Your Comment

Dear Butch,

You and I had an interesting interaction this week at a local coffee shop.

I was there before work, reading “Stone Butch Blues” for the twentieth time and drinking a hazelnut soy latte.  I normally don’t read in coffee shops at 6:30 in the morning, but this particular day I woke up from work stress at 4:00 am and couldn’t fall back to sleep.  I was having a pretty bad week at work and thought if I couldn’t sleep I would try to find another way to relax.  And in the spirit of trying to feel better about my life, I wore my favorite skirt.  I don’t normally wear skirts to work due to the active nature of my job, but this skirt in particular makes me feel fantastic.  It is a black and white houndstooth print with sailor patterned pockets.  It is pencil cut and hugs my ass.  I paired it with a black v-neck (almost too deep for work) sweater, grey tights, and black high healed Mary Janes.  My outfit was going to get me through a budget meeting, a huge editing project deadline, and a luncheon.  I knew I was looking smashing and was feeling ready to conquer my day when you walked into my world.

I don’t really remember much about you.  I know that you were wearing a sweatshirt from the local feminist college.  I recall thinking your haircut was identical to Shanes in season three of the “L Word”.  You were hipster like and smelled of Old Spice.  But, what I remember very clearly is wondering why you were staring at me.  I often get recognized from a former job I had working with youth, but the look on your face didn’t read “Hey, I know you from this really awesome place and I am so excited to see you again!”.  You walked past me twice, which was odd since I was in a corner by myself and there were plenty of open seats.  On the third walk by you stopped and I looked up, you said “It is sad when lesbians have to hide their sexualities behind their skirts.”  I replied, “Pardon me?”  You repeated yourself “I said, I think it is sad when lesbians have to hide their sexualities behind their skirts.  I feel really sorry for you.”  And then you walked out of my world.

I should of had a comeback.  I should have told you that my skirt was only hiding pink lacy panties I was wearing for my other half for our date after work.  Or that a woman wearing a skirt can also be a lesbian.  Or that you should be cautious when offending an older femme queer woman with heels on.  But, I just said nothing.  I was so shocked by how you found the nerve to approach a perfect stranger and make such an outlandish comment.

I hope someday you learn to respect femmes.  I hope you realize that one can be gay and wear an item of clothing not made by Carhartt.  I hope you know that I love that skirt, it makes me feel super fucking femme and that is how I express my (really fucking queer) sexuality.

Love,

Femme

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10 thoughts on “Your Comment

  1. Bloody hipster lesbians who spout faux feminism but don’t understand the true meaning of the words. I have encountered many people who say that the butch/femme looks are this and that, but never from people who actually live it. We know that it takes a shed load more confidence and belief in yourself to be butch or femme than it does to just be a sheep and copy the crowds of fashionistas in whatever ‘style’ lesbians currently have. Maybe she was a real life troll. Did you see any goats on her bridge?

  2. Oh dear…as a femme I once had a butch girl come up to me in a gar bar and sneer at me that if it was up to her, bisexuals, men or stupid little straights wouldn’t be allowed in. Lovely! :p

  3. *Femme twitch*
    I can understand being so in shock that you said nothing, but damn I would have gone off….:

    Listen here, you ignorant fuck: the way I look disturbed you that much that you just had to speak on it? Okay, let me tell something to you:

    You think it’s sad when lesbians have to hide their sexualities behind their skirts? You know what I think is sad? When some ignorant stranger decides they’re just so important and so disturbed by how I choose to look that they can’t see past their own asshole. Please, on your head’s way from removing itself out of your ass, be sure to remove your foot from your mouth. Be sure to *up down her sweater* put that education to use and learn something about butch and femme. And be sure to know that your despicable need to police the bodies of others and the validity of their sexuality and identity is far more piteous. I hope you learn to pull yourself out of that cage and figure out how you want to be, regardless of what others feel about it. Really, you should try it, you might learn something. Also, feel lucky that this drink is too hot to throw on you.

    Just something for the possible future, I hope she never sees you again, strictly for her sake.

    Silver lining: she was able to recognize you as gay- despite not recognizing a femme (or the validity of being a femme).

    And I wouldn’t even call her a butch (given her lack of recognition), granted I understand that this is the set up of your blog. It would be “Dear ignorant baby dyke,”…

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