It has taken a long time for me to write this article. Six years, in fact. Why? Because I have been in femme oppressive spaces the majority of the time I have been out. Places that value masculinity more so than femininity, places that pitch me more as an anomaly than a valuable contributor, and places that cannot see where femmeness might sit on the “front line.”
For 6 years I have struggled with the term femme and tried to see how I could find power in a term that was being directed at me, rather than one I was taking on myself. In that sense, it felt like something I had very little choice about. Just as my community interacts with me as a woman, it too interacts with me as a femme.
Perhaps, I shouldn’t have been so confused, since I managed to find power in the term “woman.” Once I had begun to understand this, my 6-year journey seemed to come to a natural pit stop.
Over the past 6 years I have gone from,
Non- Femme,
to,
Reluctant Femme,
to just
Femme.
I did not get a choice about being a woman, being treated like a woman, touched like a woman, sexualised as a woman, objectified as a woman, contained and dismissed as woman; people also do these things to me as a femme.
So, here it is, I’m out, I am a fucking femme (do you still love me?).
Now, what does this mean?
For me, it means I value femininity, in its broadest and narrowest manifestations, as powerful. It means I feel the brazen feminisation of my image is radical and that I can utilise the intentional placement of standardised and non-standardised beauty in space, to debunk ideas, affects, and consequences of patriarchy, homophobia, transphobia, and racism. It means that as a black woman, the ownership and utilisation of “beauty” which has been socially constructed, accepted to be and standardised by whiteness, is radical. It means my commitment to lace bras, lace everything, is as fierce as my commitment to wearing it to the next queer fundraiser. It means that make-up IS my way to fight and that is how I feel comfortable in this world. It means that I can use make-up to aggress, defend and protect myself. It means I DO NOT believe in the queer obsession that masculinity is the only or preferable way to the revolution. Lastly, it means I will not let you obliterate me into nothingness because of your failure to see how my presence is import, valid, sexy, radical, political, cute, dangerous, brave, scary, and deserved of respect and space to exist.
In the name of eyeliner, the benevolent, the merciful, protectors of all things MAC let us be truly open to your teachings hence forth regarding “femme privilege.”
-A Queer.
One of the flaws in the “femme privilege” argument is the failure to diversify our perspective of violence AND to correctly regard the fear of violence as violence itself, as per the common law definition of assault in England (See R v Ireland [1998] AC 147).
This masculinization of what violence is, namely “crash,” “bang,” “wallop,” and how it can be committed has lent itself, at times to the eradication of the femme experience of violence and the audacious introduction of femme oppressive terminology and ideas like “femme privilege.”
To only see violence within the frame of a hyper masculine physical performance is to eradicate the ability for femmes to articulate the “type” of violence they have to deal with, if it does not fit within those parameters; in my personal experience it often does not.
When I am in a room full of homophobes who have not considered I might be a queer person, and thus feel they have a green light to verbally assault my community, and me, I do not feel safe. I am filled with anxiety at the prospect of them “finding out,” (they always do, I refuse to hide) and what follows is, usually, an onslaught of painful and insulting questions about my sexuality and offers to fix me (read, fear of imminent violence).
To say this violence is some how a privilege rather than say it is a different type of violence is severely divisive and shows a lack of support for the same dykes, queers, lesbos, bi’s who are your friends, lovers, fuck buddies, partners, and more.
One of the most painful things about not having femmeness recognised as a place where I feel powerful is that it is most often by women who are masculine of centre, the same women whom I may be romantically involved with and same women who take up SO much space with their gender presentation of masculinity, in some way shape of form; as if it is the queer norm. There seems to be very little space for me to take as long as I need to get dressed, to do my face etc., little understanding that I am actively trying to fight for my freedom with AND in this dress that simultaneously is turning you on. Now that’s economic!
Imagine if I questioned why my honey took so long to strap up or bind before a night out, I would not dream of calling into question her tactics to fight the good fight. Just because mine comes in the form of and plays with femininity, it does not make it any less radical, up for discussion or necessary of justification.
Frustration with my process of getting ready, my process of getting ready to face the world that day, my process of being comfortable in this woman hating, lesbian hating, trans hating, queer hating, person of colour hating, disabled hating world is problematic and in this case femme oppressive.
We are constantly doing this as a community and when you rush me to get dressed when we’re not even late (or even if we fucking are) or ask me why I am putting on lipstick when were are just going to the shop, dismiss the importance of femme conversations about nail varnish and lipstick. You are trivialising my role in this revolution.
Because of these behaviours I have felt very uncomfortable in claiming or labelling this femmeness. Subconsciously I have been distancing myself from the very women who understand me the most because my community says they have no, or very little value. I spend most of my time around masculine of centre people, whom I love, dearly, but the recent introduction of some fucking amazing femme women into my life (you should all know who you are) and how safe, understood and accepted I have felt in their embrace, in our conversations about lipstick to the gender binary has led to me to the conclusion that femme phobia has isolated me and now I fighting back. Fuck you, you little femme haters. Fuck you!
I fight homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, femme phobia, racism, misogyny and ableism with a short skirt, my tits out, a potty mouth, a fucking good pair of boots and the best pair of lined eyes you’re gonna see this side of the river…and what of it?
- Zx
Zinzi Minott is a dancer, an artist, and an activist. Working towards the greater politicisation of people through movement and the political value of dance. She is a carver of space both physically and organisationally. She founded “Rainbow Arts,” an LGBTQI Arts collective, co- founded “Akilah LIVE,” a cross arts platform and currently writes for “Afro Punk” as their only British correspondent. At present, she is working on “24 Reps :dancing at the intersection” (working title), a durational solo piece looking at the repetition of oppression, its intersections and exhaustion as a consequence. Look out for blog soon! You can follow her on Twitter @rainbow__arts.
Thank you for writing such a great article! The time it took to bring your inner expression to terms is worth the wait/weight. I too have been through a process where I was committed to expressing the masculinity in me. For some time, I had been comfortable just riding the fence, in between, carrying the “versatile” flag. But I’m pretty femme and that time I spent focusing in on masculinity only brought me back to this truth: It is out of the Feminine (in balance) that the Masculine is born. So, yes, I do feel powerful in my flowing skirts, light make-up, and sometimes revealing tops. Its not to attract; its to honor my own truth. And when I wanna switch it up, maybe even go out in drag, I can do that comfortably too. <3
How strange that among lesbian women, the privilege is perceived to be gender nonconformity. Whereas among gay men, the privilege is all in gender conformity, masculinity. There is so much extreme effeminophobia directed at males that it’s not just adults who suffer hate crimes but feminine little boys get abused and sometimes murdered by their own parents in most countries, including Western countries, and the stigma is so extreme that some in the gay male community have internalised that and reject them as adults. Whereas there’s a weird reversal of that among lesbians, it’s the gender conforming people who get rejected by a divisive minority.
Love. This.
!!!!!!!
Thank you for sharing your truth.
Thank you so much for this! I only hate that it’s necessary. Thank you for giving us a valuable tool in fighting femme phobia aka reconstituted sexism.
Thank you for this piece, which has captured so much truth that tears came to my eyes while reading. As a feminine women of color, I have experienced a similar internal conflict with what “femme” means to me. Often I found myself moving in and out of the femme identity out of frustration with exclusion and the politics of desire. Your words embraced my own sadness, anger, and hurt around the invalidation of the femme identity as radical, transgressive, empowering, and BEAUTIFUL (particularly femmes of color). Thank you, thank you, thank you hermana.
So great!!! Thank you so much!
I really love this article, like, soooooo much. When I get paid, I am getting this paragraph printed on a tshirt, that I am going to wear every single day when the weather gets warmer ‘I fight homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, femme phobia, racism, misogyny and ableism with a short skirt, my tits out, a potty mouth, a fucking good pair of boots and the best pair of lined eyes you’re gonna see this side of the river…and what of it?’
Thank you for an amazing article Zinzi
Thank you for all your lovely comments. Much appreciated. Zx
I love this article. As a self-identified femme of color I have found power in claiming my femme identity. Being femme doesn’t mean that I always occupy a space of privileged. It means that I intentionally claim my queerness and my femininity. It means that I sometimes face discrimination within queer communities of color because they perceive me as not being politically aware and falling under the gender binary. It means that in non-queer space I have to verbally identify myself and face the consequence of doing so. Being a visible femme means that I am brave, means that I am powerful, means that I am fearless. I appreciate you discuss the time that it takes to for some to claim their femme identity. This is a wonderful and powerful piece.
I am a member of the femme sisterhood Theta Epsilon Alpha Sorority and will be sharing this article with my sorority sisters.
I love this so much, I have to make it my new manifesto.
I absolutely love your piece! As a feminine lesbian, I have found myself in lesbian spaces where the privileged and “courageous” lesbian identity was masculinity or butchness, not femininity. That is not to say that our butch or masculine identified sisters haven’t faced adversity and disrespect, but it’s time that people realize that femme-ness or feminine lesbians don’t always occupy a space of privilege. It’s circumstantial. Thank you for sharing your perspective with such a strong voice and embracing who you are unapologetically.
It has always offended me that our images of courage are all conflict-centered. Thank you for pointing out the flip side of that, which is that the stereotyped images of courage and integrity all ape masculinity. I have a soft face, curly hair, fat boobs, and no love of fighting. I also don’t shut up or go away. You have shared a voice with me.
” I have a soft face, curly hair, fat boobs, and no love of fighting. I also don’t shut up or go away.”
I feel like I need this on a business card.
Yeah, Leslie. Right on.