Where Did All the Femmes Go?

One Saturday night I went to my favorite lesbian bar in Chicago with a couple friends to drink and play pool. We had a couple beers and I was stretching my body over the table trying to make an impossible shot but was having some unique difficulties. I was wearing a dress and heels so was trying to aim my cue while hiking up my skirt and still not flash half the bar. My friends laughed and one even took a picture as I contorted myself in every way imaginable without exposing myself. After I missed knocking the two-ball into the corner pocket, my friend said, "That's why no one here wears skirts."

I looked around and realized she was right. I was the only woman wearing a dress and heels.

At some point it seems the classic femmes started disappearing from the bars. There were butches abound and sporty tomboys, but not a single woman wearing a skirt. The lesbian community seems to be obsessed with labels at times. There's the butch, the femme, the stone butch, the lipstick lesbian, the granola dyke, and so on and so forth. All the categories seemed well represented on a crowded Friday night, except for one. I stood out as the lonely lipstick lesbian.

I often hesitate to when describing myself as a femme because I worry there are higher expectations than I can meet. I don't shop for groceries in six-inch heels or wear a full face of makeup to run errands. You're more likely to find in me in a t-shirt in jeans when I'm picking up a cup of coffee than a dress. But when it comes time to head to the bar for a night out, I love throwing on my sexy stilettos.

I wasn't always so femme. When I was growing up my mother had always encouraged me to be very womanly. She insisted that no lady leaves the house without some mascara and blush. She always complained when I pulled my hair back - I looked so much prettier with it down. So when I got college, I cut off my hair and refused to wear makeup. I started wearing baggy jeans and sweatshirts everywhere. But after awhile, rebellion wore off and my true femininity came through. I gave into impulse and bought a pair of pumps. You can't choose to be butch or femme or anything else. I'm a lipstick lesbian and I just can't help it.

That's why it seemed so strange to be the only femme in the room. Surely I couldn't be the only dyke here with the same passion for "Sex and the City" as "The L Word." I asked my friend Skye what she thought about it. She had also noticed femmes were doing a disappearing act and was getting frustrated. "I'm a butch woman," she said. "I want to date a femme." The butch/femme couple may be an old stereotype but it still has some truth to it. I typically date butch women. I love a girl with a crew cut and hiking boots. In fact, I've been known to fall all over myself for a girl Harley Davidson t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants. So once again I started to wonder, if there were so many butches in the bar how could there not be any femmes?

After careful consideration, I came up with an idea. Or more accurately, I came up with an idea after a woman thought I was straight. She basically took one look at my dress and asked if I had wandered into the wrong bar. At some point it seems archetypal femininity became a sign of heterosexuality. If you're a dyke and want to look like a dyke you have to throw out your makeup brushes and curling iron.

I'm sure this isn't true of all lesbian bars in the country or even all the lesbian bars in Chicago. But I still can't help but wonder when appearances became so important to dyke culture. Am I less of a lesbian wearing Jimmy Choos than I would be wearing Birkenstocks? Coming out of the closet is supposed to be the freedom to be your self. But as queer culture develops its own sets of norms, the independence of self-expression seems to be replaced by new code of conformity. With this expectation of what a lesbian looks like, I feel more and more out of place in a dyke bar. But that hasn't kept me out of my high heels. In fact, I bought a lovely new dress yesterday to wear to the bar on Friday night. It may make things a little more difficult when I'm playing pool, but at least when I miss my shot I'll look great doing it.

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