Effeminate Menswear
HEAR YE HEAR YE! NEW GENDER UNVEILING! PLEASE GATHER ROUND AND BEHOLD: EFFEMINATE MENSWEAR
With this I mean that my femininity is directly informed by my desire to cut through masculinity. An elder transmasc told a room full of homosexuals that more often than not transmascs, lesbians, and androgynous folks feel 'trapped, crowded, and confused' in their bodies. I definitely fit into the 'confused' category but not for the obvious reasons. I feel like whatever it is that eye am (right now) feels...good. I've always wanted to push that word - woman. I am a woman in rebellion. I want to be represented in the complexities of being Black and Woman and Lesbian and Gender Non Conforming and Demisexual. I often feel like I was never a woman before this life. Like my soul has been craving for the chance to be, woman. I will die and be known for being a Black gay woman. Others will know that I was destined to carve out space for women like me and the ones who don't think I'm a woman like them. So here is this new thing, effeminate menswear, to help me navigate my womanhood. A new lens to look through when molding my gender. The fun part is the continuance of movement. Moving until something sticks. Until things feel right again. Thank you effeminate menswear. The conundrum of you. How funny you are to say. How good you feel on my tongue. You feel right. This feels right.
Let me tell you a story…
I never threw tantrums as a baby. My dad always talks about the time he found me biting my brother so hard I drew blood. He said he got up for just two seconds. And he didn’t hear anything not even a noise until my brother screamed at the top of his lungs. He was two years old at the time and I was a few months old. He had to pry my mouth open to get off of him and when we were separated I didn’t even cry. And I stand on that.
If Only I Knew
If only I knew
When I parked on that street on a slant.
As we stood outside of a closed Aldi.
When you cuddled with me on the couch. When we fucked each other’s brains out.
When we didn’t leave one another for four days.
If only I knew
As I took your picture on the beach.
When we shopped in Philly.
When I held your hand in the water in Michigan.
As we napped during a 23 hour drive.
If only I knew.
What I know now.
I would accept the power of love.
I would accept my flaws.
I would do it all over again.
I would ask for you by name.
I would never let you go.
If only I knew
I would have no regrets.
I would feel so in love.
I would do it again.
I would choose you every time.
I would take any chance to be with you.
If only.
Black Lives In Focus
Center Me.
Center Me.
My shoes. You can’t fit.
I want your money.
I want your power.
Your empathy is impossible.
Sympathy not needed.
Don’t idolize me.
Center Me.
2:30AM thoughts
Hit the nail on the head.
(Oh shit Victoria Monet’s song about non penetrative sex “Touch Me” came on. Now…I’m horny.)
Now listen to this: If you need Dad to get it - don’t.
Things held over your head in the past few weeks/help/money/conversation/desperation/hunger/poverty
Go back to scamming niggas and doordashing on the side.
Get these 3 checks a month.
Girl do you.
And get niggas who have cash and ask no questions.
I’m tired of waiting. Of bills piling. Of question asking.
