A few weeks back, Muse & I went to a meditation group and I held her jacket for her when we were heading outside. She dipped down to let me more easily slide the coat up onto her shoulders, and I laughed.

“You’re not supposed to move,” I said. “Just let me do the work. This chivalry thing is designed to make you look good.”

She laughed too. “Ah, right. How would I know that? Nobody holds my coat for me. You’re bringing butch back.”

I like that. I like the alliteration, three b’s in a row, and the second epitrite of poetic meter in the phrasing. I really can’t take credit for bringing butch back - honestly, I don’t think it ever went anywhere, I think if anything it just went a bit underground during the gay and women’s rights movements, and many folks are now reimerging to problematize and celebrate gender, myself included. And youth these days are more open to gender and sexuality differences than we ever have been, so aside from some old-school activists coming out of the woodwork, the youth also have a hand in opening up these conversations, refusing to be limited by labels or definitions, and yet finding value in the historical contexts of labels and words as well.

Chivalry is deeply feminist to me. When in femmes, I expect femininity to be deliberate, done with the whole knowledge of the compulsory heteronormative restrictions which dictate that women must be and do certain things, particular that we must wear high heels, delicate cloth, restrictive clothing. Femininity is not made for comfort or movement, it is made to accentuate the sexualization of a woman’s body - and that’s why things like holding her doors open (so she doesn’t dirty her white gloves or expensive manicure), pulling her chair out (so she doesn’t have to awkwardly move a bulky piece of furniture, and risk getting it caught on her skirt or stockings and ripping something) or holding her coat (so she doesn’t have to reach around and risk ripping the tight seams in her shoulders or upper back) are necessary to me, as an acknowledgement of how restrictive femininity can be, and of how difficult it is to walk around the world in these clothes, as a celebration of the beauty of femininity on the body, and with deep respect for the courage to costume and perform femme to begin with.

There’s a long history of these gender roles, these accentuations of the body as a flirtation, as a mating ritual, as peacocking, to attempt to attract a lover.

All this is to say, I’m really not taking credit for “bringing butch back.” But I like the phrasing, and I’d like to think that I’m encouraging it. I’ve written it before (& I’ll write it again): I would never tell someone what their identity is, I would always wait for them to tell me how they choose to identify. But because I’ve found such play and liberation and fun and self-empowerment inside of butch, I do want to encourage and support it.

So, I made a masthead. Those are my hands and the bird tie, in a portrait taken last summer by Bill Wadman. With a nod to dooce, in theory the mastheads will rotate monthly with a different tagline. 

I tend to follow the wheel of the year, so I wish you a happy spring equinox today:

The Spring Equinox celebrates the return of life and growth to the thawing earth.  For the first time since the Fall Equinox, the time of light and dark in a single day are equal. From this day forth, Spring will arrive, and with her, a wild spurt of growth begins. Shoots of young grass appear, leaves sprout on trees, birds and their songs return. Winter and the dark time have finally been put behind us, and the season of growth has begun. This holiday is truly a celebration of life and nature.

Since the Spring Equinox represents new life and growth, this is the perfect holiday for planting seeds of your own on the path of your life.  New ventures may be aided by the spirit of life and growth that abound, and many people decorate eggs at this time with symbols of fertility. All is new and possible. In addition, this holiday is an ideal time to break the last of the chains that may halt our growth.

So that’s what I’m thinking about today: what chains may be halting my own growth, and how to let them instead be little sprigs of pure green.

My Butch/Femme Holiday Gift List is getting out of control. I have four pages of notes in my journal, multiple notepad files with links and images. And I just can’t seem to polish it up enough to finish, and fuck, time is running out.

So, I’m going to pick five.

Gifts for the butch-leaning gal in your life:

	Engraved hidden message collar stays From Red EnvelopeI’m always losing collar stays in the wash, and these are super sweet, with messages like “You’re so handsome.” Awww.
	Men’s accessories box From Red EnvelopeBecause we still have watches, leather cuffs, chains, collar stays, rings, pocketwatches, cuff links … so of course, we must have somewhere fabulous to hold it all! Red Envelope has many other excellent gifts, check em out.
	Ties that Don’t Suck - by Cyberoptix TieLab on EtsyThese ties are so badass. Some of them are kinda spendy, but they’re beautiful, and so high quality. For someone slightly more punk rock, consider Tomcat Threads for some awesome one-of-a-kind vintage silkscreened ties. I have one of these with a microphone on it, and it’s my favorite tie of all. Look for somewhat slim, skinny, narrow ties, especially for female-bodied folks who are slender. Cyberoptix has many options in the narrow-tie style.
	Whiskey Glasses Via AmazonHandblown glass remake of a classic whiskey tumbler. Perfect for other refined liquors, even if she’s not a bourbon/whiskey/scotch kinda guy. Also consider a flask - even better if it’s engraved with some memorable phrase or image she will love. I wouldn’t recommend something like “to my sweetie, love, me” - it’ll be much more timeless with a personal touch, but not a personalization.
	Tiffany Classic Money Clip From Tiffany & CoEven if she’s more of a wallet kind of guy, a money clip is a good thing to have in the accessory box … and Tiffany’s engraves. Gorgeous, classic. Also consider Cufflinks from Tiffany, there are some fantastic classic, plain, smooth sets that would be such a great gift.

Gifts for the femme-leaning gal in your life:

Perfume BottleI wouldn’t really presume to buy her her favorite perfume, or a new perfume, unless she asks for it (or hints at it!) specifically, but antique perfume bottles are so beautiful on a dresser or vanity, and hold the scents that she picks out.
LingerieOh, I know. It’s a tough one. You gotta know her size, and have an idea of what she likes - and what you like. Browse around through Princess Tamtam and Agent Provocateur for inspiring ideas. (Yes, that’s Maggie Gyllanhall over there, modeling Agent Provocateur lingerie. Many other photos of her at the site.)
Shoes. Oh my god, shoes.Shoes are another tough one. I can recommend some good sites, but probably not specific shoes: the Red Door Store has a fantastic selection, as does Endless (and, as a sidenote, I really geek out on the navigation and interface for Endless. Gorgeous). The Red Door Store has lingerie, costumes, and bondage gear, too …
Vintage Brush & Hand Mirror setThese are kinda hard to find; I bought a set on eBay as a gift for the Unholy ex last year (you may remember that, if you’ve been around. I can’t find the post on it) and I thought it was a brilliant suggestion. The beauty of these items alone, even if they are not used or functional, is such a lovely addition to a vanity or dresser top.
JewelryMan, I feel like I’m going with very cliche femme gifts. Perfume, jewelry, shoes, lingerie? Really, Sinclair? Somebody help me out here, leave more suggestions in the comments, please. Good thing I don’t have anybody special to buy for this year. Meanwhile: I adore this necklace from Janet Jewelry. You can customize some text to go onto it, or choose some excellent phrases that Janet has already made, like “The best revenge is living well” or “whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Super sexy.
More Jewelry … rings, this timeRings are loaded, I know, but if you can go for it, these rings from Amy Peters Studio are amazing and lovely. I want a set for myself, someday.It’s a ring set, three rings with different words on each one: Believe Dream Hope Wish / In About For For / Peace Magic Love Happiness. So they make a little sentence as they rotate on your finger. I also really love her Message in a bottle pendants and double sided necklaces

I got some great comments from femmes about what they wanted for the holidays, so I’ll direct you over there for some more ideas. The iBuzz vibrator for two was suggested, and one last particular mention comes from a reader via email:

I am a submissive, by choice and nature. And though my butch is quite accomodating, there are some things I can’t even imagine her doing unless asked. Brushing my hair, painting my toenails, wearing a sleeveless tee, baggy jeans with a hint of boxers revealed, and Tims, donning toolbelt, hammering and drilling at my command, sweating and…wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. You get my point. In a nutshell, I want a day of servitude from my butch…anything I want for a whole day.

Sounds like a fabulous gift, to me.

Because I still haven’t finished the Butch/Femme Holiday Gift Guide for this year (dammit), I offer you these holiday wishes from The Wet Spots.

Sugarbutch stands in an interesting place within online communities; I see it as touching on and fusing various subjects - activism, feminism, sex, gender, queer theory and culture, sex toys, fantasy, kink, SM, relationships, occasional buddhist philosophies, poetry, community - and while there are multiple circles for these subjects individually, I feel like I have few neighbors doing the same thing I’m doing. But even so, there are many people within these overlapping communities who have contributed, read, commented, and helped Sugarbutch over the past year and a half, and I am partcularly grateful to them today.Before I give thanks, though, my activist self HAS to mention something about the history of colonization in the Americas, and First Nations rights, and how yucky it is that we still celebrate the “discovery” of the US, the Eurocentricism of our history, the history books were written by the winners, et cetera, et cetera. On Thanksgiving, I break out my Buffy Sainte-Marie CDs (seriously, can you name any Native American recording artists?), The People’s History of the United States, and maybe Scarlet’s Walk.

Buffy Sainte-Marie, My Country Tis of Thy People You’re Dying (click the “more” part for the lyrics):

I just can’t “celebrate” Thanksgiving without some acknowledgement of the suffering upon which this country was built.

Despite the shady history of this holiday, I still very much appreciate the chance to celebrate what I am grateful for. Nothing wrong with saying thanks, gathering together, being appreciative.

So, thank you, neighbors and friends, family and lovers, for your inspiration and presence in my life, for your influence, your feedback, your friendship.

my fabulous friends here in this big bad city … the femme, who doesn’t have an online handle; birdee; and my buddy over at Post No Bills, who is throwing a great Turkey Day gathering today (that I will be heading to, assuming I finish some writing)

Cody and Colleen, for all sorts of chats and discussions about gender, sex, relationships, figuring out what I want, and calling me on my bullshit

Jezbian, my “big sister”
Ice, still in Seattle but our friendship is only getting stronger
Matt, extraordinary poet and friend

Molly Bennett Creative
Heather Corrina and Scarleteen, for the amazing activist work
Audacia Ray and her forward-thinking porn and activism
Rachel Kramer Bussell, her amazing writing work - she is such a pillar in this writing/sex community

Dylan, for reading and commenting here practically from the beginning, and for butch bonding, and for reminding me that the butches are NOT dying out, that there are still young butches

Essin’ Em, for her prolific sex education

the folks at Feministing, because while I want to take issue with a lot of what they’re doing, they are still being quite successful at being a catalyst for young women’s feminism, and that’s fantastic

Viviane, from Viviane’s Sex Carnival, she’s the “blog mommy,” as she is coming to be known, for throwing her amazing Tea Parties and enabling me to meet much of the New York crew of sex bloggers: Jefferson, fellow bourbon lover, who will go down in history as THE New York Playboy; Tess D, from whom I have continuously learned how explorative and fun the world of fantasy can be; Avah, Calico, Madeline; Lolita, whose sexy tricks I would love to learn; Eileen & Maymay, who I am excited to get to know better …

I’m also extremely grateful to the girls who have met me with my sex and gender explorations, in bed, in coffee shops, in dark bars, in comments on this site, in my dreams, in the Sugarbutch Star contest (it’s finishing up, I swear).

Thank you, for being a part of my life; you have effected it, changed it for the better. I’m very, very grateful for this community.

—

* Amendment, a few links:

Four questions to ask yourself to boost your feelings of gratitude, from the Happiness Project

25 Books I’m grateful for, over on Feministing

I set a few goals for myself this past Memorial Day weekend, including: spend time with myself, finish the “unputdownable” (and I use that in a tongue-in-cheek way - have you noticed the upswing of use of this term in publishing lately? I think it’s rediculous, personally) book I started, clean up the apartment, go to the park and throw the frisbee around.And, perhaps most importantly: to go through the boxes underneath my bed.

My bed is up on risers, partly, I admit, because I like higher beds (better angles that way) but also partly because in my former three-hundred-square-foot-apartment-with-no-closets, I needed storage space. So when I moved in, much of those boxes that I didn’t have time or space or appropriate fixtures to unpack ended up shoved under the bed. Some of them, like boxes of old journals and boxes of photographs, will probably stay down there, or stay in ’storage’ in general, but others I knew I needed to go through.

This is what I found:

• Two boxes of clothes, including three sarongs, sarong pants, two Ani Difranco tee shirts, four spaghetti-strap tank tops with things like “cunt” and “fruit” on them, two Alix Olsen tee shirts, my letter sweater from high school, a sweatshirt from my pre-school (that was a gift after I left home, not from when I was actually in pre-school), and the blue “diesel dyke” jacket I used to wear nearly every day

• A small shoebox of stuffed animals, small ones, that I’ve collected or been given over the years

• Two boxes of CDs. This is a problem, actually, because I don’t have any CD storage unit anymore, and I’m not really sure what to do with the hundreds of CDs I have. I should probably go through them and rip them into digital music and get rid of them, at least half of them or so, the ones that I don’t really care to have, but my desktop computer is on its last legs, and needs a serious upgrade, so that has to happen first.

• Hats - five baseball caps, one cowboy hat, one top hat from halloween years ago. I don’t really wear hats.

• Two boxes of electronic chords and gadgets, including two (dead, I think) CD players, a landline phone (will I ever need one of those again?), CAT cabling, various power chords for who-knows-what devices …

• Three shoe-boxes, what I tend to refer to as “memory boxes,” containing things like ticket stubs for concerts, movies, and plays; birthday cards and letters; notes from friends and lovers; notes-to-myself scraps of paper when I didn’t have my journal with me, likely scribbled at concerts, at museums, or bars; photographs; nametags or laminated passes for when I was a volunteer for theatre or film festivals … you get the idea. All sorts of scrapbook-type bits of paper, things I wanted to remember that I did.

Why do I save these things?, I asked myself. Partly, it’s for exactly this experience of going through them, remembering those fun events and moments of my life that were significant. I consolidated those three shoeboxes of memories into one larger hat-box sized box, and it overflowed a little, so I went through some of it, throwing enough of it away that it would fit. I’m kind of sad to throw them away, actually, because that act of going through the box is exactly the reason to keep it. But will that stuff ever be of value to anyone but me? Does that matter? I’m not much of a scrapbooker, but I suppose I could be, or perhaps I should be, if I want to keep all of this … stuff. Is that necessary, though? Do I need to keep my ticketstub for Ocean’s 11 and Border/Clash and Ami Lagendre’s dance performance from 2002? If I can’t remember that I went, were they really all that significant?I also ran into all kinds of notes from past loves, really sweet cards and thoughts and moments from those relationships. Why do I hold on to those things? Do I really want to go back to them, relive them later? I only feel sad, they make me ache a little. Do they really have a purpose, is there a need for them in my life? I’m not sure. I can’t really think of why I might need them. But somehow, I can’t quite let go of them either.

My impulse is to organize all this data, take the fragments and put them chronologically into a book, a scrapbook, and construct a life from them. I guess that’s what I always thought I’d do with them. But do I really want to spend time doing that? Obsessing over and organizing my past? What would that really do? I’d end up with a book, a creative scrapbook of some of the things in my life that mattered. Who would look at it, besides me? Would I even look at it?

I took some of the boxes down from the shelf in my closet, too. There is still more work to do with the boxes under my bed, but I compiled a few boxes, sorted through half the clothes, have two boxes now to give away or donate (if I can ever figure out how to do that here in Brooklyn).

Damnit, I just went to work on the “weekend update” entries I’ve been working on and discovered that I didn’t save them yesterday. I hadn’t finished - not even the first part - but that’s annoying.Having a frustrating day, actually. I believe people tend to get weird around their birthdays, it kind of depends on the year and the person and the circumstances what kind of “weirdness” it is, but there’s always something a little bit off and strange about the weeks around that particular date. Thanks, much, for all the birthday wishes & greetings, it was terribly sweet and wonderful of everyone and I feel loved & blessed. :)

I’m still trying to finish my submission for Best Lesbian Erotica 2008 (it was due 4/1, I only had a YEAR to finish it) and that’s stressing me out too. Lucky for me, I’m heading home after work and will have lots of time to myself tonight!

Today is Imbolc, Christianized as Candlemas and Americanized as Groundhog’s Day. It marks one of the turning points of the wheel of the year, this point being when the seed begins to sprout and become visible. “Imbolc is considered a traditional time for rededication and pledges for the coming year,” according to some wiccan practices.Naturally speaking, it is the time of year when the light is beginning to win. To gain control and power. From Summer Solstice to Winter Solstice, daylight fades and darkness takes over. Winter solstice marks the darkest time of year, and the time when each day becomes longer, brighter. And Imbolc, the first turning point of the wheel after the Winter Solstice, is the crescent, the baby sprout, the crack of light, time when hope abounds.

We tend to forget we are animals on a fragile planet. These turnings of the year, these celebrations of nature remind me.

[Brigid's] association with fire also pertains to the creative life. Finding passion in our work is a major achievement. Handling our energies well requires maturity. It takes effort to find a balance where we have vitality without being consumed.

Brigid is said to have invented the fervent Irish mourning wail called keening. Part of her presence resides in the faerie spirit whose keening can be heard at night in times of grief. This link reminds us to respect our losses. Experiences of renewal often include bereavement. We continually suffer losses, especially in the moments of passage. Claiming our wholeness includes valuing the sorrow for that which is no more.

via Imbolc folk story… emphasis added.

This article also says Guidance through life’s difficulties could be drawn from [myths] symbolism. Yeah, no kidding.

I will be lighting an orange candle tonight, and thanking the sun for its return.