It wasn’t necessarily obvious to me that I should call my blog “The Lingerie Lesbian“. Even if it seems like a natural choice now, the name still shapes both what I write and the perceptions of my blog. There are great things about my name– it’s good at catching people’s attention, for example, it stands out, and it is often a great explanation of my point of view (plus, for the web nerds out there, it’s also great for SEO).
There are trade-offs though, and ones that have everything to do with how the word “lesbian” operates in the world. There seems to be a kind of pornographic tinge to my blog’s name, for example, and it’s pretty clear that a lot of people who click on my blog were looking for porn that features “lesbians in lingerie” (in ways that poorly represent both lesbians AND lingerie).
Now, I really don’t have a problem with pornography, in and of itself. But when the word “lesbian” always has some sort of lascivious meaning attached to it, it makes you realize how much the idea of a “lingerie lesbian” is already played out. I also know that my name turns people off– while I’m not big enough to get hate messages (thank goodness), I can feel the way just the phrase “the lingerie lesbian” makes both individuals and brands feel uncomfortable. If you don’t know that feeling, you might call it paranoia or an overactive imagination– but it’s there, that touch of uncertainty, the knowledge that someone is treating you differently. And that’s one of the consequences of being so obviously and publicly ‘out’.
People act like whether you are ‘out’ is a yes or no question. It’s really more complicated than that, because in the real world, you may have to come out to each and every person you interact with. Some people will blame you if you’re not out– others will feel like you’re too out, as if you are changing the atmosphere for everyone else by reminding people that you are not straight. The politics of outness are complex: you may choose to share your sexuality with different people depending on your relationship to them and their feelings on the issue. Being out to your friends and being out to your parents is an entirely different situation. So is being out in a professional environment vs. privately.
And then, of course, your appearance changes how out you are to the general public; to the man on the street; to the person who doesn’t ask. One thing I heard when Anderson Cooper came out last year is that “everyone knew” or “it didn’t matter.” That’s just not true. Anyone who says that simply doesn’t realize the bravery it takes to tell the world, “I’m gay” or the way the silent void of not saying anything makes speaking out even harder. That’s why when Jenna Lyons recognized her partner at the Glamour Women of the Year awards, I almost wanted to cry with joy. Every time someone isn’t ashamed to mention having a same sex partner, it makes the stressed, uncomfortable pause before “no, I have a girlfriend” all that much shorter.
Jenna Lyons with partner, Courtney Crangi
I’m not necessarily being brave by calling myself, “The Lingerie Lesbian“– but I am being almost aggressively honest. I was so tired of the assumptions of straightness that follows me in my physical life that I wanted to make it clear that my sexuality is a part of who I am. Just my presence changes the conversation. Some people, gay and straight, say that your sexuality is private, that it’s not a necessary part of a conversation about fashion or anything else– I completely disagree. If I look around me and listen to the conversations, I am constantly hearing about my coworker’s husbands, celebrities’ boyfriends, some popstar’s (straight) wedding, how attractive some model (of the opposite sex) is. It feels like I’m inundated in heteronormative culture and no one sees it but me. No matter how liberal or accepting a community is, if you’ve come out, you know what it’s like to see someone’s face change, for their whole mind to shift to take in a reality that had genuinely never occurred to them. You’ve changed, completely, right before their eyes– even while you know that you’ve stayed completely the same.
Vivienne Mok
One thing I haven’t touched on is how the fact that I dress “femme” or in a feminine manner, means that I don’t even fit into the conception of what a gay woman is, for the majority of the straight (and sometimes gay!) populations– which means this whole “coming out” business is an activity I have to go through on a weekly, if not daily, basis. And if I don’t feel up to making a point about it, I somehow feel like I’m hiding something, even if there was no opportune moment to bring it up in conversation. Here, on this blog, I never have to worry about that kind of confusion or miscommunication and I’m grateful for it.
So, though you learn about me through these blog posts, you may not know everything about me. But you do know that I am ‘The Lingerie Lesbian‘ — and my sexuality is always going to be part of the conversation.