what makes you bat an eye?
what makes you bat an eye? is it the perfect way a girl’s arm looks in the sleeve of her boy’s t-shirt? is it the way her jeans fit just right in that androgynous way? is it a glint in her eye? is it hair? is it chest? is it legs? shoulders? what makes you bat your eyelashes and swallow hard?
for me it can be anything, depending on the person, but a perfect, smooth, soft stomach is not something i can tear my eyes away from. my hands, either. my lips, either. that collarbone that juts out just slightly, no, no, not in an anorexic kind of way, but in a fit, sexy, strong way. a collarbone peeking out from a v-neck or button-up shirt has turned my head more times than i can count. i know this is obvious, but eyes can say so much, and make you FEEL so much, i truly find it amazing, staring into a lover’s eyes, how many feelings are stirred.
lately i wear eyeliner every day since i hope it makes me eyes irresistible to a certain someone. you may have guessed she has perfect arms and a tummy that makes me swoon.
but this is all just fluff. this is just what makes me bat my eyes at her. there’s so. much. more.
Add a comment July 29, 2010
girls who look like bois
so. my straight friend asked the inevitable question the other day.
“so… sorry if this is inappropriate, but my husband and i were talking and we were just wondering, what’s with the girls who looks like guys? like, why not just be with a guy? like, why do you like only girls that look like boys?”
sigh. yes, this would be an inappropriate question from an acquaintance or a stranger, but i am fine with it from a good friend. but how to explain? really, how can i explain it other than – it just is.
girls who look like boys make me crazy. they are hot. they are strong. they are sexy. they are different. they have a whiff of something masculine, but underneath it all they are women. boys don’t make me blush and sweat and dream hot writhing dreams and feel a little quiver down there in my jeans. boys do nothing for me. case in point, i just got a tattoo (a story for another time) and my straight friend sat with me. after we walked out of the tattoo joint she gushed “OMG he is soooo hotttt” and i was all “who? wha? where????” i didn’t even notice him. i don’t care for boys. men. but a woman with a short haircut and broad shoulders and strong body and man’s wardrobe and boi-ish glint in her eye spins me right round. like. a. record. baby.
i can’t explain it. it’s like when my daughter asks me why her hair is blonde and her skin is pale and her friend lalin’s hair is black and skin is brown. i answer, that’s what your genes told your body to do, to be, to grow. she took this in and asked hilariously “so my pants told my skin to be pink and lalin’s skin to be brown?” (genes/jeans… lol). so why do i love butch women/bois/transmen? because. i dunno, i guess my pants told me to.
2 comments July 14, 2010
corset=femme!
my friend is getting married, so i went corset/bustier shopping with her. but secretly i wanted one. i tried a few on. one of them just wouldn’t let me walk away. it makes me skinny! it looks HOT! it’s pinstriped and looks good with a skirt and heels, or with jeans. i wore it out. to the bar. dayum. is all i’m saying.
but seriously? a corset? yeah, it sucks you in. it braces all the right parts and squishes all the right (or is it wrong?) parts. makes me have a waist. highlights my assets. but. corset?! it’s so retro. the thing is so tight and so … strong… when you’re in it you don’t realize, but as soon as you pull the tie to loosen it? the sudden rush of oxygen is such a high that you realize you haven’t breathed in 4 hours. it’s so … victorian. antifeminist. silly.
anyway. i don’t know what it means. but i like it and it feels good to look good. and sometimes that’s all a girl needs.
3 comments July 13, 2010
tattoos
I love tattoos. Do you love tattoos? I don’t love them like the people who have full body tats or sleeves or facial tats or whatever. But I have 3, and I love them, and I plan on getting more.
Lately I’m feeling a need for visibility. Hello, I’m femme, and I’m single, and femme lesbians tend to be invisible without their butches on their arms. To the general public, I mean. I’m not a superhero with invisibility powers. So I’ve been seriously contemplating a pride tattoo in an obvious, visible location, to, well, dissolve my invisibility shroud. I’m thinking about a waggly flag-like rainbow across my forearm. Or a line of rainbow coloured stars. What do you think? Please! Tell me what you think? I want to know. Is this the move of a crazy woman, or is this a good idea?! Do you recommend some nice, sensible pride jewellery instead? Or that I just calm down? Maybe I should start flirting shamelessly and loudly with every woman in sight? Srsly. Tell me what you think.
2 comments June 30, 2010
a tiny bit worried
i’m a tiny bit scared. what are scientists up to? here’s an article that scared my femme-y little butt. the headline reads:
Doctor Treating Pregnant Women With Experimental Drug To Prevent Lesbianism
and as dan savage says, she’s not “just trying to prevent lesbianism by treating pregnant women with an experimental hormone. She’s also trying to prevent the births of girls who display an “abnormal” disinterest in babies, don’t want to play with girls’ toys or become mothers, and whose “career preferences” are deemed to “masculine.”
so not only is this immoral and horrific, it terrifies and puzzles girly-girl me. as savage points out, “the existence of adult women who are not interested in “becoming someone’s wife” and “making babies” constitutes a medical emergency that requires women who are currently pregnant to be treated with an experimental hormone.”
because what the FUCK are they going to do with women like me who are interested in “becoming someone’s wife” (just that that someone’s a woman too) and “making babies” (just with a donor instead of a dick)???
these “scientists” are psychotic. and i’m afraid. what is it about me that makes them hate me so much? do they hate butch women MORE than me, because they are more “masculine”? do i fit their model of a woman better? if they find straight women who don’t fit the right stereotypical girly behaviours, will they be thrown on the chopping block too? they are experimenting on pregnant women and their girl babies in order to control and destroy us. is anyone going to stand up to them? is anyone going to put a stop to this kind of “science”? i may just be a girly girl, but i’ll fight to the death on stuff like this. i just hope it doesn’t come to that.
2 comments June 29, 2010
where are all the butch girls?
srsly. where am i supposed to meet them? do i have to start going to baseball games? do i have to start going to the bar? one butch girl said to me “what the hell are you talking about? we’re everywhere!”
srsly? where? here’s me: i go to work. i do photography gigs. i go to 5-year-old-oriented events. i go to book club. clearly, this is not working. so. tell me. i beg of you. i want one.
2 comments June 27, 2010
farm girl femme
i’m a girly girl femme. but i’m a farm girl femme. well, actually. i didn’t grow up on a farm. i grew up on an acreage. if you don’t know the difference, well, a farm has um, animals and combines and grain and stuff. we had a garden and riding mower and dogs and cats. there is a difference. when forced to wander at my auntie’s farm, i have to keep my squeals of horror to myself at the manure, the giant animals that could crush me, the smell of the pig barns. because i’m supposed to be a farm girl. i did have to haul firewood into the house every day after school in winter. i wasn’t allowed to touch the axe though. in summer my brother got to mow the lawn on the riding mower, for cash. i wasn’t allowed to drive it.
i drive a stick shift. i like to mock those who don’t know how, especially dykes. i learned to drive in my mom’s cute little standard buick skylark on the dirt roads. it had a sunroof. it was a great car, ’til i smashed it. i know how to check my oil, in theory. i was forced to learn to change a tire, but i’m not sure i could actually do it by myself. maybe. i pump my own gas. but i sure liked it when my ex used to leap out of the car and insist that she do it for me in the rain, in the wind, in the frigid cold. i take the garbage out. i’m the only one who remembers to do it on the right day. i have tools. okay. not really. i have a ridiculous little girly set of screwdrivers and hammer and nails that my uncle gave me. when i use those tools, i often break something, dent the wall, or hurt myself.
i like standing barefoot in the dirt. standing in the moist verdant dirt of my grandma’s garden is one of my most powerful memories (and i still like to do it every summer if i can). i used to love building callouses on my feet so i could run on the gravel and the rocks. now i get callouses and try desperately to file them off to make my bare feet pretty again.
truth is my mom would make a much better lesbian than i. she knows how to make/build/fix anything. she can put in flooring, tile, paint, wire, plumb, climb on the roof to stuff a hole to keep the squirrel out, build a bench, landscape a yard, build a treehouse, climb in the crawl space to fix the pipes, … need i go on? it’s only because of her i know how to do anything butch. and it’s because of me that i’m not very good at any of it. cuz i’m me. and i’m femme.
2 comments June 25, 2010
the fucking beauty myth
i found this article in Xtra! quite intriguing. this quote here is what got me…
“[being femme] forces us to confront our dismissive, anti-feminine assumptions on a moment-to-moment basis: if she’s showing cleavage, she’s not a feminist; if she shaves, she’s not political; if she’s pretty, she’s unintelligent; if she’s fat, she can’t be sexy; if she’s sexy, she can’t be taken seriously.
Practising femme is taking direct action against the patriarchy.” (thanks Luna Allison)
the reason this got me is because it reminded me of way back when. oh. back when i was so young and i read The fucking Beauty Myth. fucking naomi wolf screwed with my head big time. i didn’t shave for almost a year. i threw away my sparse little make up collection. i stuck ever more consistently to my uniform of jeans and t-shirt. i got into arguments with boys who thought my hairy legs were “gross.”
now don’t get me wrong. i don’t blame naomi. she’s absolutely right that women are held up to impossible “ideals” of beauty and that our society places some demand on women to conform to these ideals. i was so offended by the notion of being expected to live up to an impossible standard that i rebelled in the most basic way – do the opposite! i wanted to take action against the patriarchy! but after a while i started to come back to myself. i realized i was happier with smooth legs. with the option of wearing mascara if i wanted to. with feeling pretty in my own particular way.
it’s the demand – the expectation – that women participate in the typical beauty rituals that is offensive (well, that’s one of the things that’s offensive). and it’s appearing to meet that expectation that brings femmes into this nowhere land of not being recognized for who they are. but what’s great is, we have choices. we can choose to wear a dress, show cleavage, wear make up and fancy earrings and high heels if we want to – or not. we can cherry pick what we like and want of these rituals and be feminine and feminist at once. and what’s even more great? by sleeping with hot, sexy, butch women, we’re still taking action against the patriarchy!
Add a comment June 13, 2010
I’m not June Cleaver.
Being a femme is a tricky business you know. I want someone, a butch, to take care of me. To make me feel loved and cherished. To make me feel safe and secure. This doesn’t mean I’m a helpless waif. I just want those things. Even if underneath it all, I know I need to make myself feel safe and secure, grow the confidence within to know that I’m loved and cherished or at least lovable, I still want a lover whose actions show that she wants to give me those things. Is that how it’s supposed to work? I can do it myself, but would rather not?
> Am I a throwback? An anachronism? Because I want to be cared for in this way? Do I want to be a 50s wife? I mean, when you look at the facts from one perspective, maybe! I want to stay home with and have more children. I want a partner to support me while I do this. I want a partner who is strong and capable and wants to provide like that. On the other hand, I don’t want to simply stand in the shadow of that partner, serving her martinis and smiling pretty through political discussions. I have a voice, opinions and goals. It’s just that my goals would work so much better if I didn’t have a M-F job. I have a business that I could make succeed if I had the support and the freedom to pursue it like I want to. And to be frank, I have a thousand straight friends who are smart, confident, strong women who stay home with their kids and their husbands provide and I don’t hear a lot of people accusing them of being anachronistic because of their choices. And I know one wonderful stay at home dad who does all the childcare and is totally supported by his wife. I don’t hear a lot of criticism toward him – more like applause. Which he totally deserves because he is a great stay at home parent. Like so many of my great, great, stay at home mom friends. I really miss being one. I was fucking great at it. That’s the funny thing. I never imagined, before kids, that I would want to be a sahm. I never thought the thing I’d be most proud of, the thing I’d find out I was best at? Was being a mom. Unexpected. I never expected to want to stay home, barefoot and pregnant. But damn! Do I want it. I told you. Being a femme is a tricky business. For me anyway.
Add a comment June 9, 2010
i'm a tiny bit femme 