I'm a girly type of girl--I also happen to like (specific types of) girls. At least some of the time. I know I've made that pretty clear in a lot of my blog and discussion board posts. But I wanted to go into more depth about my handle here on Blogspot, so now that the Ethnography is done and over, I feel more at liberty to share some things about myself. :)
We're gonna have a nice, cozy li'l sit-down, and Katie will explain what High Femme means to her:
WARNING!!!! This blog post was not sanctioned or prompted by an assignment, so I might or might not use language that is not......so squeaky clean, shall we say?.....as it would be had this been a class blog post.
So...since I wear the slinky lingerie, the high heels, the makeup and the girly clothes in my relationship, and because I enjoy these things, and generally act in a feminine way, I identify as "femme." My Mrs. wears men's jeans, adorable li'l men's cardigans, vintage jackets and ties, and we just went to Heimie's Haberdashery in St. Paul to get her a new fancy shirt--she is "butch." She also identifies as "andro," which is short for androgynous. She would not, could not in a house--would not, could not with a mouse--wear makeup or even know how to attempt it. She doesn't bat her eyelashes, she doesn't like dresses or any of the like.
But I do. A lot. A LOT lot. I obsessively watch youtube tutorials on makeup application, how to wear scarves, how to do my hair, how to shop for vintage dresses. I am essentially a damn drag queen--but with real working lady parts. So, I take "femme" to a whole other level. I am "high femme." A garden-variety femme is mostly like a housewife who has kinda let herself go--they usually don't wear makeup, they wear their hair long but they don't do much with it or keep up with color jobs, and they wear women's clothes, but they're not making choices based on fashion. A high femme is 100% in love with how she looks, how she feels, and the reactions people have to her as a woman. We care deeply (maybe too deeply?) about how we look, and we don't give a flying f*ck if we make our girlfriends wait while we apply one last coat of mascara, or paw through our perfume bottles to find just the right one for the occasion. I see my kind as the soft, sweet, beautiful and alluring women everyone seems drawn to, and we're proud to be on our girlfriends' arms as eye candy--as long as our intelligence is also acknowledged. ;)
On another note--I wore full, dramatic makeup, complete with false eyelashes, to work today. People who shopped in the store I work in didn't listen to me the way they do when I'm wearing less dramatic makeup--they treated me like I was a dumb blonde. For someone like me, this is obviously frustrating, so I found myself trying to make the most erudite, eloquent jokes I could cull together as I teased customers, and wording my product recommendations to them in the most I'm-really-very-smart-please-don't-let-the-false-eyelashes-fool-you sort of way. I sounded like a pompous ass, I'm sure. It did, however, make especially the men I helped look at me differently--their eyes kind of opened wide and their jaws hovered mere inches above the floor when the blonde bimbo (for all they knew) started talking to them about having enjoyed calculus and virology classes when they asked the nice bimbo about herself as their wives shopped! HA! Game, set, and match to pretty girls with brains!
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