Sipping a whiskey and ginger and listening to Frank Sinatra while the turkey finishes cooking is perfect. Happy Turkey Day y’all!
This was my answer as a queer femme:
I actually think I present more femininely because I want there to be a visibility for femmes in the LGBTQA community. I love being a woman and I love wearing things that really scream, “I am a woman and I know how to handle my shit!” Andrea Gibson actually shared a poem with me and later in our workshop written about femmes and it really rang true to me. One line was something along the lines of, “Femme means knowing what you are doing” and I think it is so true. I know I am femme and I know that it a quintessential part of who I am. I swear I came out of the womb with a lipstick in my hand! There is often a lot of backlash for super femme women because we don’t look gay enough. I think it’s really hard sometimes because I know I feel like I get excluded because of my identity and everything that goes with passing heterosexual privilege and such but there is also a lot of that privilege for homosexual or queer men who look heterosexual. Every single person in our community is oppressed but they are still opened into the community without question. I am questioned constantly and it can be really discouraging sometimes. I always have to prove my “queerness” or my “gayness” and sometimes it just so frustrating. I don’t want to have to prove myself to people in a community that I am a part of, love with all my heart, and constantly fight for every second of the day. Even though this happens so often it hurts, I continue to fight for them and myself so one day people won’t have to ask me. I can just be myself and if my partner is a woman or a man or someone in between it won’t matter.
I’m the happiest lady.
Sometimes in London I would leave work early and just wander. I found little places to go and have coffee or just walk up and down the river. I watched tourists on the Eye and couples in restaurants.
I made stories up for men on the tube and envied women’s sensible but incredibly stylish winter coats. I crossed little back streets and took pictures of graffiti murals. I bought fancy cheeses and macaroons in side markets. When can I buy £5 daisies from Sainbury’s to cheer up my day?
I once walked straight to the side of the river and decided it was time to cut all my hair off. Then I promptly walked into a bookstore and bought £25 in football books to console myself for making such a life altering decision.
I miss walking through Borough Market on Saturdays. I want to wake up to early morning quiet on Holloway. I want to stand in line for 20 minutes for a Borris bike in Hyde Park on the first day the sun is out for longer than 20 minutes. I miss huddling by the Camden tube station hoping they will open a few minutes early so I won’t be stuck standing in Sunday shopping rush hour.
I want a gyro from the one stand I always went to while buying rave gear from Cyber Dog. A Strongbow from The Coronet while surrounded by old men in older sweaters would fill my soul right now. I want the heat of Primark on a Friday afternoon to light my body on fire.
When will I stumble out of Shoreditch at 7 am with the people I love the most after a 6 hour rave again? How will I just hop on the train and end up on the rocky beach of Brighton, ready for the sea to take me tomorrow? When will I live in Harrod’s for what feels like a lifetime?
I miss the afternoons I would take off work a choose a new place to explore. I need the London chill in my bones. I want to talk about sport, beer and shows at the National. I want to eat Pret on Thursdays and always get stuck at Holloway on game days. I have never wanted fish and chips so badly.
I miss my London home.
Gabriel Gadfly (via perfect)