Knitting is not just for femmes and girls! Anyone can be a knitter, all you have to be is willing to try, humble enough to be taught, and not worried about making mistakes. Get your needles ready, and let's go change the world, one scarf at a time!

Step One: Meet a Knitter: This may be the hardest step, but it is the a crucial one, because that person will be your tour guide into the awesome world of knitting. As I mentioned previously, knitting is a social art that almost requires the presence of other people. It's like drinking alcohol - you should never do it alone! I've tried and tried to learn to crochet by reading a book, or listening to someone explain the process, and that didn't work at all. Unless you are fabulously amazing (and you very well may be), you will need the help of a real live person.

Step Two: Watch Your Knitter: I found that being able to see a real live person knitting helped me figure it out once the needles were in my hands. Watch your knitter as they show you how to make a knit stitch in slow motion. Ask them to pause, rewind, or fast-forward as you start to see where the fingers, needles, and yarn are going. You might need to repeat Step Two after you get started on Step Three, and don't feel bad about it, either! You're learning!

Step Three: Try it Yourself: Next, it is important to try it out for yourself. You're not going to get it right the first time, and you might even need your knitter to speak the instructions to you as you are moving the instruments (this was a big help to me). If you find it awkward at first, be aware that there is more than one way to knit, so you can switch to a different method later, after you get used to your knitter's method.

Step Four: Find a Knitting Circle: You should have no trouble finding one, and even if it is full of old ladies, give it a fair try of one or two meetings. Knitting (or crocheting) with other people is actually the best part of being able to participate in this craft! Your knitter from Step One should know. If they were willing and excited to teach you, that person is called a knitting evangelist! Even if there is no knitting circle to begin with, that person will teach a bunch of people knit, and before you know it, you'll be sipping, stitching, and bitching together! Also, I'd say teaching people to knit is feminist activism.

Step Five: Get Good Needles and Yarn: In search of good needles, look no further than your local yarn shop. You can google "knitting supplies in [your town]" and even if you live somewhere rural, I would imagine there will always be someone who is passionate enough about fiber arts to have a store not too far away. I put this part at the end of your tutorial because if you find that you don't like it as much as you thought, you haven't yet wasted any money on it. If you truly cannot find a good needle store, you can go to http://www.knitting-warehouse.com/ and get yarns, needles, and pretty much anything you need! I have definitely enjoyed having Addi Turbo's, if you can afford them, you'll be doing yourself a favor. As much as you may be tempted to march yourself over to Wal-Mart, please be very selective about the type of yarn/needles that you buy! Red Heart is nobody's favorite yarn, and Boye needles/hooks are very awkward to work with. I have found that the evil place (Wal-Mart) carries Simply Soft Eco by Caron yarns is actually very soft, and includes 20% post consumer recycled material so you're making something with your hands, and hopefully doing something good for the environment at the same time!

Are you ready to start a revolution with yarn and sticks? I am!

Technorati Tags: art, Craft, feminist activism

I came home today to the news that GLASS (Gay and Lesbian Adolescent Social Services) located in LA has filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy.  The situation is obviously complex, and it sounds like there are different plans in place which I’m not qualified or interested in delving into, what struck a chord for me was what it is like for the youth who are using those services, who need the programs and support that GLASS provides for their very survival.  One of the contributors to my anthology is a youth who utilizes GLASS services, and when I heard the news of their potential closing she was the only person I was thinking of.

It’s been a week for a lot of thought about these issues as the February 12th marked the one-year anniversary of the tragic and brutal death of Lawrence King.  Last year when I spoke at a GLSEN Day of Silence Rally dedicated to Lawrence’s memory I spoke of how Lawrence King was part of what I consider to be my ‘kicked out family’ those LGBTQ folks contributors to my anthology or otherwise who have had the experience of leaving home as teenagers because of their gender and/or sexuality. One of the things not well known about the case is that Lawrence was living in a group home when an eight grader senselessly ended a beautiful life. Lawrence was removed from the home because of physical abuse, and yet I watched community members (mostly unknowing) send cards of condolences to the ‘family.’  This year’s anniversary was punctuated by Lawrence’s parents filing a homophobic/transphobic lawsuit against the school for failure to enforce the dresscode. People who know me are familiar with the fact that one of the main things I am passionate about, and a central theme that the vast majority of my work is focused on the epidemic of homeless LGBTQ youth. It’s an issue that I talk a lot about both privately and professionally, but to me it’s not just an *issue * that I’m passionate about, it’s my community, and my history.

I’m guessing that by now some of you are wondering what this has to do with being femme and why I’m blogging about this here at The Femme’s Guide. In general I keep a lot of my work with my anthology and other things connected to the epidemic of queer youth homelessness separate from my femme blogging life, but for me the two issues are very much interrelated. When I was kicked out as a teenager I was not femme identified, at that point I was about as far from femme as one could get and trying desperately to be tough and butch.  I was terrified of femininity, especially my own.
Now as an adult, and a femme when I talk about my work with homeless queer youth, or my anthology of current and former homeless LGBTQ youth, people look at me funny. I wear buttons on my favorite sweatshirt that proclaim that “40% of the homeless youth in the United States identify as LGBTQ” and people often stop to read it but never connect me with those sorts of statistics.  This past summer I was spending a lot of time at a theatre where my partner’s solo show was up at and someone asked me why I got interested in teen homelessness.

It was a completely innocent question, but one that still stung.  As a femme I don’t fit the ‘look’ of a queer person who was beaten and forced to leave home. And it’s not just about gender it’s about race, and current class, and a million other things but sometimes those little traces of internalized femmephobia keep me thinking about  * if *  I only looked * more * gay/queer people would assume that these were *my * people that I’m referencing about when I’m lecturing or organizing. I don’t really know what the point of this blog is other than the situation with GLASS and the anniversary of Lawrence’s death, and a week ago today being the seven year anniversary of my being kicked out are all things that are active on my mind this week  and they felt important to raise awareness about here as well.

I've been grappling with something over the past few months as I embark on a serious relationship with a woman for the first time. My femininity feels under fire by my own fucked up gender programming. The reality is that it doesn't matter how much Judith Butler and Eve Sedgwick I read. It doesn't matter that I have idols like Tristan Taormino, Lee Harrington, and Bear Bergman. It doesn't matter that I love genderbenders and all level of gender fucking. I have some fucked up assumptions and ideas about sex and gender and sexuality that infect my ability to be as fearless as I want to be.

This is a confession of sorts but also a cry for help. I think about myself in reference to kink and sex and realize that I associate submission and service with being feminine. I associate beauty, weakness, and delicacy with being feminine. And I also realize that I am so terrified of being seen as anything other than feminine that I put up some strange defenses against this.

Case study A: Ariel

Ariel is my gorgeous girlfriend. She is beautiful and petite and has long flowing hair. She moves gracefully on high heels. She also has a powerful job in a male-dominated industry and changes car batteries and asserts herself aggressively in conversations. She looks high femme but has always thought of herself as butch. Still, when I touch her I sometimes feel huge, ham-fisted, rough, and all-together ugly. I know she longs for me and I fail her because I don't know how to be. On the one hand, strapping on a pretty dildo and fucking her for hours sounds like pure bliss but I know that getting to that point will be full of second-guessing myself and my desires and my actions.

Am I being entirely heterosexist in my view of this sexual relationship? Abso-fucking-lutely! Because she is feminine, I feel masculine. (We won't even get into the terrible fact that I associate masculinity [on myself!] with ugliness) I don't want to feel this way. It isn't enlightened, it isn't sex positive. I wouldn't teach it to my students. But it infects my reality and I don't know how to deprogram it.

Case study B: Michael

[Note: This section has been edited for nuance. The lack it previously exhibited, though, is likely symptomatic of my issues with binary thinking.]

Michael is a petite man. We are the same height and I outweigh him significantly. When we first met I didn't think the relationship would work because of this. I thought I would feel huge and be self-conscious and afraid. So I submitted myself to him. He felt like he was capable of being in charge and I let him be. Even if I couldn't be delicate and small by comparison physically, I knew I could shrink myself mentally. It works out well that he has discovered enjoyment of beating me until I cry, pulling my hair, grabbing my throat. (Again we won't get into how fucked up it is that my way of feeling feminine involves simulated victimization) Even when I am initiating sex with him, it feels like an act of service and devotion. He often gives me feedback on how to touch and where and when. I siddle up to him and slither a limb around his body. I kiss gently. The touches are a seduction and they are a worship and only in my most wanton and least self-conscious moments do I allow myself to be aggressive and take up space.

Taking up space

I haven't really defined what this means to me just yet. You may have guessed some of it by now, though. I think of it in terms of physical space - my body is larger and I attempt to diminish that regularly. I also think of it terms of political space - my voice should be smaller, my needs should be less important, my desires should be locked away.

This might seem ridiculous to some of you that have met me or read this blog. Of course I take up space in terms of talking about sex. Here I am now with this presence on the internet. Blabbing, opining, discussing in detail, issuing edicts and judgments and ideas. But some of that strength leaves me when I'm making love to some of the people I adore most in the world.

I know that every relationship goes through growing pains and these are no exception, but this issue feels bigger and scarier and more about me being fucked in the head than any I have run into before. So, dear reader, tell me what you think. How do I get my theory to line up with my practice? How do I deschool myself of gender? How do I embrace femininity in a way that doesn't make me need to masculinize others? How have you done it or how do you wish you could?

Technorati Tags: call for help, gender

February 19th at 7pm, Hysteria brings you Shanna Katz aka Essin’ Em. Shanna will be presenting Basics of Poly and Relationship Mapping workshop. This workshop is primarily a lecture and discussion on the ideas of polyamory, open-relationships, non-monogamous relationships, etc. In addition to talking about what poly is (and what it can and does mean to different people), we’ll go over the basic types of relationships that people have (primary, secondary and tertiary) in their lives, how we can map them, patterns to look for, and what we can get out of these maps. We’ll also discuss communication and negotiation with your partners, mediation, and what to do when one or more of you is feeling hurt. Come open minded, and prepared examine your own relationship(s). Workshop is $10.

To register, call (303) 733-3373.

Or show up on the 19th to:

Hysteria

www.hysteriashop.com

114 S. Broadway Denver, CO 80209

Shanna Katz (aka Essin-Em) is a kinky, queer, non-monogamous, feminist, politically active, sex-educator Femme, with a bit of twisted sense of humor. Her sexuality blog “Sexuality Happens” can be found at www.Essin-Em.com. She spends her time pondering sex, sexuality, the gender spectrum, non-traditional relationships, sex toys, erotic writing, queer sexuality, new definitions of feminism and more.

She has a Master’s in Human Sexuality Education, and does work both online and face-to-face, educating people in a variety of ways about a variety of subjects. She has done trainings, workshops and written curricula for numerous universities including SUNY-Purchase, Colorado College and Princeton University, and has presented at the Planned Parenthood Association of Bucks Country (Doylestown, PA), Passional Toys (Philadelphia, PA), Femina Potens (San Francisco, CA) and S.E.X. PhD (Denver, CO). In her free time, she’s a mother to her kitties Kinsey and Kali, and is a roller derby referee for the Denver Rollers Dolls. For more information on Shanna, go to ShannaKatz.com.

Technorati Tags: education, Essin' Em, open relationships, polyamory, relationship mapping, sex education, sex educators, shanna katz, workshops

Cross posted from my blog, the Queer Fat Femme Guide to Life.

Zoe and Tara and I decided to head to Toronto for a crazy Femme adventure and somehow fate landed us each a hottie to have as a date on NYE. Despite our burgeoning Canadian trysts, we had an amazing Femme bonding weekend*. We went to a women's only spa called Body Blitz, lounged in their salt pools, hot tubs and saunas for a few hours for only $35 Canadian! We ate brunch, our favorite meal, every day at a new place. We got to indulge in one of our favorite activities, sexcapade redux on the road trip home, as it is rare that the three of us are getting it simultaneously.

During our trip we plotted out the details of our Golden Girls retirement home. You see, our plan is that we are each others' life partners, and we intend to retire someplace warm (I oppose Florida because humidity is not a friend to my thick tresses) and to seal our bond we are going to adopt a new last name. This last name is an amalgamation of all of our Femme Besties' last names put together, O'LowErlelisshamwinsonsonlee-Murphy. Rolls right off the tongue! We can't wait for the telemarketers to get a hold of that one.

I had a big crush on the Toronto Hottie I hooked up with, who I propositioned for a make-out ahead of time with a clever Facebook message. Rendering me shy is the sure sign that I am monstrously attracted to you, and even though I've known Toronto Hottie for years, I'd never mustered the gumption to flirt with her and thought the Facebook proposition was the surest way to overcome my shyness.

The proposition was very well-received. She was even better, nicer, and more talented than I had thought, and we connected in a way I crossed my fingers might be more than a one night fluke. A couple of sweet text messages on my ride home, and a few dirty Facebook emails the following weekend told me the chemistry was still there. It took a week to muster up the courage to ask her for a phone date. Or rather, a week and Zoe's Consiglierie insistence "JUST TEXT HER AND ASK". Our phone date was the same night, three hours long, I got off the phone and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

There's just so much to talk about and I have a lot of fun even on the phone with her. Since I'm funemployed, I've got a lot of extra time on my hands these days, thus much more traveling flexibility, as I can look for a job using the internet even in another country. Anyway, it didn't take much beyond her first couple jokes of "You should come visit next week" for me to seriously ponder this as a possibility.

I debated this pretty hardcore for the better part of a day. In some ways it seemed very practical--a fact-finding mission. Did we have chemistry beyond the first date? Was she as fabulous as she seemed and was she more than just a friend? Could she make the amazing deviled eggs she promised? Naima answered the practicality for me. "Bevin, the way I see it, there is nothing more sane than traveling for good sex."

I got further support from my friend Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha. "I completely support you traveling to the Dot** for Unicorn Dick."

So I drove my Prius up to Toronto again and had a really great date. I learned a lot about her and had a lot of fun in all the best ways. The sex was still amazing and so was hanging out an watching our favorite movies.

The next few weeks and follow-up visit have had me thinking a lot about Unicorn Dick in the context of the Queer Fat Femme lifestyle. Anyone who has done the dating thing as a Queer Femme knows how hard it is to find someone that embodies the killer combo of personality, looks, chemistry, smarts and timing.

I asked Leah to define Unicorn Dick further, and here's her dispatch:

"Unicorn Dick is lust and sexual skill. It also refers to the almost mythological perfect butch/trans guy cock / love / brain package that we often believe is as rare as a Unicorn Dick. When we find it, we can sometimes go insane, elevate the degree to which which value it above our life and our girls, and try to hide it / protect it / get crazy over it / everything in the world pales next to the Unicorn Dick.

This is unhealthy and is counter to the Femme Shark principle of 'His dick is not gold plated, but you goddamn well are.'"

It's hard to avoid a scarcity mentality when you find something you don't come across very often. As in, you want to absorb as much as possible because you're afraid it won't come around very often. But it's important to remember that if the Unicorn Dick is worth it, s/he is going to realize how crucial your besties are to you and support your priorities. Further, if you're a badass Queer Fat Femme, you can't become any less badass to please someone. In past relationships I usually deferred to the sensibilities of my partner because sometimes I was "too much". I remember Zoe reminding me when I was broken up with my ex, John, how much he held me back. I'm not doing that again.

You can get excited about Unicorn Dick but you can't let your inherent amazingness suffer. Because, ultimately, Unicorn Dick won't hold you up the way your inner strength does or your besties do. Maybe over time, maybe when things develop Unicorn Dick becomes part of your support system--but even then it should be part of it and not everything. I know from losing the man I thought was my forever how crucial it was that I kept my friendships strong. Even when I didn't even have the resources to get up off my kitchen floor while I was crying, I knew I could call someone to be there with me while I fell apart.*** That's what besties are for.

The reason why my Toronto trip was so wonderful wasn't just because I got laid or uncovered Unicorn Dick like a lusty archeological dig, it was because I was having such an amazing time with my closest friends. And you can't let years of friendship suffer because you find something shiny.

While I remain very excited about this Unicorn Dick, I'm still letting things unfold and in a data gathering phase. I enjoy the time we spend together, am appreciative of our connection and the chance to learn more about her and have great sex when we can make time for one another. Leah calls this attitude a "Zen Buddhist slut move". But what I'm really grateful for right now is the support of friends like Zoe. Knowing I have been having a really horrific unemployment/housing situation right now, Zoe sent me the following love letter.

"dear Bevin [a femme love letter]

sometime around spring 2002 i went to see this philly drag troupe perform and watched wistfully as all these hot [thin] femmes performed on stage alongside the kings. and i so wished to be one of them but i knew that as a fat girl, i wasn't good enough to do so. and then you came out and you unhinged my world in ... Read Morethe best of ways...

7 years later you are one of the best BFFs a girl could ask for. not only did you help me get on that stage myself (and so many wonderful, crazy, lascivious, hilarious adventures ensured), but you have been there for me through the good, the bad and the downright fucked up, steadfast in your love and loyalty.

over the past 7 years i've watched you grow and change and unfold unto the fucking dynamo badass force of glitter, muppety smiles, cheer, snark, wit, glamor, smarts, performance art, social hub and social change that you are. and you did so even through serious strife and hard times. i am so fucking proud of you.

one of the things that so amazes me about you is not only your ability to stay strong and positive and to focus on your joy in the midst of bullshit, but to be able to ask for help and reach out when times are hard and when you need support.

and so i just want to remind you, openly and here on facebook and for posterity, that i will always be there for you, by your side, whether it's on stage in matchy-matchy glittery outfits, holding your hand through hard times, or being next to you on the couch, cuddled up next to you and laughing while you torture me by playing Bob Seger songs on repeat.

you are an inspiration and you are my heart.

golden girls forever.
xoxoxoxoxo,
Z"

It is my wish for all Queer Fat Femmes that they find the kind of community, love and support I've found with my QFF besties. It's really the most special, magical thing you'll ever find--even more magical than Unicorn Dick.

*We were having such a great time Anna hopped a $70 flight from NYC to join us. She did not hook up on NYE but is pretty much awash in pussy in her new social circle in Portland, though technically still single and looking for dates.

**Why do people call Toronto "T Dot"?

***This happened to me again recently, for reasons not related to romance.

Technorati Tags: Bevin Branlandingham, butch/femme, butches, CommUNITY, dating, fat, fatshion, femme besties, femme sharks, femmes, friends, queer, queer fat femmes, sex, transgender, unicorn dick

i've been thinking a lot lately about the way that femmes are so often defined and recognized by proximity to their relationship to a “more visible” partner or date.  now, this is not new: we femmes spend a lot of time talking about invisibility, how to be and show off femme without a partner who "outs" us, what it means to “pass” when you don’t want to, how femme is not the "opposite of butch" but a thing all of it's glorious own.
but lately i've been thinking about it even more and in a more complicated circumstance than what i'm personally accustomed to: my current partner is a straight, 'factory direct' man, and we live in a place where queer folks are very, very, very under represented.

now, negotiating my femme self, and my queer self, in this situation is something that has been difficult in ways that are at times crushing and at times very freeing.  certainly not having a community present makes things more difficult because there are very few places i feel that i am accepted and recognized as a queer femme.  however, more than this, i have found that the community i *do* have has a really hard time negotiating my relationship and my identity, to the point of people (some I know, some I don’t) questioning my queer femme identity.

now from some people i expected this.  i've been out as queer to my family since i was 16 and this is the first straight person i've ever dated (of any gender).
my grandparents: so happy! (he's catholic, but you know, no one's perfect).
my parents: while not as openly jubilant, it was the first time anyone i've dated has been invited to spend holidays with us.  i don't think they've made such an effort to like someone i'm dating since... well, ever.  i always thought they'd be glad i'd never get pregnant on accident (like they did) but apparently birth control and potential abortions are far less scary than diesel dykes.

but from some people in my community in which queer has always meant "do it loud and with glitter" i have found a certain amount of resistance.
ok, not resistance.  outright non-acceptance of both me and my partner.  I’m not sure if it’s because my partner is straight, if it’s because he doesn’t speak fluent English, if it’s because we live so far away that daily or even weekly familiarity with our relationship isn’t possible, or if it’s simply because there’s no gossip like queer femme actually  (gasp) dating a straight guy.  maybe it’s all of this or maybe it’s none.  I’m honestly not sure.

i do know i should have seen this coming.  i have seen bisexual folks treated like the bastard at a family reunion enough times to know that, for some in the big gay rainbow, anything resembling or approaching bi = traitor, confused, trying-to-pass, newly out, etc.  ironically, all things i have heard said about femmes (in general) as well.  but i can't speak to a bi-femme experience, i only realise now what a lot more i've got to learn as a queer femme experiencing what i'm sure is only small slice of bi-hating-heaven.  not only because of the relationship i'm in myself, but also in general: in the past i was *so* sure i would never date a person that would call my queerness into question that i think i allowed myself to largely pay lip service (instead of real, concentrated thought and respect) to the experiences i heard bi folks talking about.

the frailties of youth.  maybe i thought, well, i'm not bi, i'm queer, and i've always said love comes from where it comes.  i was, i admit, thinking that might be more in the way of me falling for a femme than a straight man, but what can you do?  the fact is, when someone lights you up and makes you feel like your heart can grow wings and trail fairy dust, you don't ignore that (or i don't, anyway).  likely it was my own way of trying to protect myself, too, from a lot of bi-phobia that is always around.  i admit i was never really an outspoken defender of bi-femmes in the past, and that is something i regret and have changed.

now, i said that in reference to bi-femmes and this is where i get to my real point.  i have known a few butches and many trans men who admit to being bisexual or queer in a way that encompasses straight folks as well.  moreover, in conversations about theoretical situations i have heard more than one person, more than one femme, state unabashedly that a butch and a straight man would always be a queer relationship, because the butch would (visibly?) queer it.  a trans guy dating a straight girl, these same people say, could be queer if the trans guy was queer, or straight if he's straight id-ed too.  maybe people assume that a straight man dating a butch person or a trans masculine person would HAVE to be a more accepting straight person to be--what?  attracted in the first place?  i'm not sure, but i know there is a key in what we assume about the appearance and appeal of femmes, and the resulting interaction with the straight world.

...which leads me to question where any of that leaves a femme (any femme) who is in a relationship with a straight person.  if a butch or a trans man automatically queers a relationship, why are femmes so easily considered straight-acting?  why is it always implied that, because we are femme, we are also clearly not out in our relationships and to the world, no matter who our partner is? moreover, isn't that playing into the same old bullshit that a lot of femmes get about trying to pass, not 'looking' queer or gay or lesbian or... enough?  yes, there is something to be said for the politics of “passing”, even when it is unintentional.  but what about how we act?  is a “visibly queer” person inherently more likely to be out in their words and actions?  or is appearance the full sum of our parts? to assume that my femme-ness makes me likely to cheerfully slide into a nice straight role in nice, straight relationship is both hysterical and wildly misguided, and I know I’m not the only femme that’s true of.

on the other end of the spectrum, if a femme is made "straight" in a relationship with a straight man, shouldn't the same be true if anyone, femme/butch/trans/none-or-all-of-the-above dates a straight person? i think it is fair to say that a large majority of the butches and trans-masculine people i know have messed around with straight women.  so, if a straight man makes me and my relationship 'straight', shouldn't a straight person do the same to those who date them, of whatever gender?  is that the power of straight folks, that they magically convert whoever dates them into the same thing?

of course not.

and believing that is, in reality, policing someone else’s identity by making it dependent on the opinion of others.  ever been told “it’s just a phase” or “you haven’t met the right ____ yet”?
yeah, exactly.

moreover it's unfair to say that anyone dating a straight person in a gender combination that is normally considered a heterosexual relationship is therefore IN a heterosexual relationship.  in my opinion, if one person identifies as queer (or bi or lesbian or gay or... etc), the relationship is not straight.  maybe it's not queer either, but it's sure as hell not fair for anyone outside of the relationship to decide either way.

in the end, i'm not even sure what the end is.  bi-phobia, phobia of lgbq (etc.) people dating straight people, fear of losing community, fear in general is rampant in our communities (some more than others).  and, while i have few answers or solutions, i think what it comes down to from my femme perspective is this: femmes are constantly fighting against being defined, valued, recognized, honored or ignored based on who they are with. i would think, because of that, femmes should be able to recognize that of the many femme identities and possibilities that exist, none of us should be making rigid definitions based on who we date.  ideally, we should be honoring femme identities, and trying to understand rather than judge from fear.

after all, maybe you'll never date a straight man, or maybe you'll fall in love with one tomorrow.  maybe you'll wake up one day and realise your partner has become one, maybe you'll wake up one day and realise you've become one.  maybe you date straight women who refuse to be out about your relationship, maybe you've only ever dated lesbian nation, lambda-earring-wearing, separatist-community-living, womyn-lovin-womyn.  you still get to define your own identity, you still decide what femme means to you, how you live it and how you love it.  and no relationship can take that away, or change you just out of the capricious behavior of relationships.

femme, to me, has always meant freedom.  and that means free to have your femme identity recognized, honored and upheld, even if you reinvent it every day.  femme is who we are, completely ourselves, and nothing less.

Technorati Tags: bisexual, femme identity, queer

We have a new site layout here on The Femme's Guide which I'm actually pretty excited about! It's similar to the previous layout while also being different enough to be a change.

The image to the left (if you're reading this on the site itself) changes when the page is refreshed. Currently there are six different images rotating, and I want more. These images are ones that I've found which in some way embody femme to me. Since femme is such a varied and personal identity I'm asking for your help in adding further images.

The only restrictions on the images is that they either have to be your own or under a Creative Commons License or otherwise legal to be used in the layout.

Under each image I have included the link to the photographer as well as Creative Commons information. If your image does not include information about where you got it I will not be able to use it.

The images also must be relatively safe for work. While we do talk about sex and sexuality on the site and occasionally (though rarely) have NSFW images I'd like to keep the layout images as close to safe for work as possible, though that idea differs for different people. Basically I don't want to see nipples, genitals, etc. clothed is acceptable.

Other than that, anything that represents femme to you is acceptable!

Send your image to femmesguide AT gmail DOT com with the following information:

Who is the photographer/owner of this image?
Is there a URL I can credit the image to (your blog/portfolio/etc. if yours, the page on flickr or elsewhere where the image can be found, etc.)?
Is this image available under a Creative Commons License?

I will email you when your image is live on the site!

Technorati Tags: femme, femmes, identity, images, layout, site specific

By now, most of you have read about, or at least heard about my concept of the Femme Spiral, mostly written about here.

It is visibility. It is validation. It is physical proof of belong to such a strong and powerful group of women, queers, dykes, and more.

It's bigger than I had planned on, but I'm glad. My first tattoo (the moon, stars and tear drop on my left shoulder) is the one tattoo I wish I'd done bigger...but I have no regrets on the others. I don't want any of them smaller. My mother took one look at it and said "I thought you said you could cover it with a large watch!" That had been the plan...but the artist drew in onto my wrist freehand, and as it wound into this, it was perfect.

Like my other tattoos, people let their own ideas, experiences, and more color what they see. My first inital starts with an S (which is funny when people call me Ess'), and some have asked me if that's what it is. Others have asked me if it's a crest of sorts. I keep waiting for someone to ask if I have a wrought iron fetish, as the curves in this are similar to the wrought iron at the base of my people embracing on my back.

It's not any of those. It's a mark that I am Femme.

Now, granted, as many people have pointed out, it's not going to work as intended (to be a slightly secret "ps, I'm a queer Femme" sign) unless other people get it, and unless people learn about it, and know about it. I have explained it to countless people, and at least in Denver, so few queer, lesbian, etc people even know about the blue stars, so this spiral may take a bit. That's ok. Movements start somewhere...and while infinitely small to me, this IS a movement.

Some people tattoo latin quotes on them, things they live by. Others tattoo important dates. Clubs, gangs, matching tattoos between friends and lovers, etc. I've seen more astrological signs than I can count. I know absolutely shit about astrological signs (other than that I am apparently not supposed to be with Aries...and that I've dated two of them)...so getting a Sagitarrius symbol on my body would be silly. I don't really identify with that. But I DO identify with Femme. This is who I am. While I didn't always know the term for it, I have always been a Femme, despite not always in the stereotypical definition of what that means.

So behold my newest tattoo, my Femme Spiral. You know, maybe no one else will ever get one...and that's ok too. I do this for me, for my identify. Because just as I am connected with my father every time someone asks me about the flying pig on my back, and I am able to tell them about what a wonderful person my father was, now every time someone asks me about the spiral on my wrist, I will be able to tell them about me, my identity, and who I am.

And that, my dear readers, is all.

Essin' Em

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Sometimes we need to nurture, comfort and care for ourselves if we hope to serve the world to our fullest.  A lot of femmes I meet seem to fogret this fact- we are the lover, parents, warriors and poets upon whom Atlas' load is balanced.  Without us the world would crumble and fall, without us we have this feeling the turning would stop and gravity would let everything we care about fly away into the ether.

One of my comfort foods is what I have deemed Comfort Garlic Toast.  I have made variatons of it since I was a child.  Powdered garlic, shredded cheddar and cheap bread were all it took for my mother to make me smile on a day someone had been mean to me or when I'd not aced a test.  But I've grown up and the idea of a pool of cheddar grease leaves me wanting.  This is my version of this treat and sometimes side dish to italian, french, or american cuisine... with a bit of grown up and a lot of childhood memory.

Ingredients needed for this recipe:

- 3/4 stick of butter (or an equivalant of margerine for my femme allies on a diet)

-5 cloves of garlic

-Italian spice blend (there are tons of great options out there)

-A few slices of wheat bread (or some other healthy-ish bread... the more texture the better in my opinion)

-12 minutes (20 for me, see below)

-Shredded Asiago Cheese (I get mine at Fresh&Easy in a round tub and keep in my fridge to use as a condiment; Parmesean, Romano, or other hard cheeses will also work, and for the flavor adventurous, you can use a blue crumble cheese or feta but use less garlic in my opinion).

-Cutting board

-Paring knife (this all black one was a recent gift from my mother as part of my housewarming package)

-A happy thought somewhere in your heart

Pour yourself something to drink that makes you smile.  I chose to make mint drinking chocolate using nonfat milk, and my lips, tongue and belly was delighted.

Remove butter from the fridge, and cut it into cubes, tossing it into a microwavable coffee mug.  Mine matched the one I was drinking choclate from, another thing to make me smile   Brek it up with a butter knife a bit, venting agression stored in your muscles, then set it in the microwave.  Hit the "Express" button twice, totalling 1 minute on 80% or so.  Check consistency.  Can you push the butter around without it being runny?  Perfect.  If your microwave runs hot, then do 30 seconds, check, etc.

Once the butter is pliable, grab the garlic and do not despair on how to peel it.  Schuck off the obvious dead stuff that you see in the top right of this image- the part where the tendrils and roots ran into the ground.  This was once a flowering plant, and you are eating its bulb. By consuming bulbs we are absorbing the potential to be flowering beings ourselves, harnessing our ability to grow by spreading roots between our friends and loved ones, and reading towards the skies to show our potential.  We become grounded in the bulb inside us, and for this we celebrate.  So pull off the tendril sction with your thumb, having the individual cloves fall away- or cheat!  Take the paring knife and just cut it off!  That will remove the hard section from the bottom part of each clove, and take some of the skin away with it.  Instead of fiddling with each piece, you can expose their naked pearls in one speed-strip.

Look at how cute they are as bottomless.  Bottomless and ready to be consumed, or bottomless potential... either way.  Both are very sexy.

Now pick up a clove, and either slide the tip of the paring knifein the space between the dead skin and the pearly white beneath- or if you are rocking long nails, that is even better.  Slide in slowly, then twist- the skin pops away... about half the time.  To gaurantee it, use a meat tenderizer to help separate the skin, but if you are lazy, just try again on the other side.

You now have naked pearls of garlic, and your kitchen is smelling of your endeavors.  Remember the last time you had a good date at an italian restraunt.  Remember the taste of marinara or alfredo sauce.  Remeber the love that goes into hand-pressing olive oil, and the love you are pouring into your own creation.  Now to mince! Start by lining up each clove one after another and slice them thin.  Do all of them.  By turning it into a repetitive motion you save time and are more likely to create something consistent.

Look down and *look*.  Snowflakes each.  You can stop here if you like huge chunks of garlic, but most folks prefer smaller pieces.  ow we go from slicing to mincing.  Put all of the sliced garlic in a pile and begin doing downward pressure strokes with the whole knife at one time.  One hand is on the handle, and the thumb and index finger on your other hand are holding the tip.  Lift together, push down together.  Note the line created.  Repeat.  Over and over and over again.  Every 10-20 strokes, wipe off the blade, pile it all back up, rotate the cutting board one quarter, and do it again.  Keep repeating until you are happy or have totally tranced out and snap back when the song on the iPod changes.

Add minced garlic to the coffee cup of butter.  Mix with the butter knife.  Knock over your beverage.  (Optional).  Curse yourself loudly at having forgotten it was there and reach for kitchen towels to start mopping thedrinking choclate off of your foot, the floor, the counter, the cutting board.  Throw it all in the sink and be annoyed for a moment until you realize it is an opportunity for self-compassion.  Shit happens.  Dishes are washable, kitchen towels cleanable, and there are worse things for your floor to smell like.  Fess up to yourself that you were daydreaming about the guy you played with last night who was really hot who you'd had a minor crush on for years.  Shake head in amusement and move on.

Add two large pinches of shredded cheese to the mix.  Blend.  Close tub quickly for fear of dumping it over too.  Open up mixed italian seasoning, turn it over the coffee cup, and pat it 6 or 7 times like it was being lightly spanked.  Blend.  If it doesn't look like enough of either, add more to your taste, but this is usually about right.  Set seasoning down to put lid on it an note that the top looks like a flower, a reoccuring universal theme from this toast lesson, and meditate on it.

Blend one last time and the start buttering toast with the mixture you have created.  Not too much, but enough to cover the whole piece of whole wheat.  Note the connection between whole piece and whole wheat, and reflect on how whole you are being in your life.

Turn on your oven to Broil (and Broil on the other dial- make sure it says so on both lest your stove get confused and look at you funny).  Set the buttered bread on the rack not on the very top rack slot possible but one down from there.  Push the rack in and laugh about the word "Rack".  Close door to oven 75% but not all the way.   Wait 2 minutes and peek because you're nosy.  Shake head at dishes and decide to do them a bit later.  Come back a minute or so later.  Remove when it looks perfet to you.

Put on a plate.  Serve.  Love yourself.  Sit down and enjoy.  Put the leftovers in a tupperwre and store in the fridge for easy comfort a few days from now.  Feel free to double the batch or triple it for speed comfort for the coming weeks

If you are not craving garlic, consider replacing the garlic with 1/3 of a tart apple (Granny Smith works well) or pear, the cheese with shredded coconut, and the italian seasonings with cinnamon-sugar.  Its a really great dessert for folks on a budget.

Enjoy the Alchemy.  May the Philosopher Stone of your life unfold before you, and may you enjoy the journey, and the matching flaatware, along the way!

Technorati Tags: cooking, DIY, edible alchemy, how-to, meditation

I love red lipstick. Red lipstick makes a statement. It is not unlike a killer pair of stilettos in that it perfectly highlights hyperfeminity and sexuality. I once heard that people who wear red lipstick smile more. And, while I don’t know if that is true or not, I do know that wearing red lipstick does make you more aware of yourself and your response to others.

For instance, just do a search on “wearing red lipstick” and you will find a long list of people remarking on their relationship with their red lipstick. How it impacts their days, how it changes their mindsets, and how it makes them feel about themselves. Because, you see, red lipstick is the kind of thing with which you actually have a relationship. Women claim that it makes them stand up straighter, smile more, feel sexier, cause people to be friendly, etc. etc. Some even claim to garner more attention just for the wearing of it.

And, while I do believe that red lipstick can cause others to treat you differently, because nearly anything has that power, I believe that red lipstick has the power to make you feel differently about yourself. From the moment I slather mine on in the morning I feel “dressed.” I am hyper aware of myself. No matter what I am doing I instantly feel more glamorous. There is no denying that red lipstick is dead sexy. Imagine feeling sexy while doing the laundry! Red lipstick has the power to do this!

If you wear it every day, as I do, you become known for it. And. . .People like it. Red lipstick does garner attention, and you have to be willing to weather that in order to wear it. Confidence is key. And, you know, the odd thing is, when I am wearing my red lipstick, I feel more confident already! Red lippy dresses up any outfit. A t-shirt and jeans can somehow become more when you throw red lipstick into the mix.

I’ve spent a good deal of time finding the perfect red. Not too gothic appearing (I’m really pale), not too orange, not too magenta, not too brown. A perfect red is a lifetime quest, and one I am happy to undergo. Often when I reveal my color of choice to someone asking about my lip color they will say: “But, I just can’t wear red.” And, to that I must say: “Everyone can wear red, the key is finding the right red for you!” The key is to find a red with the right undertones for your skin color. I prefer dark wine colored reds and reds with bluish undertones because they look best against my pale skin. The best tip I can give is think about what color clothing looks best on you and look for a red with that same undertone. You are bound to find something in that particular red family that will look D-Vine on you.

Red lipstick requires a lot of maintenance and a certain degree of etiquette to ensure happy wear. I don’t like to wear lip liner with my red, because I talk a lot for my work and I don’t like that rimmed look that happens as the red wears away. But, I’ve heard of a lot of red wearers who swear by a good lip pencil. Incidentally, due to the fact I wear my red lipstick off so fast, I like long-lasting lipsticks. The only rub with long-lasting lipsticks is that you tend to want to re-apply before the color has fully worn off in an attempt to re-moisturize your lips. But, when you do this, you are actually applying another layer of color, and, in long-lasting lipsticks, this actually darkens the color. So, what begins as a nice red lipstick can end up looking very vampy. If vamp is what you are going for this is perfect, but if you were attempting to achieve something else you may want to be on alert when using long-lasting lipsticks. So, when I want to re-apply a long-lasting lipstick, I rub off the remaining color before I re-apply. Oddly enough, I’m not a huge fan of the semi-permanent lipsticks. They tend to dry-out lips, they don’t layer well with other lipsticks, if you don’t’ keep on gloss the color will actually chip off in a gross manner, and isn’t it just a little creepy that they require a strong cleanser just to fully come off. Additionally, if you miss-apply, you have to get out a make-up remover just to remedy the situation. I find the only time I am a fan of semi-permanent lip color is for an event wherein I know I won’t have an opportunity to check up on my lip color

Red lipstick rubs off on stuff; it is part of its nature. Long-lasting lipsticks prevent this to some extent, but not fully. If you’re going to wear red, you really, really, really must be aware of this. If you touch your lips you run the risk of smearing red across your face. You can also rub the lippy off onto your fingers and then stain the things you touch. And, when you hug people you have to remember to gently turn your head slightly so as to not bury the lipstick into their clothing. If you have a penchant for getting lipstick on your teeth, red can be particularly noticeable. It is best to always keep a small mirror in your bag or on your person when you red wear for touch-ups and clean-ups. Another must-have is a small box of tissues for clean-up and for removal. When dining-out red lipstick can be a bit of challenge. The lipstick can leave un-classy looking stains on the sides of wine glasses and cups. And, the last thing you want to do is wipe your lips off while dabbing way a yummy bit of food and in doing so permanently stain the napkin red. I like to keep a little packet of tissues in my bag for discreetly wiping away my lipstick before I begin dining.

I’ve got a long list of favorite brands and types of red lipstick. And, I’ve found the best way to wear a red is to blend to achieve the perfect tone. Often, I’ll lay on long-lasting lipstick under a more moisturizing red for a really rich glamorous look. My long-lasting lipstick favorites are Loreal Endless Lipstick in ‘Fired Up” and Revlon ColorStay Lipcolor in “Fabulous Fig.” Both of these are great formulas that aren’t too drying and really wear very well. Usually, I will put on one on these just perfectly, and then smear on a more basic red lip color (and rather than re-apply the long-lasting lipstick, I’ll just keep smearing on more basic red lip color as the day continues). One of my favorite basic lipsticks is MaxFactor Color Perfection in #295 Sepia. I’ve been wearing this color since high school, buy it in bulk, and quite literally have a tube stashed everywhere. My other favorite basic red lipsticks are: Origins Flower Fusion in ‘Poppy,’ and Bobbi Brown Lipcolor in ‘Burnt Red.’

You will rarely see me without my red lipstick. I like the way I see myself when I wear red lipstick. I feel more glamorous, femme, ladylike, vixenish, happier, charming, and more like me through the wearing of it. Bottom line, red lipstick is just amazing.

Technorati Tags: Ms. Hinterland, Reviews