I See you 2017

Hello darlings.

I hope this finds y’all well as you can be.

Can we talk about 2017?

I keep saying it, but I’ll say it again. I’m turning 40 this year. Holy damn.

Let’s talk the Old Goth at 40.

I’ve given up cheap ballet flats for good. I gave away my last pair with some sadness. I’ve figured out that because of the shape of my feet, I’m best with mary janes with some stretch, my trusty Doc Martens and boots.

And how about some protips?

If you have feet that are more narrow at the heel, Dr. Scholl’s Moleskin Plus. Look for the thicker padding and stick some of this in the back of your shoes. it can help if your heels slip around in shoes, help breaking in shoes AND it even helps breaking in new Docs. Also, y’all. Be nice to your feet. I know shit is expensive, but do take care of them, especially if you are diabetic, or don’t drive.

Next thing. It’s time to start transitioning from my holy shit I’m cold style (lots of layers and leggings and tall socks) to, oh damn I’m kinda cold but getting sweaty.

I am so tired of wearing leggings. Yes, I look adorable in them. I’m giving some major 90s realness with my big sweaters and leggings, but I miss dresses.

I’m so excited about the return of babydolls to go with my skater dresses. I’m a 90s bb and I just LOVE that there are so many affordable options for the cuts I favor and most of them come in black or kinda fugly dark floral prints.

I’m working up a new pin board (shop style affiliate link y’all) with some of the stuff I really REALLY want to be wearing for spring. I have fancy goth aspirations but frankly, I’m really a comfy femme old goth and that’s okay. A lot of what I like you can easily goth up with accessories and styling.

Along with the season change, I’m changing my whole work day. I’m retiring from being a professional night owl and moving back into the daytime worker world. I’m not enthused about getting up at the buttcrack of dawn, I am pretty excited to think that my partner and I will be able to go out and do stuff!

Also, like since I might actually have a life outside of work I need going out wear right?

I want to stop here to make a note of something I’m experiencing in the post Trumpfuckian nightmare.

As things have progressed, I’m settling into this very uh, peaceful rage. I want to pull out all my weapons all the time and that includes my Femmeness. I am walking around with my booty out, back straight and chin up.

I walk around giving fewer and fewer fucks about a lot of things daily. Among them, what anyone ever has to say about how I look, how I work out my gender presentation etc. Not. One. Single. Fuck.

Being that I’ve been unable to wear the amount of dresses I like, I’ve been opting for feeling like I’m representing some beat face rugged Femme Realness and I look quite unbothered.

My go to look aside from big sweaters and leggings and tall socks has been my new FAVE skinny jeans. Y’all, I actually really hate to wear jeans. I don’t like how denim feels on my skin most of the time. I have the Lovesick High Waisted black skinny jeans.* They are super black, very comfy. I’m kind of chunky teenager size and I have these in a size 15 for bloated days (today) and a size 13 for a tighter fit. I do find the legs a bit too long for me and they aren’t as skin tight skinny on me as they are on the model but I actually really like them. I also have the lower rise version and I would actually pay full price for em.

For a jeans hater like me, they are pretty great.

I also enjoy some nerdy tees. Uniballer and I are both big fans of Tee Turtle (good sizing range, variety of cuts, GREAT prices and cute designs).

And as for my make up, I’m back to dabbling in the slightly weird. Today behold my faceballs.

Okay so I’m wearing a big ass wing today. For my big wings I do not fuck around. I use a very very black gel liner. (Affiliate links ahoy) My current hands down fave is the L’ORÉAL Infallible Gel Lacquer Liner 24 Hour liner in Blackest Black. I’ve used eleventy billion kinds of liner and for a big ole super black wing this is my never fail. It is as dark as Mac Blacktrack Fluidline but it’s not 17 damn dollars. A lot of the time I buy them bogo and always have a back up.

Being that I was really not fucking around, I used my Aesthetica Pro Series Lip Brush for my liner. Now I know some of you are like um, but lip brush? No seriously. If you have a big ole eye and love a bigass wing, this type of brush makes things way easier. Also, remember if you have a bigger brush the line is always gonne be chunkier and you may need to go in with a smaller brush to pack product at your lashline. I have like four of that type of brush and they are perfect for me.

Next I did something a lil weird. I put this random (it is in an unlabled baggie so it may have been a prototype or 1 off) bright red eyeshadow right in the inner corner of my eye above the liner line. That wasn’t an accident I did it on purpose. I used a little flat shader brush like the one in this kit on amazon. I didn’t blend I just packed color in there. To pack color on, you want to press press press and not do wiper motions. I really wanted a splotch of friggin red and didn’t put on another color or blend it at all. I used the edge (this takes practice) of the same brush and packed that color on my lower lash line too. I took it to the end of the cat eye liner (I cannot get a good pic) and a little in the inner corner tear duct area. Then I piled on mascara and finished with my fave griege nude lippie.

NYX COSMETICS Lip Lingerie Liquid Lipstick in Honeymoon. I’ve tried both high end and low end liquid matte lippies and the lingerie line is in my top two for comfort and wear.

Then I powdered the shit out of my fave and walked out the door.

I cut my own damn bangs on this wig, I’ve got a rekindled interest in doing less “proper” make up. I don’t give a fuck.

I want to fully inhabit the fuck out of my GenderQueer Chunky Assed Old Gothness.

How I present my outer body is my armor. It is how I survive and how I shore myself up when I’m flagging. Look at my face, I know that not only am I the enemy of many factions who are now in charge that it will chap their collective ass to have me walking around with my head up, not cowering in fucking terror.

So you know what?

Fuck it.

That said, I’m going to resume my little body modification savings fund. Maybe for my birthday I’ll finally get my septum pierced or get a small tattoo.

If you followed me from the blogger days, y’all know every year at the gentle prodding of friends I make a ridiculous wishlist for my birthday. I made one. If you buy me a book PLEASE buy the cheapest copy. I don’t need em brand new y’all. Find that here. 

I am depressed and scared. I’m making some other life changes that are scary but happening. Life is rolling on and I gotta roll with it or get flattened.

Stay tuned for some other major announcements.

If you want to follow my other writing, sign up to my writer newsletter which is really a love letter to my fellow creatives. I talk about art, resistance, trauma, what I’m workin on. Lots of stuff. Check out the archive here and sign up if you’re so moved.

I love y’all.

Take care of each other and yourselves.

Love,

Auntie Shannon

 

 

It is National Coming Out Day

Well hello.

If you don’t know already, I am your friendly neighborhood Old Ass Queer Gender Fluid Femme.

When I say Queer, I mean this.

For a time in my life I identified as bi because I hadn’t heard anything else that seemed to fit. Let yer Queer Auntie tell you a story. And for those readers who don’t think they know somebody Queer, now you do.

When I was a wee tiny potato, about 6 or so years old I was in love with four people.

Darcel Wynn of Solid Gold Fame. Ahem LOOK at her:

darcbw2

[image description: black and white photo of a beautiful woman with a long braid over one shoulder in a sequined low cut outfit.

I mean..yo. I remember watching her on Solid Gold and just, I wanted to marry her.

The second person I was in love with was, Freddie Mercury.

freddie

[image description: black and white photo of Freddie Mercury in profile, singing.

I mean..y’all. He was just so beautiful. And such a beautiful soul. Also wanted to marry him.

And of course Michael. Thriller era.

michael-jackson-thriller

[image description: still image from the music video Thriller. Michael Jackson in a red and black leather jacket, dancing.

My last love was a Scottish boy in my class.

I recall informing my Mother that I was going to marry all four of them, we would live in a castle in Scotland with room enough for all our adopted kids, pets and assorted lovers. I look back at that and that is really how my heart has operated. At that age, I had no idea that there were gay and straight people, I figured everyone just made their choices and it wasn’t a big deal.

You love who you love, right?

When I saw a Gay couple once while we were out, I remember wondering if they were married? Did they live in a house? They looked so nice together, I wondered if they got their hair done where my Mom got hers done and did headshots at. That’s what was on my mind.

I had no idea until it was demonstrated to me that being not heterosexual is a problem for some people.

This was in let’s say about 1984ish? Nobody ever said Gay or Queer in a way that wasn’t a pejorative in some way. I was a sensitive little bean and I picked up on it, even from the most casual remarks I understood that my feelings, my love(s) were wrong.

And then the AIDS crisis came and everything was terrible. Men I admired and loved were dying, I heard adults in my life say the most awful evil things about them and to my mind, me by extension. I was terrified, I was depressed. I remember when I started to actually learn the facts about HIV and AIDS I was so ashamed to know people who mischaracterized and vilified + people.

In the early 90s I got to meet HIV+ people. I remember a girl fainted and I was annoyed. I shook his hand and hugged him. I went out of my way to scrounge up change to donate to a local hospice. When I was older in the mid 90s, I spent some time doing a bit of volunteer work, holding hands, wiping lips, reading to bedridden people who were waiting to die.

I didn’t know or understand the queer community at the time, but I was learning about it. I read as much Queer history as I could get my grubby hands on. I read gay erotica, I read John Rechy and consumed gay fiction.

I didn’t feel like I was in the closet. The concept of being in the closet didn’t really matter to me. It was less a matter of disclosure for me than it was trust. I did not trust most of the people in my life with my heart in that way. That said, I didn’t go out of my way to hide it either.

I didn’t “come out” per se because I felt no need to. For me coming out isn’t Queer Street Cred. It doesn’t make or break my queerness.

Coming out for me is a matter of trust and safety.

So when I was wee and very firm in my knowledge of my Queerness whether or not I had a name for it, I had no real desire to put a name on it to make it real.

Often when Coming out day comes around I see a lot of LGBT people doing a lot of work to insinuate without outright saying that if you’re in the closet, you’re somehow less than. That you’re not contributing to the community, that you’re a liar, that you’re just not gonna get your Rainbow Badge of Courage.

I reject that.

Yes, we live in the mother fucking future and in a lot of places, I can marry whomever I please.

That said, we still live in the world where Black Trans women are being murdered for existing. We live in a world where, parents kidnap their children and send them to torture camps to pray away the gay, we still live in a world where it is a question as to whether or not someone can lose their job because they are Queer.

This is reality.

And in reality, we can’t always make the open choice. We have to live. Those of us who don’t have a safety net, or live in Butthole where ever and in that place we will be in danger of losing our lives if we are out- we don’t need to come out to satisfy some bullshit sense of authenticity.

Realness is not how out you are.

Being authentic to who you are does not supersede survival.

I personally am out as fuck.

You don’t have to be. I still see you boo. I see you, I value you and your experience and today might not be the day. Don’t feel bad if you are in the closet. Maybe you don’t have yourself figured out yet, you’re good too.

Not all of us had the moment of clarity I had when i was 6 and in love with lots of people. It doesn’t matter how old you are, how long you’ve been considering, if you’ve gotten down with whatever gender in a sexual way.

I value your safety over knowing your personal truth.

Your life is more important to me than knowing the details.

To wrap this up I want to say this.

When and how you come out of the closet, if you come out belongs to you. It doesn’t belong to chirpy ads, rainbow banners or anyone who’d pressure you into coming out.

You folks, you’re who I honor today. You’re who is in my heart. I hope that in your lifetime you find the trust and safety to say outloud what’s in your heart.

You are seen.