I noticed you didn't answer the question posed by the illustration at the beginning of the article. "What needs to change? My body or society?"
What about the option of changing her attitude? Her self-esteem? Is getting other people to change what they say the only way for her to feel better? That is such a profoundly passive framing.
There needs to be an addition or sequel to this piece that offers encouragement and validation and determination and defiance and hope.
A lesbian friend visited me some time ago (1993) in Paris in a bizarre left bank commune I lived in - she arrived with her girlfriend and pet boy. Not carrying an arsenal of leather, she borrowed my chaps (a 240lb bodybuilder at the time, my hips and legs were just the right size for a big butch woman ), and vest, and I fondly remembered the evening we all (with my boyfriend at the time big-eyed Pablo, and designated driver Jack) dropped acid, went to “Le Keller” (The Cellar) and across the street they went in a newly opened Lesbian Leather bar.
As the acid kicked in and the poolroom began resembling a strange neon parabola (I took 2 tabs accidentally, even longer story) and I had difficulty saying anything but “Gugga-gugga”, in a wave of lucidity I asked my BF and the designated driver to make sure my friends weren’t freaking out across the street (never had acid before). We crept over to the other bar, knocked on the door. It opened, and our friends sort of popped out (think Looney Tunes) the way watermelon seeds pop out from between fingers when you squeeze.
They were in heaven. She had to prove she was a woman (took her shirt off), everyone screamed, and being the new butch in town they were feted as only the French can. We went on to “Le Manhattan” in Le Marais and a couple of us parked under downstairs under a pinball machine with a large Cointreau to smoke joints while the acid wore down, and the women made out in the backroom surrounded by gay men fucking and sucking.Then they danced a bit. Around 5am we all walked an hour (it seemed) down Rue St Jacques to Rue de la Tombe Issoire. back home, hand in hand tripping through the city at dawn, smelling fresh bakery smells and watching a truly coruscating dawn (love the word).
Years later I heard she transitioned.
Talking with Gayle Rubin earlier this year about gay porn over coffee (I have been digitally remastering gay art from the 70’s and 80’s), she told me that Pat Califia transitioned. Gayle seemed ineffably sad.
Hi there, thank you for your comment! My name is Elise, I serve as the Editor of LGB Voices, and I’m also a journalist. I'm currently working on a long-term investigative freelance project on the true history of the gay rights movement told by those who were there, for which I am interviewing LGB people over the age of 50 about their experiences. I am unsure if you fit into this category, but I am guessing as much based on the context in your comment, and I would love to hear more of your stories. If you would be interested in being interviewed for my project, please respond to me here or by email: elisevongunten@gmail.com . I hope to hear from you soon!
Für Elise - I’d be flattered to help. 50 is quite in the rear view mirror, I’m celebrating my 25th wedding anniversary mid February to my husband of 86, I am/was buddies with gay artists from the heydays of the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s... and sharing my AI autobiography project with Stein, Milk, Vidal, Tom of Finland and others...
The communal loft in Paris I described was that of a straight vanguard of gay rights - Jim Haynes - who fled London in the 60’s because his underground arts magazine had gay personals which were entirely verboten and he was to be arrested, a sort of cracked mirror version of Wilde.
I fled to Paris in 1990 when the last long-time/fuckbuddy friend I had in LA died of HIV. I found out in 2020 I am homozygous the CCR5 Delta-32 mutation rendering me essentially immune to HIV/AIDS, with few exceptions everyone I had as friends or lovers
And who will be transed as children? Effeminate little boys and butchy little girls. Each group would likely just grow up to be a happy healthy gay man or woman. But now? Lifelong pharma customers who likely will never enjoy making live. Trans is an attack upon the gay community.
The toxic cult of gender ideology has poisoned LBG; it has piggybacked onto the gay/bi movement with the help of Stonewall & their ilk. And it’s still under the radar for the vast majority of ‘ordinary’ people. Thank you for your account of your experience; I hope your voice will help to raise the lid on this vile ideology.
Brilliant framing of the issue, thank you!
I noticed you didn't answer the question posed by the illustration at the beginning of the article. "What needs to change? My body or society?"
What about the option of changing her attitude? Her self-esteem? Is getting other people to change what they say the only way for her to feel better? That is such a profoundly passive framing.
There needs to be an addition or sequel to this piece that offers encouragement and validation and determination and defiance and hope.
A lesbian friend visited me some time ago (1993) in Paris in a bizarre left bank commune I lived in - she arrived with her girlfriend and pet boy. Not carrying an arsenal of leather, she borrowed my chaps (a 240lb bodybuilder at the time, my hips and legs were just the right size for a big butch woman ), and vest, and I fondly remembered the evening we all (with my boyfriend at the time big-eyed Pablo, and designated driver Jack) dropped acid, went to “Le Keller” (The Cellar) and across the street they went in a newly opened Lesbian Leather bar.
As the acid kicked in and the poolroom began resembling a strange neon parabola (I took 2 tabs accidentally, even longer story) and I had difficulty saying anything but “Gugga-gugga”, in a wave of lucidity I asked my BF and the designated driver to make sure my friends weren’t freaking out across the street (never had acid before). We crept over to the other bar, knocked on the door. It opened, and our friends sort of popped out (think Looney Tunes) the way watermelon seeds pop out from between fingers when you squeeze.
They were in heaven. She had to prove she was a woman (took her shirt off), everyone screamed, and being the new butch in town they were feted as only the French can. We went on to “Le Manhattan” in Le Marais and a couple of us parked under downstairs under a pinball machine with a large Cointreau to smoke joints while the acid wore down, and the women made out in the backroom surrounded by gay men fucking and sucking.Then they danced a bit. Around 5am we all walked an hour (it seemed) down Rue St Jacques to Rue de la Tombe Issoire. back home, hand in hand tripping through the city at dawn, smelling fresh bakery smells and watching a truly coruscating dawn (love the word).
Years later I heard she transitioned.
Talking with Gayle Rubin earlier this year about gay porn over coffee (I have been digitally remastering gay art from the 70’s and 80’s), she told me that Pat Califia transitioned. Gayle seemed ineffably sad.
Excellent article and apt analogy.
We need to get back to celebrating butch women.
Hi there, thank you for your comment! My name is Elise, I serve as the Editor of LGB Voices, and I’m also a journalist. I'm currently working on a long-term investigative freelance project on the true history of the gay rights movement told by those who were there, for which I am interviewing LGB people over the age of 50 about their experiences. I am unsure if you fit into this category, but I am guessing as much based on the context in your comment, and I would love to hear more of your stories. If you would be interested in being interviewed for my project, please respond to me here or by email: elisevongunten@gmail.com . I hope to hear from you soon!
Für Elise - I’d be flattered to help. 50 is quite in the rear view mirror, I’m celebrating my 25th wedding anniversary mid February to my husband of 86, I am/was buddies with gay artists from the heydays of the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s... and sharing my AI autobiography project with Stein, Milk, Vidal, Tom of Finland and others...
The communal loft in Paris I described was that of a straight vanguard of gay rights - Jim Haynes - who fled London in the 60’s because his underground arts magazine had gay personals which were entirely verboten and he was to be arrested, a sort of cracked mirror version of Wilde.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Haynes
https://www.bbc.com/news/world-55703174
I designed and printed the “People to People” series for him, in the BBC link, and as well cooked his famous dinners off and on.
Jack in my story was Jack Moore.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arts_Lab
I fled to Paris in 1990 when the last long-time/fuckbuddy friend I had in LA died of HIV. I found out in 2020 I am homozygous the CCR5 Delta-32 mutation rendering me essentially immune to HIV/AIDS, with few exceptions everyone I had as friends or lovers
before 1993 is dead.
But oh, the stories.
Fantastic, thank you! Also, Congratulations on your upcoming anniversary!
Can you send me an email to: elisevongunten@gmail.com
or
fill out this form so I can get in touch with you:
https://forms.gle/7yoYrBHqtiKT617W9
That way, we can keep chatting and set up a formal interview time. This is all such amazing stuff. I can’t wait to talk with you more!
And who will be transed as children? Effeminate little boys and butchy little girls. Each group would likely just grow up to be a happy healthy gay man or woman. But now? Lifelong pharma customers who likely will never enjoy making live. Trans is an attack upon the gay community.
The toxic cult of gender ideology has poisoned LBG; it has piggybacked onto the gay/bi movement with the help of Stonewall & their ilk. And it’s still under the radar for the vast majority of ‘ordinary’ people. Thank you for your account of your experience; I hope your voice will help to raise the lid on this vile ideology.