The Lesbian Look
April 5th 2006 03:18
The second weekend my girlfriend came down from Newcastle being a momentous occasion, I wore a miniskirt. And high heels- some of you may know the kind, so uncomfortable you never wear them anywhere, but you can never pack them away because they make you look so good.
Thanks to trackwork delay I spent a pleasant hour at Central Station people-watching, and was forced to realise that I’m getting this whole lesbian-chic thing all wrong. First the guys were checking out my legs and girls were checking out my shoes. Then I saw a –real- lesbian couple and understood the problem. Permitting quantities of hair to grow on my legs would be a good way to discourage second glances. And I should put on much more weight, wear tight-fitting black and/or khaki, smear eyeliner around my eyes and chop off the hair (on my head).
I’m not a huge fan of stereotypes, but I couldn’t ignore the evidence of my un-smeared eyes. This was a cultural phenomenon, and without a flannel shirt I would continue to be cross-examined by every bouncer on Oxford St.
But is it worth giving up your integrity and sense of self-image to gain acceptance and credibility in a close-knit community? People get angry if you don’t conform to a type- even if the stereotype is a rebellion against a (conformist) traditional standard of feminine beauty. Especially so.
So when my girlfriend finally did arrive in another gorgeous pink ensemble, we weathered curious stares from onlookers and death-glares from the very people in the room who should best understand why two girls would be so happy to see each other again.
Thanks to trackwork delay I spent a pleasant hour at Central Station people-watching, and was forced to realise that I’m getting this whole lesbian-chic thing all wrong. First the guys were checking out my legs and girls were checking out my shoes. Then I saw a –real- lesbian couple and understood the problem. Permitting quantities of hair to grow on my legs would be a good way to discourage second glances. And I should put on much more weight, wear tight-fitting black and/or khaki, smear eyeliner around my eyes and chop off the hair (on my head).
I’m not a huge fan of stereotypes, but I couldn’t ignore the evidence of my un-smeared eyes. This was a cultural phenomenon, and without a flannel shirt I would continue to be cross-examined by every bouncer on Oxford St.
But is it worth giving up your integrity and sense of self-image to gain acceptance and credibility in a close-knit community? People get angry if you don’t conform to a type- even if the stereotype is a rebellion against a (conformist) traditional standard of feminine beauty. Especially so.
So when my girlfriend finally did arrive in another gorgeous pink ensemble, we weathered curious stares from onlookers and death-glares from the very people in the room who should best understand why two girls would be so happy to see each other again.
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Comment by amy
Is it possible, however, that you just didnt recognise the lesbians who didn't fit the stereotype? I can't remember the last time I saw a lesbian PDA (public display of affection), so if you don't fit the profile I'd assume you were straight.
And statistically, thats probably a good assumption. It justn't say much about lesbian fashion!
Comment by Lia
But there does seem to be a sense of community among girls who like other girls, and it's a community that is very closely guarded. And if you aren't willing to embrace 'lesbianism' as a lifestyle in its entirity, the assumption seems to be that you're faking it. Probably to impress guys.