is all about "the Latin Mass" and how "it's better in Latin" and all that. When that is the be-all and end-all of your schtick, of course you're going to pull out all the stops and make your Mass as aesthetically awesome as possible.
Your reasoning is sound, Matthew.
If anecdotal evidence counts for anything, the swishiest, most flamingly effeminate man I've ever had the displeasure to be personally introduced to was one who regularly served (sometimes as subdeacon!) at the indult Latin Mass at Holy Innocents in NYC.
This was about a decade ago. I extended my hand to him as I would to any man to whom I'm being introduced, and was met with a limp-wristed, well-manicured mitt, held out daintily toward me, palm straight down, in the manner of a refined lady expecting her hand to be taken and kissed! I did what I could to turn that into a normal handshake, but it was like gripping a fistful of cooked linguine. I chatted for a minute or two with him and his fellow acolytes. Words can scarcely describe the profound disgust and discomfiture I felt watching his posture and mannerisms, which were like that of a flirtatious girl attempting to look demure - hands clasped together, talking over the shoulder, eyelashes batting... the sort of thing I was accustomed to seeing the coquettish co-eds of my university days doing; only now it was a silver-haired man in his fifties doing it.
Later, I asked another of the acolytes "what the deal was" with (and at that point I pantomimed a limp wrist). He laughed knowingly and said, "Yeah, that's just Percy (not his real name). He's... kind of funny, yeah. But he's a great MC, and he sure knows his Latin! Anyway he keeps all that stuff to himself. We've never had a problem with him."
The indifference in his explanation was depressing, but eye-opening. Apparently the standards were so low that, so long as Percy "kept it to himself" (which, I guess meant not bringing his boyfriend to church?), it was fine to have him flitting and mincing around the Sanctuary, doing as much damage to the sanctity and solemnity of the Mass - to say nothing of potential future vocations in the pews - as Subdeacon Liberace would have.
I have no idea whether or not Percy is still doing his thing at Holy Innocents, but if you've been there, and you've seen him, you'll no doubt know exactly who I'm talking about.