There’s a glass of ice tea half full and smudged with finger prints and lipstick on the night stand. The purple hum of Kelly’s Pool Hall sign welcomed white noise compared to the silence. Looking at the ceiling is like counting stars, impossible to complete regardless of the dark. The glass the only evidence that she was really here. The only reminder except for her scent on the sheets, and on your skin. A visit in between appointments with responsibility, hardly any time for anything more than a little one on one attention and a little bit of conversation right before … and then one glass of tea. A glass of ice tea left half full and smudged with finger prints and lipstick on the night stand. A glass taken into hands missing their mates and pressing a fading lipstick print against memories of the hot lips that only a few minutes before shimmered silently like a whisper in the Texas night.
Butch in Review
As I surfed for more info on Butch Fashion (ever since my wife showed me I could be fashionable and still be me, I have been a bit obsessed), I was pleased to discover some really thought provoking and interesting blogs RIGHT HERE in our WordPress community. I am glad to share them with you for your consideration:
The Butch Hunt
http://patlaw.wordpress.com/2007/06/12/the-butch-hunt/
The Nouveau Butch
http://nouveaubutch.wordpress.com/
Tomboy Chic: Style and Tomboy Femme (and other posts)
http://sublimefemme.wordpress.com/2009/03/25/tomboy-chic/
The Butch Fatale
http://sublimefemme.wordpress.com/2009/02/22/the-butch-fatale/
Butch Is In
http://butchstyle.wordpress.com/category/home/
Lipstick Lesbian and Identiy in the Community
http://lipstick-nyc.com/2009/02/10/lipstick-lesbians-and-identity-in-the-lesbian-community/
I must say that times have changed (God, I sound like my mother!). I remember when I was searching the dusty shelves of the university library as a naive young woman yearning for some “sign” to explain things to me, the information at the time mainly consisted of “studies” done in Greenwich Village and San Francisco, where butch style was basically look, walk, talk, and act like a guy, be untouchable, and chase femmes.
“Signs” included wearing a pinky ring and one stud earring. Being “bisexual” was not acceptable. You would then be “kiki,” and that was the scarlet letter of the lesbian world! It just meant you couldn’t make up your mind, were playing the field, and generally a dangerous individual to “healthy” lesbians.
Lesbian butches rejected beauty and, if lucky, achieved tomboyishly good looks if not truly fortunate handsome ones, but that was not common. Scientific studies “showed” we were average to homely, which was a way to be singled out. Reject any notion of beauty and be OUT! That was the way. After all, who ever heard of a beautiful butch??? (ha)
You might see why I am excited about what is probably nothing new to those younger and/or more in touch women … I had an almost ten year hiatus from the real world, but that is another story, in which I went through a kind of alternate existence and had no clue as the developments and evolution of the GLBT world (another blog for another time), so I am thrilled (1) to be motivated (2) to discover fashion (3) to be enlightened that the GLBT world has changed and is still evolving and I can be the butch I want to be!
Give me liberty or give me death!
A Shot of Butch With a Little Femme on the Side
The first day of Spring. Flowers blooming. Changes in the wind and in the wild. Victoria’s Secret models showing us what’s supposed to be underneath every woman’s clothes, especially if you want to be “sexy.” It’s also graduation time and time for weddings. What’s the connection, you might be wondering.
Well, the common denominator today is… PICTURES. And everyone wants to look their best, even to the point of airbrushed-fantasy-best, which suits me just fine. Love those boudoir shots, but that brings me to my Friday pondering … Why are glamour shots and such limited to the uber femme look? Why are there no “glamour” and “boudoir” shots for the tomboy/butch, celebrating the more masculine side of equal beauty/sexy/sensuality?
My partner describes me as a handsome woman. I’ve always been a tomboy. I’ve been every side of butch you can imagine, and yes, I even played femme (please note the use of the word ‘played’). Anyway, I am more in the middle of it all, if you must catagorize my looks, and I agree with her assessment (especially since that’s what she finds attractive). So, I had this fantastic business ensemble on yesterday, and I felt like a billion bucks, and I thought, Man, I wish there was someone that did glamourous pictures “butch style.”
In the eighties, there was a photographer that took great shots of more masculine sided women, from soft butch to hard diesel dyke, and she captured a sensuality that flowed from the chosen wardrobe to the personality and attitude of the subject. I want a photo session like that. But all that I can find is a whole lotta someone else’s idea of what the unltimate glam/sexy shot is supposed to be for a woman.
I’m sorry. I’ll just never be a Victoria’s Secret kinda girl in my photos. Not even a Victoria’s Secret Plus Size girl. My glam/sexy pictures will have to be more GQ-ish. I’m thinking Ralph Loren, Pierre Cardin, and Kenneth Cole… now that’ s more like it. Smile!
Too Quiet in Texas
Night falls quietly, like the blades of a ceiling fan heard whispering in the dark, pitch black ‘cept for the glow of neon from the bar outside the window, creeping in between the blinds. It’s so quiet that you can count each tick of the Timex resting on the table beside the bed. The bed itself too quiet. The last of her scent barely noticeable on the pillow, but you keep it close all the same, hanging on to whatever lingering memory you can, never realizing just how empty you could feel. The familiar comforts just make you feel worse, remind you just how alone you are, and while they call you out to play, out to enjoy a socialized distraction, you’d rather be alone with the thought of her haunting your heart instead of being with the crowd and quieting your mind. The only laughter you want to hear is hers. The only smile you want to see is hers. The only hands you want to feel are hers. And so you wait until her return, counting the holes in the ceiling and the rotation of the fan blades. Hoping that sleep will soon hit you hard enough to pass out before your desire to drop everything and get in the car gets the best of you.
Two Women Do Not a Lesbian Make
There are so many questions about sexuality and orientation, especially in light of “experience(s)”. I’ve read many a distraught woman’s blog regarding their confusion after an alcohol or drug induced close encounter with a best friend or caring emotions gone wild. They fret and worry over identity because of sexual satisfaction and an orgasm. Truth is, if you are into it and your partner (female or male, animate or inanimate) is giving you what you require to trigger your bliss, then you will have bliss. That should NOT shatter your existence and make you question everything you’ve ever believed about yourself.
Even if that partner becomes a living Starbucks to you, that is lust, darling, and pure yearning for more of those feel-good endorphines. Don’t use drugs – guess what? An orgasm gives you just as much of a chemical rush as cocaine. It’s all about the “feeling”. Ask anyone who runs about the infamous “runner’s high”. Same principle.
And sorry porn industry, throwing a bunch of women together in a mosh pit of sex is not a “lesbian” porn flick. More like lesbian-impostors gone wild!
So, if you find yourself in an intimate situation with another woman, and enjoy it, don’t be surprised. No, you’re not a lesbian. You’re just a normal woman with a normally functioning body. You see, it takes more than two women to make a lesbian.
