Correct me if I’m wrong. I have compiled some of the ways that femme queers femininity for my Queer Theory term paper. I’m trying to think of some personal experiences that contributed to my development of a femme identity… Here are some of my answers to the question, “How does Femme Queer Femininity?”Femme is for Everybody: Answering the question, “How does femme queer femininity?”
Point 1: Femme queers femininity by expanding eligibility, making femininity an inclusive label, rather than an exclusive one.
Traditional femininity has been so strictly policed by society that only a choice few people have been given access to the character trait, “feminine.” People who are not female, people who are overweight, people who have unusual characteristics (like shortness) and dominant, aggressive women have been largely ineligible the traditional label of femininity. Femme, however, is for all people, regardless of sex, physical characteristics or personality styles. In my own life, specifically post-puberty, I had a hard time earning the label of femininity because of my shortness, my larger than average body size, and my general disinterest in boys.
Point 2: Femme queers femininity by involving participants in making and breaking rules of appearance, rather than abiding by previously established rules.
As with queerness, femmeness can be defined by its resistance to definitions. Feminine women have very strict rules defined by the times in which they live. Whether they choose to live by them is another story, but they may compromise their access to the label “feminine” (and the associated privileges) if they do not live by the rules. Femme (as a queer identity) encourages rule breaking! Femininity is mostly defined by the rules that society has provided for it, while femme is characterized by the people who call themselves by that name. If someone says they are a femme, then that is what a femme looks like, but this is not the case with mainstream femininity. Conversely, just because a person calls themselves feminine (in the traditional sense of the word) doesn’t mean that society will agree with them. I personally like acting out femininity, but I gave up on it for many years because I could never succeed as a feminine woman. Now that I understand femme as a transgressive, queer character, as femininity with a twist, I find it as the most appropriate label for the gender that I choose to express. I’m feminine, but I’m not what society thinks I am.
Point 3: Femme queers femininity in that the femme’s audience is defined by her, rather than by the mainstream culture.
A feminine woman without queer leanings may find that her audience is all men without her consent (since non-queer femininity by definition caters to the pleasure and comfort of men). On the other hand, a queer femme lesbian can reject men’s ideals for her femininity altogether, and choose to perform her gender for herself and for her other queer companions. Drag queens may actually have a formal audience for their drag performances, or their intended audience may be fellow drag queens. There is a wealth of audience options for actors of the femme role. As far as I am concerned, my audience right now is the butch and femme culture that I became part of when I was first coming out. At other times in my life, my audience has been my peers, or it has been authority figures. But I feel the best about my gender in the context of butch and femme.
Point 4: Femme queers femininity by being intentional rather than by being the default mode of operation for female-bodied people.
Femme takes into account the performativity of gender. It is not simply resigning oneself to femininity because one is female, rather femme is an intentional performance, where the actor takes the role of femininity for herself, rather than bothering to earn the rights to it. Even queer or lgbt women may do “femininity by default” – this is not femme, even though it is a gender style performed by queer identified people. Femme is queer when it is for fun!

I intend to take account of my gender development through seven periods of my life: 1. childhood; 2. pre- and early teens; 3. freshman/sophomore; 4. junior/senior/college freshman; 5. USF through 2005; 6. Missionary School (2006); 7. Leaving missions / coming out.

Theory

I would like to address the concepts of (1) Gender Accountability (the “rules” of gender expression) and (2) Gender Performativity (as in, gender is something you do, not something you are, necessarily). You know I said above that femme is defined by its resistance to definitions, but that may not be true, now that I think about it some more. Appearances are only very loosely defined by a feminine slant, although one could say that it is almost a feminine “drag,” a caricature making fun of femininity. I actually think that personality is indeed defined by a number of character traits as follows. Femmes are (or tend to be) women who are bold, strong and independent, who do not take anyone’s bullshit, who makes a path where there is none and appreciates diversity. Femme takes an activist role, she is an agent in her own destiny and she believes in the power of love, forgiveness, compassion and the care of others after the care of herself. Femme is also defined historically and presently by an association to queer butches and butchness).

That’s all I have so far, and that’s about 2.5 pages! The stories should hopefully fill up the other 7.5. Eek!

I’ve just sat down to write the rough draft of my term paper about becoming femme. The problem here, is that I’m not really sure how I became femme. I mean, I’m sure that there are a number of factors that contributed to a femme identity, but it didn’t just hit me over the head one day. Right? It’s a process starting from birth, continuing throughout one’s Western (or otherwise) enculturation. I’m asked to write an autoethnography, where I study the effects of society upon me. So… what moments in my life created a favorable atmosphere for me to become femme? What moments in your life made you the way you are?

One of the most important things that I think actually lead to my femme gender was the fact that I grew up in conservative, interdenominational Christian churches. These organizations send a very clear message that sexuality is bad, unless it is between a man and a woman who are legally married to one another. I would venture to say that femme indicates a woman who freely expresses her sexuality. Also, within mainstream Christianity, women have very distinct roles from men’s, and femme is not one of them. Even though there are heroines in the sacred text that display femme behavior, these figures hardly come up in teaches. You’ll hear more about Mary, the virgin (asexual) mother of Jesus, than you’ll hear about Queen Esther’s predecessor as head wife, Vashti, who was banished for refusing to parade her naked body around at a party for the King’s buddies. Is Mary any more holy or laudable than Vashti?

Growing up as a girl teenager in The (white, capitalist patriarchal, heteronormative) Church, you’ll find yourself constantly reminded that your body is an instrument of sin. If your clothes are too revealing, if your pants don’t meet your shirt at your midriff, if your makeup is too flashy, you could be labelled a harlot, regardless of your good or bad intentions. As a female, it is your responsibility to protect all men from your body (isn’t this why women are blamed for rape?) by dressing appropriately, and not acting sexually. They’ve tried a number of ways to convince me that it is only out of common courtesy that we help our “brothers” to keep from sinning over our lewd, luscious, lascivious, lovely bodies but I am so far not convinced that it is my fault or responsibility. Part of my femme identity is a rebellion from this notion that I’m at fault when men have inappropriate sexual fantasies about me, or any other woman. It is absolutely inexcusable to promote this kind of hateful, oppressive belief. hmph!

Needless to say, I tried my best to suppress my femininity, and hide my curves from about age 12 to 22. But what the Church didn’t understand was that my plain, unfeminine (un-anything, really) appearance did not save me from the immature, sexually frustrated young men in my classes. In my junior year trigonometry class, the (old, white, heterosexist, patriarchal, etc.) instructor refused to move the student who would sit in front of me every day. The young man tried to talk to me all the time, distracted me from the lesson, disrupted the class, and said lewd things to and about me. This went on for most of the entire fall semester. I think I blocked it out of my mind, because it did not cross my thoughts for a long time afterward. This happened just after I left the art school that was “making” me gay, I was at a new school across town, trying to figure out how to pass as a heterosexual woman. I had all that baggage, and here comes along this 17 year old boy to make it painfully clear that straight or gay, appearing sexual or not, I was always going to be subject to the scrutiny of men.

But I became femme before I really even knew what it was. Maybe the moment that it was really solidified was last summer, sitting alone upstairs in my borrowed bedroom (I was sharing a room with a friend who was traveling abroad) surfing YouTube and I ran across the 1971 segment of “If These Walls Could Talk 2″ where Amy and Linda meet by chance at a butch-femme dive bar. Hah! I think I realized I was very much a sub/bottom when I saw their sex scene. That cocky smirk simply did me in.

Maybe it was the proliferation of butch voices in my life when I came home from the missions organization where I used to live. My very good friend Kay, and several of her friends are masculine identified females. I knew that I was somehow different from them, and I delighted in the way that we exchanged support be performing our butch and femme roles for each other. She always called me a femme, and I resisted the notion because I thought it meant being picky, prissy, whiny, and not at all resourceful or able. But somewhere down the line I realized that femme was powerful… and I just fell into the role. I delighted in playing my part because it didn’t feel like an act. When I came out (when I came back from the missions field) I remembered that femininity is not just for men. It is also for women and for myself.

So. What events in your lives lead you to a femme identity? Or a butch one? Or any other gender?

Hi. My name is Essin’ Em, and I’m a Femme.

I’ve now identified as a “Femme” and as femme for a year and a half, maybe a little more.  It’s been a hard journey…first reconciling my ideas of feminine vs. femme, and then figuring out what it all meant.  Being with different partners. Being on my own.  It’s hard to figure out your own identity when you’re living it, as it morphs and changes, and you are trying to pin something down that is constantly moving and shifting, as your life moves and shifts.  I have had some trouble being a femme.

This past spring, I was finally over J enough to start going out to the dyke bar in Philly, and to the month queer party.  I’d go, I’d dance on my own, I’d eye cute women, and try to get their attention.  I’d fail. And I’d go home alone and depressed.  There were not many Femmes in the scene….self identifed lipstick lesbians and andro dykes seemed to rule, with a few exceptions.  And I was a self-made Femme, not one wearing a jean skirt with boots, a bandana tied around my neck. I did not fit in.

Then I went to Dinah Shore.  This was my second year, and I had high hopes. The first year, I had my first time really being fucked by someone queer, and they were the one that helped me to realize my Femme identity. I was looking forward to FINALLY having someone “get it.”

But alas, I went to a different Dinah party at a different hotel. It was much trendier, much more LA, much more “skinny women in bikinis.” Even the butchier looking women were wearing eye liner and high heels. The only fellow Femme I found (with her Butch partner) was in her 30s or 40s.  I felt very alone, although still cute:

I came back disappointed and sunburned. I was finally figuring out MY identity, and no one wanted me.

I spoke a bit with Sinclair about it, who said that I needed to figure out my own way of hitting on people, of being me, and if people didn’t like it, well then, fuck them (or not as the case might be).  I tried to get up more courage, but it was hard.  For all I am an outgoing person, I don’t know how to flirt, and I certainly do not go up and approach people I think are cute.  But I tried.  

One night at the club, I went up to a woman and said “I’ve been trying to think of a reason to come over here and flirt with you, but I can’t, so I’ll just ask; would you like to dance?” She looked shocked, told me her name, shook my hand, and told me she’d love to, but was leaving.  I said ok, went back to the dance floor. She was there at least another half hour - it would have been nicer for me if she’d just told me I wasn’t her type.

I tried a few more times…in different (yet always slightly awkward, because that’s who I am) ways to chat up people I liked.  Nothing. I was beginning to feel like nothing would ever work, and I was destined to be a lonely Femme forever.

Then I met a woman after a derby bout - a friend of a former player.  And I saw her again at the next after party, and we danced.  And then we dykes from the team went to another club, and she came with, and we danced.  And I saw her while dancing a few days later, and asked her to go for a walk with me.  She did, and we chatted about the most random things.  A few weeks later, I took her home from another derby after party, and she invited me up. Good things happened.  And then 3 days later, I moved away from Philly.

Once in Colorado, I decided to start afresh. I’d just practice flirting with anyone I found remotely attractive.  I mean, I wasn’t established here yet - it didn’t really matter what people thought of me.  I had all the time in the world.

The third day here, I was getting a new license at the DMV. I’d been waiting about two hours, and then someone walked in, wearing headphones and a shirt that said “it must be my boyish charms.”  I wasn’t sure how they identified, but said person sat down right in front of me.  ”Damn,” I thought, “how am I supposed to try to make eye contact from BEHIND them?”  I sat for a moment, and thought WWSD? (What Would Sinclair Do?)  I had no idea. But I did now what Sinclair would tell ME to do; not to sit there doing nothing, but to do SOMETHING proactive. So I did. I got up, and sat next to said hot person.  Who paid no attention, and was listening to music on the iPod.  I was already halfway there, so I figured in for a penny, in for a pound.  I tapped their shoulder. “I love your ink - I’m new here. Where did you get it done?” And so the conversation began. And then we wound up going on three dates, and became good friends.

There was the girl at the dyke bar.  I was waiting for the Team Gina concert, and she was there, an Ace card tattooed on her forearm, playing with a deck of cards.  I was killing time, and had nothing to lose. “So what significance do cards have in your life?” I asked because I wanted to know. By this point, I was done trying to figure out the “right way” to flirt. Since then, we’ve hooked up twice, and have become each other’s therapy buddies.

I think my best “self made Femme” moment happened about two or three weeks ago. I was out dancing with my current friend-with-benefits’ sister and her friend. And guess who showed up? The aforementioned woman from the DMV. (Welcome to Denver - you thought the NYC queer scene was incestuous?) I had decided to dress up all 80’s for the hell of it (I do things like that):

Let’s just put it out there; I looked ridiculous. And I really didn’t care…something to do with having been a theatre person.  Anyways, I was dancing, having fun, and then walked outside to cool off with the person from the DMV. I step outside, and see someone out there who I think is pretty damn hot. And what do I do (keeping in mind I am stone sober)? Do I try to think of a smooth pick up line? Do I try to finagle my way into her conversation? Oh no no no. I walk outside, look her up and down once, and say “well, damn. You’re pretty hot, just so you know.”

Oh no I didn’t. Oh yes I did. I *am* ridiculous at times (also, keep in mind I was wearing the above, PLUS a giant faux fur cow coat).  Anyways, turns out she’d been chatting with DVM person, so I let them go back at it.  Eventually, I heard cute woman say “I’m from Albuquerque.”  I tell her that I’ll be there in a few weeks for a feminist porn film festival, and hand her a card, telling her she should come with if interested.  She kind of gave me a frightened deer in the headlights look.  I stuck around with the group for a bit, being my usually feisty self, and then we parted ways.  And then nothing.

Until last weekend; I received a text from an unknown number. It was that woman from the bar, wanting to know if I was presenting/teaching in New Mexico. I told her I wasn’t right now, that I’d be back for that, but that I’d love to do dinner, or have her come with to the festival, dot dot dot, etc. She texted back that I should live life, and do both - dinner and the festival.  A few more texts (she told me she had wheels, when I pointed out I was flying in), and boom. I have a date for this weekend apparently.

Crazy. For more than a year in Philly, I struggled with my identity, and trying to be myself as people ignored me.  Yet I’ve been in Denver about four months, and in that time, I’ve gone on more dates than I have the entire last two years.  I’ve hit on random people in random places, and gone out and/or had sex with five of them.  There is a Butch who works the ladies night at a local club. I’d kind of hit on her a while back, and then didn’t hear much, so put her out of mind. The other night, my friend-with-benefits and I went, and she was working. She told me she’d missed me, and that this was a pleasant surprise, and so on. I told her that I’d deleted her number, since she’d stopped texting and calling me, and that I’d leave the ball in her court.  I was feeling pretty feisty, and didn’t feel the need to flirt or suck up, or anything like that.  Oddly enough, the next morning, she texted me, telling me how it’d been so nice to see me.

So maybe it’s Denver. Or maybe I’ve stopped caring so much about what other people think, and I’ve finally come into Femme. I am being myself, my femme self, and it just so happens to be working for me.  Either way, I’m finally accepting of and happy with my identity, my presentation, and my behavior. And so what if I’m awkward and have no filter? I’m also quite entertaining, intelligent, and a freaking saber tooth tiger in bed

-Essin’ Em

I was talking in my kitchen the other day with F, the woman I’m fucking/seeing/having an amazing time with. I’m not quite sure what it is that I said, but I was talking about my Femme identity.  She said something about not knowing quite what a Femme was, but that she was sure she wasn’t one, because of how she acted/dressed/etc, the lack of make up often, and so on.

I tried to explain that for me, I created my own Femme identity. I don’t own stilettos (never have, never will), and I wear the hot pin up heels I have very rarely, due to 3 knee surgeries and ankle injuries. I am allergic to pink, and own 1 pink sex toy, and there is pink on my “fuck you” purse.  Otherwise, I live a pink free lifestyle. I *just* bought my first foundation ever, and I only wear lipstick if I am dressing up in a 50’s rockabilly style, or for a photoshoot. I LOVE to shovel snow and to cook (in nothing but a leopard print apron!). I can check my oil and tire pressure, and change a tire, and I am amazing at doing interior design. I like to bottom, I like to top. I like being dominant and submissive. I have long hair and wear cute fucking underwear, but sometimes like to sleep in boxers and a t-shirt.

I am a Femme.  I like Butches, I like transguys, I sometimes like other Femmes, and I like undefined people as well.  I have created this identity for myself. I am a Femme. Not the same Femme as Hussy or Scarlet or Miss Avarice or Catalina or or or or or.  I am my own Femme. Femme is what it means to me, and no one can take that away from me.