Oh, For the Love of Lipstick

I was three years old when I got my first tiara. It stayed on my head for months. Even in the bathtub, my mother was forced to wash around it. Kindergarten ushered in my lipstick phase. My grandmother gave me those tiny, white store samples and I slathered it all over my lips until my mother decided it was no longer cute and made me look “too old for my age.” In high school, I discovered high heels and fluffy skirts — the kind that softly whip around when you twirl.

Not a lot has changed. If you open the third drawer of my nightstand, you’ll find what is now known as my birthday tiara. It’s new, of course. (One wouldn’t wear a plastic, rhinestone tiara at my age!) I’ve figured out that orchid pink and ruby red lipsticks look best on me and I’ve amassed a collection of all things feminine, including lots and lots of “twirly” skirts.

My fiancé, like a lot of people, isn’t a fan of labels. I can see why. They put people in boxes. They assign characteristics that are entirely the product of societal norms. But, you know what? For me, the femme label (more specifically the label of lipstick lesbian) makes me feel like I belong. It turns out I’m not the only ultra-feminine woman who isn’t attracted to men. There are others like me — my tribe! My big, beautiful femme tribe. Had I found it earlier, I suspect I would have left the closet years ago. (Well, not the actual closet — there are too many pretty things in there.)

The notion of femmes goes back at least 100 years. “Femme has gone from the idea of a binary, from being the opposite of butch, to being an identity in itself. Now, it’s a very solid identity, not just about someone who may or may not be attracted to butches,” says Wendi Kali. Her book, The Butch/Femme Photo Project, highlights the butch/femme dynamic across the country. What we see are dozens of femmes in all of our amazing and, what some would argue more inclusive, colors. Some of us are old school and let our butch partners lead. Others take the lead ourselves. We are strong, we are delicate, we are quiet, we are loud, we are young, and we are old. Feminists. Leaders. Followers. All of us in this great, big melting pot we call femme.

Sadly, many of us also feel invisible.

Wendi says that’s the number one issue femmes tell her they face. She says, “They have to come out on a daily basis not only to the straight people around them but to their own community.” I, for one, have bought dozens of rainbow earrings, scarves, and bumper stickers to let the world know who I am. I miss that sense of community that comes from acknowledging “one of my own” when I’m out and about. Charlyn Heard says she “learned over the years how to give the subtle, knowing looks to others without having to wear a neon flashing rainbow across [her] chest.” But, she giggles and adds: “I’m not opposed to doing that, either.”

At the same time for me, “femme problems” are a lot like “first-world problems.” For those of us experiencing them, they can be traumatic. When compared to others? Not so much. Personally, I’ll start complaining when my sexuality costs me a job or sends thugs after me down a dark alley. I can hide behind my femininity in the mainstream world in ways a lot of other lesbians can’t. Charlyn agrees. “I hear [butch] women talk about the troubles they sometimes have … especially in bathrooms.”

All in all, femme is a good place to be. (Only six more months until I get to wear my birthday tiara again!)

You can buy The Butch Femme Photo Project on Amazon.com.