But I’m frustrated by my reaction. She asked if I went to church, and I fumbled for the words to say… “uhm… I’m uh… I’m sort of in between churches right now.” And I’ll probably be like that for awhile the way things go.

I’m frustrated that I did not suggest to them that I sometimes go to the MCC (which I do). I’m frustrated that I didn’t say, well actually I am differently spiritual, now that I came out as a lesbian and left my mission work to others who will do it with much more passion than I can do anymore. I’m angry that I didn’t say, “I’m gay, now whatcha gonna do about that?” But sometimes much more care and tenderness is required in gently opening the minds of people who are unaware of the beautiful diversity that exists in the world. I wanted to be the one to tell her that she doesn’t have to be afraid of the unknown. But it wasn’t my time.

She didn’t even know she was speaking to a queer. I feel like that’s a problem, yet I don’t know that I would ever have had a connection with her if she knew…femme invisibility.

I’ve also been thinking about ways to change you, especially as you’ve just turned one year old. I want to make you more of a community resource, as that was the idea all along, but I’ve been thinking of better ways to do that. I’m going to start sharing you with more people, something I know you will like as well, allowing people to submit their own posts to be published instead of limiting the publishing to a distinct few.

I want to see more diversity on you, though I’ve been saying that from the beginning I haven’t done a lot to support it. Although we do have a bit of diversity among the authors it is not enough for me.

My comment policy is also something I’ve been working on for a while. I need you to be a safe space, both for myself and others to express our feelings without worry of mean comments. Respective constructive comments, sure, but downright offensive or mean ones will not be tolerated. I mean to create something like Kate Harding’s comment policy for you, but I haven’t gotten around to it.

I want to add more pictures to your layout as well, an idea I had when I first started working on this layout with it’s rotating images to the left, but something I haven’t put much into practice. (If you reading this have an image you would like to see there please send it to femmesguide AT gmail.com.)

So, TFG, while I know I’ve been neglecting you I’ve also been thinking a lot about you, but have been distracted by other projects and my own thing, just as Bevin talked about. It’s not you, it’s me, promise, but I’m trying to get better at writing.

Happy Birthday!

Your girl,
Scarlet Lotus

However, I did just start a new blog feature which I am super excited about sharing. Yeah, yeah, this is totally like taking your old date on a double date with your new partner. It’s true. But let’s just be open and poly about it and I’m sure you’ll like this. Agreed? HussyRed will totally back me up on this.

In the last few months, I have read and heard a lot of musings about Femme that begin with sentences like “There’s an unspoken expectation that Femme means consumerism” and “Femme is more than how many labelwhore handbags you own” and on and on about how Femme is so much more than spending money.

I find statements like this troubling. Partially because I think when people make arguments against “unspoken” anything, they’re making assumptions, usually out of insecurity. Assumptions and insecurity are the kryptonite of community building and connections. I also find it annoying because I think it’s falling into the WASPy* notion that we can’t or shouldn’t talk about money.**

The part of being Femme that I’ve found to be the most rewarding are the DIY*** aspects of putting yourself together. I haven’t known any other way to be Femme.

When I came into Femme, I came into it knowing lots of people who shared their resources. When I compliment someone on their make-up, for example, usually I get a response like “Thanks! It’s MAC blah blah blah” or “It’s wet n wild blah blah blah can you believe it?” Or if they didn’t offer where they bought something, and I wanted to know, I’d just ask. I’ve never had anyone bristle at the question and it’s been a great way to piece together my sense of style.

As fat girls, especially, since plus size clothes are so much harder to find than clothes under size 14, it’s always been my fat femme sisters who told me where to find things, how to modify things to fit, how to wear things to make them flattering, and most importantly, how much stuff costs!

Femme cannot be bought. Period. But the process of putting together a style that makes you feel comfortable in your skin does sometimes take some scrapiness and bargain shopping. I love bargain shopping–I call it Femme Hunting. Half the time the process of getting together an outfit is fun in and of itself.

So it is in this spirit of opening dialogue about Femme Hunting that I present my new blog series: Girl You Look Expensive****. I’ll find a fierce fat femme, interview her about her outfit and post it here. The idea is how you can look fierce and fashionable without spending a lot of money.

My top was free. Like, really, really free. It’s a t-shirt that I got at a Divabetics event at ReDress and then altered. My skirt is from Torrid via ReDress and was, like, $9. My shoes are glitter peeptoe flats and were a whopping $5 on sale at Payless. My bangle and ring are cheapie H&M. My earrings were $12 and are the most expensive piece in this ensemble. I bought them from a fierce young Black womyn artist on 125th Street in Harlem.

There are folk who are constantly talking about how femmes are totally materialistic and into consumerism and how it’s rare and special for a femme to have a budget, be eco-friendly, diy-fierce, or even poor. That idea is really classist, all on its own. It makes the assumption that all femmes have the resources and income and desire to spend small fortunes on their wardrobes. It makes the assumption that femmes who have fierce things spend a bunch to become that fierce. Untrue.

I am lucky that I live in New York City and have cheap and fashionable clothing resources available to me. As a femme of Color, I also have a shit ton of pressure imposed upon me to dress and carry myself in a certain way (clean and poised). I have the privilege to dress as funky as I want, have natural hair, and still be seen as human in the POC and queer communities. Julia Starkey’s essay “Fatness and Uplift” is a great resource about the cultural standards imposed on Black womy/en, especially when we are fat. Read it.

I also refuse to judge other femme’s priorities. Most of the Femmes With Money that I know are super humble and generous. And crafty and aware of their privilege.

I have a great balance of cheap and pricier items in my wardrobe. My friends and I don’t brag about how much our fierce crap costs or about silly brands, that just isn’t how our community works.

Places I love to shop because I’m young, fierce, fat, and poor:

ReDress NYC (Duh! Fierce fierce FIERCE)
AJ Wright (Great deals on handbags, shoes, and dresses!)
GirlProps (Cheap and cute accesories)
Etsy.com (Handmade goodies, totally worth $1 or $100)
H&M (I’m fat, but I swear by their jewelery and I know lots of plus size folk who can fit into their stuff)
Payless (But only during BOGO)
DSW (I love the purple sale tags….)

Taureret is starting a Radical Fatshion Zine. There’s a group on FaceBook if you are interested in joining and donating your skills!

*Defined by urban dictionary here. http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=waspy
**In this society, as women, as queers, as folks who don’t have access to making a lot of money, it is really important that we get rid of the tendency not to talk about how we manage our money or how we make our money. A lot of us just don’t have skills or weren’t raised in households where we were taught how to do that, or know any other way but living paycheck to paycheck. Let’s be real, a lot of us don’t have the option of doing anything but living paycheck to paycheck, but even some of us who do have an abundance don’t know how to manage it. When you have to get creative with money, that’s when having an open dialogue with community members is really helpful–about bargains, work arounds, making do and mending.
***Do it Yourself.
****Named for Jenna Riot’s AWESOME song of the same name. http://www.myspace.com/jennariotmusic

Sinclair says: “I’m told she already has about half of her subjects, but needs more, and that the majority of the women she’s interviewed are in their 50s and 60s. C’mon, twenty- and thirtysomethings, represent!”

RESEARCHER LOOKING FOR LESBIAN AND BISEXUAL WOMEN TO INTERVIEW BY PHONE ABOUT BUTCH/FEMME IDENTITIES.

Lesbians and bisexual women have used the terms “butch” and “femme” for over one hundred years but the meanings of these terms are vague and complex. I am looking to interview women about what butch and femme means to them, including women who don’t like these terms or don’t use these terms. I will focus on women in specific age groups (20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, and over 50), those who are single and in relationships, in rural and urban settings, and from diverse ethnic and racial groups. I will ask interviewees the following questions:

• Describe what the terms “butch” and “femme” mean to you. What are some characteristics of a butch and a femme woman? How important or valuable are these terms to you?
• How are conceptions of butch/femme similar to or difference from conceptions of masculine/feminine?
• How do you think your lesbian/bisexual communities view butch and femme? Is there a difference between lesbian and bisexual women in how butch or femme they are or supposed to be?
• How do you think mainstream heterosexual society views lesbians or bisexual women that are butch or femme? How are butches versus femmes accepted by families of origin, in the workplace, as mothers? Are hate crimes directed at women based on masculine appearance or attributes?
• How would you describe yourself in butch/femme terms? Has your self-identity about being butch/femme changed over time? In what ways? Are there situations where you feel more butch or femme? What are they?
• Do you currently have a lover? Describe your lover in butch/femme terms. How is this similar to or different from previous lovers? Are you attracted to women based on certain physical or personality characteristics? If so, how are these related to someone being butch or femme? How is being butch or femme related to sexual activity?
• Describe which household tasks you and your lover do, and who does which tasks. (If children) describe which childcare tasks you and your lover do, and who does which tasks.
• How does being butch/femme fit in with feminism? With being queer? With being transgender?
• In what ways are conceptions of butch/femme related to power and control?
• Is there anything else you want to say about butch/femme identities and roles?

Please email me at erothblu@mail.sdsu.edu and let me know something about yourself and how butch/femme identities figure in your life. Thanks for your interest!

Esther Rothblum, Professor of Women’s Studies, San Diego State University

Ok so a couple of blogs ago I mentioned how I was nesting a little bit and how a big part of that is that my partner and I were in the process of trying to buy an apartment. I didn’t talk much about it at the time because things were still VERY up in the air and I didn’t want to jinx things.  That said, things are now much, much, much more solidified and I feel like I can talk about it publically.  I’m beyond excited that we are buying an apartment, it’s really a dream come true for me to own our home, and the place we are moving into I absolutely gorgeous!

As expected things over the last week have revolved pretty solidly around everything that is happening with purchasing this apartment. It’s funny we’ve both become pretty addicted to playing online Tetris and ‘making the pieces fall into place’ which really serves as a larger metaphor for how well the process of home buying has gone so far.  We’ve been so blessed with how quickly and smoothly this whole process has gone for us. This week brought lots of big changes, officially signing the contract, and writing the BIGGEST check either of us have ever seen, the seller signing the contract and returning it to our attorney, interviewing/getting quotes from movers, our selling date being completely set by all parties, our move in date being confirmed by all parties, and hiring our movers. We’ve also been doing lots of packing, and have listed our apt. In Harlem several times and shown it to a few people—no one has bitten yet but were’ hoping that soon we’ll have the place re-rented.  We’ve started packing and our living room is not so slowly being overtaken by boxes and boxes and boxes (of course I’ve not even thought of starting to pack my clothes). Closing has been scheduled for June 25th and we’ve scheduled our move for June 26th!

Now, I’m sure you are all wondering about how this home buying business relates to femme blogging. Let me assure you, there is so much femme potential about this and it’s not just because we’re moving to Brooklyn where all my NYC femme friends have been trying to get us for years, but there are two very good and very concrete reasons why our new apartment = femme dream come true for me:

Number 1:  CLOSET SPACE!!!!!
At our current apartment my partner and I share a closet- I have the lower half (so there is more room for my shoes) and Kestryl has the upper half.  I’m sure that I don’t need to tell you how excited I am at the prospect of having my own closet! The closet that is mine even has built in interior shelves that will be ideal for storing my hats!

Number 2: FLAPPERS!!!
Yes I said flappers. Our new apartment building just so happens to be a restored 1920’s hotel!!!! I of course already have plans for writing lovely historical fiction stories about 1920’s high femmes and passing butches *swoon * Obviously the building has changed quite a lot since the 20’s but there is something completely breathtaking about the building lobby that just feels phenomenally femme to me- when you walk through it you can almost hear the clicking of flapper heels!  I can hardly believe that in just over a week and a half it’s going to be our home!

My Femme “aha” moments still happen, almost ten years after coming out as Femme. Just in the last 6 months I’ve discovered the lasting effects of revamping my lounge wear.

I’m a draglesque performer who has a huge stash of lingerie, but mostly really fancy stuff for stage use only.

Example of stage use lingerie from the Femme Mafia Masquerade in Atlanta. I like to have my Femmeceeing gigs to contain a “lingerie course” whenever possible.

I’ve never had a partner who cared for it. More than one long-term partner said to me “I prefer you naked”, which broke my High Femme heart. All I ever wanted was to be that vixen who comes walking into the room wearing a surprise frilly something or other*. Of course, it was a nice sentiment and helped my fat girl ego to have lovers who loved my body without accouterments, but I am still a fan of frill and accessory. I’d like to think that my ideal mate would like me equally naked and in lingerie just as they liked me equally in and out of make-up.

Last summer I started discovering the magic of vintage lingerie and wearing it as outerwear. Once Deb started selling stuff for Re/Dress (before the brick and mortar store opened) I had a hook-up for vintage lingerie. Here’s me last summer wearing a swiss dot nightie and a miniskirt.

I can’t wait for the weather to be warmer so that I can start wearing that again on the regular.

My friend Molly used to tell me all the time when I complained about doing housework, that she did it while wearing lingerie. It always seemed so weird to me. First of all, I like to be supported when I am walking around, which generally meant a bra, and I had so long associated t-shirts with “comfy” that it didn’t occur to me that anything else qualified.

Whenever I catch Molly randomly on skype, I am treated to lingerie. That’s her enormous cat.

I decided to start challenging the notion that I had to save my lingerie for occasional and brief visits from suitors** and wear it around the house for my own benefit. Now, I’m not really talking about crotchless nothings or underwear that wiggles down as soon as you walk two steps, I’m taking cute camisoles with a little bit of support in them (Target $15.99), vintage lingerie, frilly robes and the like. I have to say, it’s totally revolutionized how I feel at home.

The robes they made in the sixties look like they wouldn’t make any difference, but they’re totally warm because they don’t breathe at all. Probably flame proof, too.

This is a “live from the Femme Slumber Party” picture of Rachael and me while I was on gaycation at her house for the Masquerade. That’s her “Don’t fuck with me” face.

Rachael’s partner Steph, the Gay Dr. Phil and Purveyor of all Things Down Home Texas Wisdom told me I looked like her grandmother in the sixties. I took that as a compliment.

The best part, though, is that I feel totally glamorous and cute, even when I’m just sitting around in my house. Probably one of the greatest things I picked up at this year’s fat girl flea market was this long grey dressing gown that has a plunging v-neck (killer, yet supported cleavage) and is floor length. It’s also super soft. Leah told me it looked like I was going to receive royalty, not just make up my guest bed for her.

For a girl who loves dress up, dressing up in loungewear is really fun. Like putting on a full face of make-up and doing up my hair even when I’m in a foul mood, wearing fancy loungewear makes a huge difference for me.

If you’re a t-shirt and sweats at home femme, more power to you. But if you love getting dressed up, don’t wait for a partner to okay it for you. Do it for yourself.

*Though, to be fair, I do this on stage so it’s not really that big of a deal. And it matters more to me that I do it as a political act than as an occasional treat for a paramour.
**I enjoy the feel of me in lingerie against a butch in a ribbed white undershirt better than pretty much anything.

(taken on the MegaBus on my way to Philly)

Ok, so to be honest I’ve been falling a little bit behind in my regular blogging. I don’t have any super great excuses but it’s been a hectic month of starting to get things finalized with the manuscript for my anthology Kicked Out and in general with my day-job, touring, my family etc. etc. etc.  Anyway, I was planning on writing a blog this weekend about the experience of packing and how I’m not very good at it because I have little mini-crises all the time as in I’m going on a very short weekend tour what am I going to be packing? I do I need tutus? How many pairs of shoes? Aprons? Ladybug rain boots? Housedresses? Heels?  Anyway I was going to write a somewhat superficial short blog post about the difficulty I have when packing for gigs—-but being here made me stumble onto something more…. I don’t want to say “important” because to me fashion is very important, but let’s say timely.

This weekend I’m writing to you from the beautiful Swarthmore College campus in Pennsylvania. I’m here for the 21st annual student organized Sager Symposium, which is super kick-ass, and I was absolutely thrilled when they invited me to come and be part of it with them.  The theme for this year’s conference was Intersections of Queer: Coalition Building Across Our Communities.

I did a queer storytelling workshop on Friday afternoon, and then that evening did a reading called “Stories of Cell(ve)s Replaced” which comes out of my forthcoming book GSA to Marriage: Stories of a Life Lived Queerly During the Q&A after my reading one thing that came up from audience members was this idea of femme community, what it would look like—what it COULD look like, and how as femmes we handle the idea of invisibility and being seen as inherently less queer.

I didn’t have all the answers about this; I only know what my experience is.  It was interesting though especially because an audience member and all around incredible femme author, organizer, and activist  Amber Hollibaugh (who as an aside gave an incredible lecture on Saturday about LGBTQ aging) spoke up later in the evening starting with “as a 62 year old high femme” and continuing with really important insight about how femme community is something difficult to build. She spoke about how our community should be intergenerational, but how it’s something that doesn’t always happen.  Amber also addressed how femmes don’t always befriend each other, and don’t always build community together because of complex things like desire, and how even finding one another can be difficult—I couldn’t agree more.

Those of you who know me, or who are at all familiar with my work know that queer history is something that I see as incredibly vital and it’s a theme that features very prominently in my work including one of my stories titled Searching For My History that appears in “Visible: A Femmethology” which has just this month been released from Homofactus Press! As well as other pieces that will appear in my book GSA to Marriage… including “Where I Come From” which I performed as part of the 2008 Femme Show NE tour.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the power of femme community this week, and how important it is for me to have in my life. It’s been a dominant theme in the past few days for me starting at the beginning of the week with Amanda Harris’ wonderful blog over at Bilerico titled “A Different Kind of Herstory: Longing for Femme Mentors. The intergenerational  nature of community is something that I find completely essential. Through the creation of chosen family I am incredibly blessed to have strong relationships with queer folks of a variety of generations. There is however a void for me in that my femme community is not always nearly as intergenerational as I would like.

I’m curious to femme readers of all ages: How intergenerational  diverse do you find your community of femmes to be?  Is it something that is important to you? Is it something you are working to build? What has that process looked like for you? I know at different points I’ve struggled with femme community in general, have you? What is the importance of femme community to you?

But neither the show itself (including me spinning poi on stage for the first time in 3 years,  me doing arial ropework involving a really powerful piece about emotional angst and rape, or doing ropework on the floor that involved the painfully cathartic work of destroying a novel ripped from the bound author’ hands) is not what I want to write about today.  Its about my green corset.

We all have that one piece of our wardobe that has seen so much, done so much for us, with us, against us.  It has been there during the hard times and the good.  It has seen us fat and thin and every shade between.  It has laughed at us, supported us, held us.  It might be an old brooch or a favorite pair of shoes, a scarf or a coat.  I have a number of these, and this corest is one of them.

Green Corseted as a Woman

I got this corset from Morganna Femme Couture many years ago as a custom piece.  I loved it, though snapped the front busk quickly, shipped it back and the second held.  I tend to be hard on my clothing.  It is emerald green silk duploni and it used to fit like a glove- I could tightlace down to a 38D-28-42.  It was amazing.

I gave away most of my corsets, or sold them, or traded them, when I gender transitioned.  Firstly, no longer having breasts, over-bust corsets were silly to own.  Secondly, though I still identify as a drag queen, its been hard to get “girly” when trying to train folks to call me he.  I apparently confuse, baffle, make it hard for folks. But I had to keep this one, my orange and black PVC one by the same maker, and my leather waist cincher from another creator.  I could not would not part with them.  But neither could I wear them.

I have worn a corset “out” twice since transitioning until this weekend.  It was Dark Odyssey Winter Fire 2008 for the formal dinner.  Stockings, girdle (the one shown above), super-tall stripper platform heels, layers of black satin skirts and crenolines (long in back and short in front), tight orange and black corset, custom orange and black tall anime wig from Peacock Blue… eyeliner, glitter in my beard, and a flat chest under a black shirt.  People were baffled and yet had fun… but those who had known me as Bridgett (above) tripped over their tongues, unsure how to address me.  The femme fag boys were very supportive and loved it, and me. It was good.

The second was a drag piece for the Baltimore Erotic Arts Festival- where I came out in full drag queen/fetish model (for how different are they really?) glory, danced, stripped… then ripped off my fake boobs, got fully naked, removed my makeup, and got dressed into men’s garb before a “mirror” (held up by my friend Graydancer) all to the song “Unpretty” in the 2nd half by TLC.  I walked away in my own skin, comfortable, hand in hand with my refletion.

But I haven’t had the stregth.  Emotionally.  The whole drag queen thing is a lot of work, and currently rocking an amish-style beard I realized I need it.  The beard.  I don’t get she’d.  Ever.  Ok, except on the phone once in a while.  I love being being high femme fabulous for an evening, but if it means I have to shave it all off which will lead to me having to juggle the depression and frustration of getting she’d again… I just don’t have the strength right now.

So the corsets have lay quiet, borrowed by friends or just bundled and safe.  They lay fallow.  They were untouched, unheld, pulled no skin tight and forced no lungs to contort.

Wearing my Green Corset as a Man

Until this weekend.

The night before leaving on the trip I had a hair-brained idea and put it in my bag.  Black boots, black trousers, black shirt unbuttoned under the corset showing my chest fur.  Hat, goggles, key on a necklace, leather fingerles gloves.

It was good.  I’ve put on a lot of girth since going on testosterone, so instead of closing it it was open 4+ inches in back, and yet the look was still very dramatic.  Perhaps moreso because most folks in the audience had no idea I had ever lived, loved, and dressed as a woman.  Had no idea that once I was the woman above.  They saw a bearded young man with a 32″ corseted waist wasped in and gasped.

I could only wear it for an hour.  Costume chaanges, and I was out of practice.  It was good though, if hard.  I kept fearing that people would know, would care, and yet I knew I had to.  For me.  And in the name of art.  I’m still femme, and sometimes, I need to accept, that that means my love for corsetry needs an outlet.  I won’t be shaving my beard any time soon, nor my legs, but the boning is needed, the cotortion of flesh.  I need to feel it, to see my waist cinched in, to feel my power over my form, to feel light as I dance and laugh.

My love of corsets has not faded.

I’ve never really left my critique partner at a lack of words before, frustrated yes…but stuck like a scratched record, no.
And I’ve never been comfortable with the using the word bull dyke so I’m not going to use it in my writing…although I’m really not certain if my heroine would be comfortable using it. Maybe she would.

Explaining what the word meant took longer than it should have even though the work was self explanatory as to what I meant by genderqueer. She just didn’t get it, didn’t really want to understand it. Finally she asked, “So, like what, are you switching genres?”

My brain screeched to a complete stop.

What?
I write erotica.

Yes, but –

I write erotica. If I can write multiple renditions of M/M/F and F/F/M ménage link-ups, M/M and M/F couple hook-ups, and even a M to F transgender scene and not ruffle her feathers in the slightest…all acceptable as being within the genre of erotica… why did writing a F/F scene totally fly outside that scope? And it isn’t just my critique partner, I’m finding it at publishing houses as well. I will not get on my GLBT soapbox that if you say you offer GLBT that little L second letter over means LESBIAN = F/F. Nope. Gonna. Stay. Off. That. Soapbox.

Tonight I put a note up on my facebook looking for readers comfortable with lesbian material…
I’m sad. Very sad.

Here’s a small excerpt so you can see the context:

I met her at Will’s Hardware. I was trying to find the right screws to hang a sheet of drywall in the garage and she was looking at nails. Actually she was reading the side of a small box intently and, when she glanced up to see me, blushed eight shades of red. I smiled. I couldn’t help it, she being so cute, so blonde, all blue eyes and dimples. I wondered why she was blushing so hard but then she said, “You’re Frankie, the new mechanic, right?”

That explained it. She’d heard the rumors all ready. Nice. I’m the newest freak show in town and everybody has heard the gossip. Its okay, I knew it would be hard being the only openly genderqueer for about two hundred miles…at least to the nearest real town. Houston. There had to be at least one butch there, right?

“Guilty.” I answered, “I’m Frankie Marlow and yes, I am everything you’ve heard and probably more.”

Batting her eyes, she blushed a little deeper and smiled. It had been a long time since a woman gained my full attention with just a smile. I decided she was absolutely adorable. I’d been hit on by straight girls plenty of times, mainly girls who were just looking for a little thrill, who sidled up to the bar where I was nursing a whisky and assumed their cup-size and a wink would get them into my bed if not my heart. So, I wasn’t beyond taking a straight girl to my bed, even knowing it would lead to heartbreak; most love does.