i had a more elaborate caption but GAY. THIS IS GAY. “i prescribe 😉 a strict regime of exercise 😉 starting immediately 😉 😉 ;)” i know that technically she’s encouraging kira to dick down the holosuite-generated trill man of her choice but also: bullshit. inaccuracies in the historical documents. this is gay.
she is watching dax walk away.
you can never be too paranoid miss bette davis said that
look out little girls and boys, talk about your toys talk about your cool cats all the better to eat you with all the better to beat it i said that
“BUTCH is an environmental portraiture project and exploration of the butch aesthetic, identity and presentation of female masculinity as it stands in 2013-14. It is a celebration of those who dwell outside of the stringent social binary that separates the sexes and a glimpse into the private and often unseen spaces of people who exude their authentic sense of self.
In recent years, like so many other pejorative terms used to oppress minorities, BUTCH is being reclaimed and infused with beauty and pride to more accurately describe a person who claims their female masculinity. These people may choose to cut their hair short, may wear ties, or may swagger with more strength than coyness. BUTCH is an adjective. And like all adjectives, it is fluid and subjective. Just as there are many types of hot women, there are many types of butches.
These portraits are of the people I know in the San Francisco Bay Area who relate to and claim the term BUTCH. These people are my friends, friends of friends, and are part of a very large gay and queer community world wide. Starting in the spring of 2013, in a effort to practice portraiture, I asked some of my closest butch friends to risk being seen by the lens and sit for me in their private environments. After printing and displaying my first three portraits, I realized I wanted a whole wall of these images. The wall turned into a room and the room into an online gallery. I then wondered what would it have been like to grow up surrounded by these images in addition to the ubiquitous feminine I saw in most magazines. …”
“BUTCH is a celebration of those who choose to exist and identify outside of this binary that has never allowed any accepted crossover. BUTCH is inviting viewers into private lives of female masculinity and suggesting a resilience in nature’s insistence that there is more depth to masculinity and femininity than societal norms care to entertain. Who is policing gender presentation, and why? The fashion world has been asking the same question for ages. Are we ready for the answers now? It is undeniable that we are born with the sex organs that we are born with, but why are so we threatened by what others choose to claim as their gender presentation? Are we ready for these explanations? Or are we more afraid of the question?
BUTCH is an exploration. BUTCH exists. BUTCH is an homage to the bull-daggers, dykes, manly women and female husbands before me. BUTCH is acceptance to the baby butches, young studs, gender queers, and dykes that continue to bloom in the face of societal norms.”
We’ve reblogged this site many times before, but it’s a wonderful gallery and the photographer is still adding to BUTCH 2. Sometimes when I’m feeling down, I browse through all the photos and feel reassurance in seeing people who look like I do, reminding me I’m not alone. A must-see for all butches.
I am always hungry & wanting to have sex. This is a fact. If you get right down to it the new unprocessed peanut butter is no damn good & you should buy it in a jar as always in the largest supermarket you know. And I am an enemy of change, as you know. All the things I embrace as new are in fact old things, re-released: swimming, the sensation of being dirty in body and mind summer as a time to do nothing and make no money. Prayer as a last re- sort. Pleasure as a means, and then a means again with no ends in sight. I am absolutely in opposition to all kinds of goals. I have no desire to know where this, anything is getting me. When the water boils I get a cup of tea. Accidentally I read all the works of Proust. It was summer I was there so was he. I write because I would like to be used for years after my death. Not only my body will be compost but the thoughts I left during my life. During my life I was a woman with hazel eyes. Out the window is a crooked silo. Parts of your body I think of as stripes which I have learned to love along. We swim naked in ponds & I write be- hind your back. My thoughts about you are not exactly forbidden, but exalted because they are useless, not intended to get you because I have you & you love me. It’s more like a playground where I play with my reflection of you until you come back and into the real you I get to sink my teeth. With you I know how to relax. & so I work behind your back. Which is lovely. Nature is out of control you tell me & that’s what’s so good about it. I’m immoderately in love with you, knocked out by all your new white hair
why shouldn’t something I have always known be the very best there is. I love you from my childhood, starting back there when one day was just like the rest, random growth and breezes, constant love, a sand- wich in the middle of day, a tiny step in the vastly conventional path of the Sun. I squint. I wink. I take the ride.
in stone butch blues leslie feinberg talked abt the 3 items of women’s clothing rule where the police who raided lesbian bars wld check to see how much these women were still upholding femininity. i have never been thru that but i remember reading it + how much it resonated w me. this rule has not been expelled from our cultures mentality… i remember telling a straight woman i was considering getting a buzzcut + the 1st thing she said was ‘oh, they look great w big hoop earrings.’ there’s like a sort of balancing act where for every item of men’s clothing u’ve got to do penance thru makeup + accessories……. + its got everything to do w reassuring the person viewing you, who might feel challenged by ur shirt or jacket or jeans + so needs to be able to look down n take comfort from the pair of heels on ur feet. saddest manifestation is definitely when we internalize it– when the fear of being marked not-woman makes us wear sth we hate, just for some tie 2 femininity. the more masculine the clothing, the thicker the makeup
must a sport be entertaining to watch? 