I do. No, I don't. Er, I dunno!

Good friends of mine are getting 'married' in England this weekend. I really wish I could have flown over for the occasion. They've been together for umpteen years - through thick and thin. They still drink champagne together on special occasions and regularly go away for mini jaunts to lovely places. Not only am I really sad not to be able to be there for the 'I do, I do' moments, I am also secretly yearning to be at a rainbow wedding! Since SA legalised gay marriage several months ago, I have not been invited to a single gay wedding.

And that's not to say I don't know any gay people: I do, honest! It's just that the gays and lesbians apparently aren't jumping to take the proverbial plunge. They're not leaping to walk down the aisle. Which begs the question: why? Is it that we are not the marrying type, or are gays and lesbians reluctant to tie the knot the heterosexual way? Is there an aversion to the concept of marriage? Or are we traditionally poor at commitment?

My personal take is that we haven't been thinking marriage, and so now that it's a possibility, we're a little taken aback. We need to take stock and get used to the notion, slowly and surely, and also make it our own. Marriage, in my books, is all-too hetro. It's also all-too biblical: a man and a woman declare their love before God. The cynic in me says that marriage among hetro's often works because kids come along and give the couples a reason to stay together! Yes, I did say that was the cynical view! Of course there are those who stay in love and have the groove, and know how to move and shake and stay attracted and remain faithful and respectful of one another. In my experience though, and judging by my straight married mates, these are few and far between. And who are we to speak? The gays are not great at staying together for life. 3-4 years is 'good'; 10 plus is a bloody miracle. Then there are the living historical figures who've attained the 20-plus milestone. Because gay years are really like doggie years. One gay year is like three or four straight years together. Don't ask me why - it just seems that way. So the 20-plus milestone is more like 30-40 years. And, no public declaration to keep them together, just love, love, love! And bloody hard work!

I digress though. Why is it that the gays and lesbians don't seem to truly settle? If I look at a fairly large handful of friends and acquaintances, quite a few seem to methodically be going through all the available options in town. Swopping and moving from partner to partner over the months and years. Do we settle for second best because of the limited pool of people? Do we settle for a warm body in our beds for a while, because it beats sleeping alone in the cold? Or are we just more honest and more realistic about partnerships and what they mean? Do we just understand that people aren't meant to be together for life?

I don't know what you think. Your experiences will define that. For me though, I think I do believe in commitment and love and honour and respect. I'd rather sleep alone that with a hot-water bottle and I do still believe there are people out there meant for us. Yes, I admit it. I am still a romantic. Does this mean I believe in gay marriage? Hmm, well, I am not sure about that. I do believe in commitment ceremonies though; in partnerships and in really gay affairs in the name of love. And I also believe in the right for everyone to choose what best works for them. Ultimately, if we can be together and love one another for a long, long time though, it doesn't matter what we call it.

Her-story in the making

On January 11, 1997 television history was made. The first prime time lesbian kiss was aired on US TV in the series Relativity, and it got many tongues a-wagging. Some wagged for good reasons and some, the right wing or religious fanatics, wagged 'em tongues for all the wrong reasons. Regardless, it was a television milestone. According to afterellen.com, Relativity also made history for being the series that also offered the first recurring lesbian character who was a central part of the cast.

Sarah Warn of afterellen.com writes:

"Rhonda is played by Lisa Edelstein, who has starred or guest-starred in several television shows and movies, most recently Leap of Faith and Felicity and movies like Keeping the Faith and What Women Want. Rhonda's love interest is Suzanne, played by Kristin Dattilo who currently stars in Showtime's The Chris Isaak Show (and was Janie in the Aerosmith video for "Janie's Got a Gun").

The kiss didn't happen until the 13th episode, named "The Day the Earth Moved" because the theme of the episode revolves around earthquakes, sex, and life-changing decisions. The episode weaves several threads involving multiple characters in and out of each other in a humorous and thoughtful way, and a storyline which follows Rhonda and Suzanne's introduction, their first date (albeit an unusual one), and their first kiss. (For those who didn't see the episode, I've provided an episode recap below.)

Relativity was ground-breaking not only because of the kiss, but for the natural and almost casual way it portrayed the lesbian characters and their relationship with each other, as well as their relationships with other characters on the show. At the time, it was one of the first shows ever to treat its lesbian characters just like the other (heterosexual) characters on the show, with no attempt to sensationalize their relationship or the kiss. The lesbian characters are very likable, and they are treated with affection and supported by the other characters--for once, no one has any "issues" with their sexuality (besides Isabelle's initial surprise at her friend's sexual orientation, since Isabelle had only known her to date men previously).

Also unusual was the show's casual use of the words "lesbian" and "dyke" (in a positive way) in conversation among the characters--another television first (and unfortunately still not that common today).

This episode, like the series, was also a consistent mix of funny, sweet, and serious, with complex characters and an entertaining and realistic storyline.

The series only lasted a few more episodes after this one before being cancelled by ABC due to low ratings--despite considerable critical acclaim--bringing the final total to 17 episodes. None of the subsequent episodes featured the relationship between two women except the last one, in which Leo and Rhonda's grandfather has a heart-attack, and Suzanne accompanies Rhonda to the hospital, where she is introduced by Rhonda to the doctor as "my lover."

Conservative Christians and other critics were up in arms when this episode debuted. Tim Wildmon, Vice-President of the American Family Association (AFA) issued a press release at the time denouncing the kiss on Relativity and criticizing the series for taking television "where it has never gone before" by showing "caressing, nuzzling and passionate, open-mouthed kissing" between two women."

Like I said, tongues were a-wagging! :-)
So, to see that piece of gay history, load it up below and check it out.

Step to it....

I hate to only write something on this blog after watching a TV programme (like I've done with Terminator, the L Word and others) but... I've just watched the third episode of Army Wives and there was a little scene between two of the main characters, Claudia Joy and Denise (Kim Delaney and Catherine Bell of JAG) and that made me think it could just head into lesbian turf down the line. It got my attention enough to send me to the Internet, Googling 'Army Wives lesbian' and while there doesn't seem to be any gay sub-plot down the line (sob, sob) I was glad to see I'm not the only one to have had this thought.
Check out this 'what if' montage on You Tube which manipulates scenes to make it very, very gay..
Oh and before you get there, consider this: how plausible the love relationship seems between these two women -- the acting and script really is quite good on how close and intimate women are with one another.

Alanis is back

Yay, she is back - about to release her new album in the next few weeks. Here's a sneak preview. Isn't she awesome?

Very blind...

They don't call them 'blind dates' for nothing! And boy, can they be a leveler. Let me explain. Over the years, friends have tried to set me up with a 'blind date' and over the years, I have resisted. Until recently that is, when I realised that unless I took any and every available lead, I may end up needing to invest in a Q-20 company. And so I said 'yes' and they set me up. And boy, oh boy, has it been interesting - to say the least. You think someone knows you until they set you up with someone. Then you get to the dinner / coffee/ drink venue and you sit across from the 'blind date' and you start to have a mental dialogue with the person formerly known as 'friend'. 'How can you do this to me?' has been a phrase that's crossed my mind on more than one occasion. 'Are you bloody mad?' is another. All the while, I've sat through the very bloody blind date, making cute conversation about what a good friend the common bloody betrayer is, and trying to think how I'm going to get away from this situation without hurting anyone in the process. In fairness, the 'blind date' is probably thinking the exact same thing and we could probably have a grand old laugh at the expense of our 'common' friend who thought we'd be good together.

Oh dear. It hasn't been too fruitful yet. Although I do persist, just in case one day, there is a real gem I'd kick myself for not meeting.

Terminally terminal

Over the past week, I've ploughed through Season 1 of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. I didn't think I'd like it, to be honest. I had Arnie and 'I'll be back' in my mind, but I was so wrong. It's far more than the cheesy actor-turned-politician dishing bad one-liners. And why am I a convert?

Two words: Lena Headey.

She is amazing. I think I'm more of a fan because of her role in Imagine Me and You - where she played the delectable lesbian florist intent on giving the object of her affection those lilies. But in Terminator, she is awesome. I think I'm terminally in love with a TV character.

*sigh*

Coming out of the closet

LOVE this cartoon off www.thegaycartoonsite.com

Why us?

I've been watching Nip Tuck 5, and was delighted to see Ellen's partner, Portia de Rossi, in the series. She's gorgeous, and a far cry from that backtracking Anne Heche. So, I get very excited to see that she plays Julia MacNamara's new love. And then, it all seems to go awry. Why are all the lesbians unbalanced? Why are they so bloody flawed? Can they not make a normal, balanced lesbian who happens to look gorgeous and kick ass in the bedroom at the same time? In Nip Tick, the character played by Portia has a psycho daughter who any lesbian would be ashamed to name her own. Man, oh man, why can't the dyke just have a normal, well-adjusted kid? Is it too much to ask? Does anyone have any viewpoint on this one? If so, I'd love to hear your theories.

Oh dear, what's going on?

I have to admit to feeling a little apprehensive about dear old sunny South Africa ever since electricity became a luxury item. It all began more than a year ago in Cape Town, but here in Durban, we weren't really affected at all and so we didn't panic. Then, all of a sudden, it hit us. About two weeks ago, there were daily blackouts in suburbs around SA, causing absolute havoc for those running businesses from home; those trying to raise kids and those trying to cook dinner.

It became a national crisis. We didn't have enough power, they said. Holy crap, you've got to be kidding. It was first a case of denial, then anger and then slowly, acceptance. Most of still grappling with the latter phase. But I've gone out and bought a gas stove; gas lights; candles and ethanol based two plate cooker and lights. Remnants of the brownie in me coming out: be ready for any situation.

In the interim, I am wondering how this would impact on my relationship status. I think I could actually have quite a lot of fun with the lights out if I had a hot partner to share the non-air-conditioned atmosphere with. Applicants apply via this blog!!! x

Pitter patter time. Or not.

I was quite surprised recently by the reaction of a group of friends, to the statement by myself that I might be keen to have a baby in the next few years.

What came as a surprise, was the very vocal disapproving response from most of the group. "Are you serious? - Do you know that it's for life?" were some of the questions posed. I engaged because I was interested in the debate and hadn't expected to encounter resistance from a group of lesbians.

I'd thought they would cheer me on and offer to babysit. It's a big decision after all and I was a solo participant-to-be.

So, why the resistance? I'd thought that most women had the innate urge to have a child. I'd supposed that if you hadn't been a mother, there would be - at some level, even if it was a very deep one - a sense of loss. I know this is what it would surely feel to me if I never had a child.

Interesting new perspectives were raised. They genuinely didn't regret not having a baby, in fact most of the women in the group were actively grateful at how their lives had turned out. They didn't display any hidden signs of being in denial or having pushed down the maternal instinct at all.

Hell no, they said, we're grateful not to have been tied down. It was, after all, a different era as well when they had been my age (most of the group was over 50).

Anyway, what I learnt is that there is no single answer. There are only answers for each individual. We are all so different and therefore we will all make different decisions in our lives. It only makes them different; not right or wrong.

I am not sure what will happen in the next few years. I would love a child of my own, but as a single lesbian, it would be very difficult for me to make it happen. Not from a biological perspective - that's the easy part. I'm talking about the things beyond that: being on my own and raising a child; being a gay woman and raising a child.

Who knows what will happen tomorrow. Whatever it is, I am sure of one thing: I don't want any regrets, either way!

SA needs to wake up and smell the 'pink' rand

Marketing and tourism people talk about the 'pink rand'. Basically, gay money. Disposable income that can be used on lifestyle consumer items: travel; home decor; appliances etc. It's supposed to pack a powerful pink punch. So, why aren't more SA companies wooing the gay market?
I can't think of a single, mainstream advert in the national press or on any medium which is designed to get me to take note and encourage me to spend my money there. All I can think of by way of explanation is the no-one is brave enough to target the gay rand openly, because we still have a bigoted society that advocates for an openly homophobic man, Jacob Zuma, to become our next president.
Ok, so that's very sad. Look how Cape Town has benefitted from pink money? They've been clever about their strategy and it has paid off. We've obviously got a long, long walk to freedom.
So, even if there aren't big adverts appealing to the market, the one sector that should be very sussed and seductive towards gays and lesbians is the tourism sector. Right?
Not so. Maybe in the Mother City they are, but in KwaZulu-Natal, I constantly hear of cases where gay couples book for a weekend away somewhere and the place assumes that if there are two, they must be a straight couple. One friend who was trying to book a romantic birthday weekend away at a spa was asked "and would your wife like any treatments?" Er, no! But my boyfriend certainly would! He actually had to tell her that his partner was another man. "Oh," she said in reply.
How outdated that we need to out ourselves - much to the surprise of the venue hosts. They should be trained to assume nothing. If I book a double bed, don't rush around when I arrive with my girlfriend and give me a room with twin beds. Please, I know what I want.
What I am trying to say is that the tourism sector, from the smallest B&B to the biggest hotel, needs to wake up and smell the pink rand. It's a wonderful, lucrative market. Just show us some real hospitality!

How the tourist accommodation sector can become more gay-friendly. Some practical tips:

1. When someone books - it doesn't matter who - don't assume it's Mr and Mrs. Use gender neutral language.
2. If you ask for names and figure out that the two who are sharing a room are of the same sex, don't assume they're friends. They may be partners and they will want a double bed.
3. Keep your personal feelings out of it. Don't give us 'oh!.." or attitude.
4. Realise that we will talk about our experience and spread the word that yours is gay friendly / non gay friendly venue.

Which L-Word?

I am a 30-something year-old woman. I pay my taxes; I tend to my roses; I am loyal, I am successful, I love to make people laugh; I’m a snob when it comes to loo paper (double ply, please!); I am old enough to remember the collapse of the Berlin Wall but young enough to know what the Rainbow Nation is. I see the glass as half-full; I own my own home; I can never remember the punch line; I am a coffee drinker and I am a lesbian. Actually, make that ‘a gay woman’. Not because I’m part of some tambourine-jangling fraternity but because – when coming out - it’s always been far easier to utter the three-letter description over its multi-syllabled partner: ‘les-b-ian’.

I have decided to share my story because I can – and because I get tired of paging through magazines or flipping through channels trying to find my story.

The crux of the matter is that despite more constitutional freedom and protection than ever before, it’s still pretty difficult being a lesbian. Hatred and discrimination are difficult to shove back in the closet.

Clothes fill mine, by the way. Although from time to time I get waay back in there (to do a little dusting, mind you!) – but also to reflect on how far I’ve come and how far I’ve yet to go. I’ve always believed in being straight-to-the-point about my multi-syllabled sexuality - with anyone who’s anything to me. I’m delighted to say, most have been very accepting and, as the years have crept by, I’ve become more adept at spitting it out. I’ve also noticed that the thirties have produced in me a new, quiet inner confidence. I am less worried about what people think on the one hand and more resigned that, on the other, I will always care to some degree.

But it worries me that popular culture is turning ‘being gay’ into a trend; a fashion accessory – something to try on for size. It worries me that ill-informed journalists writing one-sided accounts of attempts to legalise gay ‘marriage’ – are feeding fears that the overall plot is to take over society and impose ‘our will’. It worries me that many, many men – including some of my friends – still fantasise about two women getting it off or, better still, coming to their rescue and showing them ‘the way’. It worries me more that countless black lesbians – in townships around South Africa – are being ‘shown the way’ more forcibly; are being beaten and raped and punished for loving women.

Because, here’s the deal. It’s not about hating men. It’s about loving women more. For most of the gays and lesbians I know (I’ve polled it, honest!) – it’s not about waking up one day and deciding ‘Hey, to hell with tradition, I want to be different!’ It is an agonising, protracted process which, for many – involves much denial, a great deal of confusion and self-doubt, the overwhelming desire to conform, the rejection of oneself and many other hideous things – before there is realisation that there must either be self acceptance or self denial and lies. And try being a gay teen. Nothing could be more alienating. When I was fifteen and trying to get my tongue around those three-syllables, I honestly thought I was the only person in the world like me. So much for our supposed built-in ‘Gay-dar’. This was either malfunctioning spectacularly or mine had been substituted with a ‘shit-detector’. Because while I couldn’t tell who else was gay, I sure could smell insincerity from a hundred paces off.

I believe that every parent needs to ask themselves how they would react if their child came to them and confided that they thought they were gay. Or if their child came home and said they’d met someone at school who was gay; or had gay parents. Your reaction will have immeasurable impact. Consider it carefully please – and rather cry silently than compare being gay to shop-lifting or worse. Sometimes giving a child wings to fly is the most important thing you’ll do as a parent – even if they happen to be fairy wings.

Representation and misrepresentation

I’ve been reading a book called ‘The Jane Austen Book Club’ which just happens to have a lesbian character in it. She’s not a central focus of the book but just happens to be somewhere on the landscape. And that’s when I noticed it. The ‘scavenging.’ We’ve all done it at one time or another. Scavenged through some or other content to find that which we can relate to best. The athlete may search for athletic content; the new mom, anything to do with babies; and the gay person looks for ‘gayness’!

Novels are one thing. There isn’t much gay reading material out there. Try finding a gay section in your local book store for one thing. They’re not easy to find. And if there is one, they’re often embarrassingly positioned right opposite the ‘religious’ section, or next to the ‘psychology’ area. But that’s another issue.

Television on the other hand is slowly embracing gay and lesbian themes. When 'The L Word' hit our small screens a few years back, all the girls with Mnet thought we’d struck gold. ‘An exclusively lesbian series? No way?!’ Yes way! But even that was flawed. The one thing I just could not understand was why every advert bracket seemed to be filled with spots appealing to Afrikaans men. Boere-musiek CDs were advertised as were other male-oriented products. Didn’t see any lesbian-related ads there. No Indigo Girls or kd lang CDs up for grabs; no Subaru adverts trying to sell us cars. Didn’t even see any women-oriented ads, like tampon adverts or ones advertising lipstick or shampoo for goodness sake. I mean what could the brief have been for those Mnet sales execs: ‘Um, we’ve got a lesbian show so let’s go out there and try to sell some Kilpdrift and coke and Boere-musiek CDs.” Missed opportunity there. Don’t they know the power of the Pink Rand? Eish.

Anyway, I digress. My point is that there we were still grateful for the token gesture. The series was full of gorgeous women who did all sorts of amazing things. And despite the fact that I’ve yet to come across real-life-lesbians who’re like those 'L Word' divas, we loved and supported the series because they did occasionally (very occasionally) reflect our lives. Any lesbian reading this now (who has also followed the series), knows exactly what I am talking about. Alice’s legendary wall-drawings of women and their ex-partners springs to mind.

But ‘The L Word’ is the exception. Most of the time, gay people have to ‘sift’ like crazy through hours of television to find any representation of who and what they are. The recent debate in the US over the inclusion (or rather exclusion) of black actors in movies and TV programmes is a similar parallel. Token gestures abound. And sometimes they’re the worst characters on the block. When you only crack the nod in one in 100 shows and you’re depicted as an evil, psychopathic manic (as in Andrew on Desperate Housewives); or the depraved (Bad Girls); or the unfeeling bitch (ER’s Carrie Weaver) – it gets frustrating. It gets a little depressing when you’re represented as all of these things, when really you’re just the girl or boy next door, who happens to love someone of their own sex.

Stereotypes are easier to handle though I guess. The dyke-lesbian everyone can safely spot from a hundred paces away or the limp-wristed queen who’s depicted as so impotent that no one could possibly be offended, dahling. It’s a little harder to find meaningful plots with meaningful characters who just happen to be gay (as a by-the-way, as most straight characters are depicted).

And so, for the time being, we will have to be content with the tokens, and the occasionally all-out-goodies, such as 'The L Word', and just head for the kitchen when those Boere-musiek CD adverts come on.

But come on people. One in ten is a significant market. Perhaps it’s even a scavenger hunt! Speaking of which, I'd better get back to my book. I'm still hopeful that this lesbian character will develop into something more.

Oh-my-but-she's-gorgeous...

I finally watched the 2005 Charlies Angels parody D.E.B.S and have to admit that depite the many cheesy aspects, I loved it. Well, ok, I loved the amazingly gorgeous girls in it, mainly Jordana Brewster. Oh-my-oh-my.. she is just flawless.
I have since Googled her furiously and managed to find this video on You Tube which is pretty good (although the song is pretty crap!). Enjoy!

The new guy...

"Have you checked out that new guy? Definitely gay..."

Irritating becomes lovely...

Here's a completely new sound to Rihanna's irritating Top 20 song, Umbrella, as sung by Mandy Moore. Call me old-fashioned, but I much prefer this version!

Do you remember...?

A gay girl's first kiss is a memorable thing. It's especially memorable because it tends to happen when we're older than our straight counterparts. Some of us just take longer to figure out we actually want to kiss a girl more than we want to kiss a boy; others know early on but don't have the means to 'get connected' until later in life.
For me - as far as kissing was concerned - I had a little of both: boys and girls. Well, one girl to be precise.

She was my best friend. A cute little blonde with blue eyes. We were at senior primary together and we had a rather passionate love affair (for 11 or 12 year olds) back in the early 80s. Looking back, she was my first 'love' but in a very innocent way. We explored our sexuality together and kissed and had regular sleepovers. It was a wonderful friendship and lasted until she was wrenched away from me when her dad was transferred out of our home town.
I was distraught.

She is now married with kids. I am not. I often wonder if she remembers our 'love' and more importantly, how she remembers it.

After that, it seemed that the boy route was a logical one. After all, my one true love had left. For me, the boy-girl kissing was fairly easy. I remember stealing kisses with various boy classmates from about 12 years on. Std 5 (about 12 years going on 13) was when I had my first French kiss with a boy though. Prior to that evening, I remember a couple of us practising on our hands. Hmm, knowing me, I probably wanted to practise on my girl friends!
Anyway, that kiss was fairly average. A bit gross actually if you must know, as it was quite hard to coordinate the breathing and the kissing and the eyes closed all at the same time. Fortunately, this improves with practise!
My point is that in my day (and I say that because maybe things are different now) you were very unlikely to meet a girl and start dating. So, you went with the flow and met a boy.
As the teenage years wore on though, my yearning and need to be with a girl grew. It became no longer possible to go with the flow.
What angst and turmoil there was during those years. I remember feeling so alone and so misunderstood.
So, by the time I had my first real kiss - as an adult woman - with another woman, I was 18. She wasn't someone I knew very well. She was older than me and we never kept in contact after that night, but it was wonderful and special and felt so right nonetheless.
I finally felt as if I'd come home. Actually, we ended up doing a lot more than kissing, but that's another story entirely!

*** Why don't you share your first kiss story with me? Email me or post your comment here. ***

Alanis does My Humps!

I stumbled upon this YouTube of my all-time favourite artist, Alanis Morissette, having some fun with my all-time worst, Fergie and the Black Eyed Peas. Here she is, adding some class to what I otherwise think is a crap song...My Humps done the Alanis way:

Fascinating objects of desire?

Lesbians remain a source of fascination for many men. We're viewed with amusement by some; while others are in awe of us - hoping to catch a bit of the action if they play their cards right.
Ironic really. The last thing most women loving women want to do is play in the male fantasy arena. We are who we are simply because that is the way things are. Nothing more and nothing less. So, in short, we are not likely to play in the male arena. Ever. Most of us anyway. Those that do require another label, perhaps? Straight. Insecure. Bi?
You choose.
Isn't it interesting that most women don't sit and fantasize about getting in between two gay men - in bed. I've never once heard a female friend say something like 'Jeez, Tom and Dick are such a hot couple, I'd like to get in the middle of those two!'
Nope, it doesn't happen. We would rather be heard saying: 'Tom and Dick have such a gorgeous home. I do hope they can help me with my lounge curtains, like they've offered. It would be such a help.'
Think of the average conversation between two male buddies about Delia and Jackie, the couple from down the hall. Ja right, I rest my case!
Pity more straight men out there aren't thinking like women (or like gay men!). We'd have more respect in our world, more communication and better looking lounge curtains!

Bi-what?

Most of my lesbian friends are women loving women. They don't hate men, they just love women more. They're attracted to women. It's women who get the old heart rate going and make the knees weak. Very few are bisexual. Often you find it's the straight girls who're trying being gay on for size who use that word. "I don't choose a man or a person. I can't control who I fall in love with and sometimes it's a man and sometimes it's a woman."
Ja, right. In lesbian speak that means: "Well, if I admit it deep down I'm probably lesbian but I'm not sure how well that would go down so I'll straddle the fence," orrr it means: "Well, being gay is so in fashion right now I'll try anything but really, when it comes down to it, I prefer men."
Hmmph. Either way, many of us are sceptical of bisexuals. My recent experimentation with a lesbian dating site is a good example. I clearly stated in my little anonymous profile that I was a woman seeking a lesbian woman. Yet, every single email I've received inviting me to write back has been from a frigging 'bisexual' woman seeking a woman to join her and her man; to be part of her threesome - her boyfriend's wet dream of woman on woman come alive, no bloody doubt.
Double hmmph.
No thanks. Hit delete. Where are the real lesbians? Maybe I need to go to a straight site, fill in a profile for a woman seeking sensitive man and I could maybe just meet a lesbian. It's all very confusing and very tiring.

Heavenly delights, indeed

I recently saw Nina's Heavenly Delights at the Durban Film Festival. It was a surprise gem and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Nice seeing a movie set in Scotland with thick Scottish accents! And both lasses are lovely indeed!!
Enjoy this montage off YouTube:

Dress sense

Why is that most lesbians - apart from the silicone creatures on The L Word - dress rather conservatively? Even we are guilty of sussing out a stranger by her dress sense (or lack of it). If she's in pantihose, high heels, a sexy little skirt and bearing a healthy cleavage, we're unlikely to say 'dyke', under our breaths, as we tend to do when in packs. We see a sensibly dressed woman on the other hand; one who is wearing a practical pair of pants and a well worn pair of shoes (flat, of course) and we smile at one another and silently mouth the word 'family!'

Hmm, so why is that exactly? Why are we stereotying ourselves into these sensible dresscodes? Is it a way of identifying one another? An extension of the gaydar system? "Ah, denin jacket and boots, must be a dyke!" or is it just that we prefer to dress for comfort and not for eye candy? Or could it be that we've subconsciously dressed that way to send signals to men that we're not on the market for them?

Maybe it's a little of each of these things. I also think it's because we are freer. We don't have to fall for the hererosexual trappings of make up or Wonder bras or stuffing our feet into teeny little heels to impress a man and make him feel strong and macho in our femininity and gentleness. We don't have to impress the male of the species and so we just are. Too simplistic? Too goody-two-shoes? Quite a few of my straight female friends who embrace all three things will disagree that it's about impressing a man. They will argue they do it to feel good. And I am sure there are many who do.

So why don't we then? Ok, some of us do, but the vast majority don't. We can look nice, of course, even pretty, but in a next-door-gal kinda way and not a who's-your-mamma-lookee-here way.

So, should we start? I think it's time we stopped living to stereotypes. If you want to do it, do it. If you don't, that's cool too. But when a sister walks in the gay bar in her sexy little black number let's welcome her instead of asking is she's lost!