[Lesbian author Jeanette] Winterson... talks about being identified as the “homosexual authoress” in her small village. “I suppose I should be writing racy novels in a tweed skirt and brogues, but then everybody else around here wears those.” This calls to mind my own experience of lesbian rustication here in New England, where everyone dresses like a butch dyke, even the gay men, which is sometimes confusing.This statement also very aptly applies to Alaska, if you're lucky enough to be outside of Anchorage. Having been mistaken for a gay man (COME ON) in both urban and rural settings*, this little blurb reached out and grabbed me. The number of layers a gender-ambiguous person wears is, in my experience, directly proportionate to the incidence of incorrect pronoun/address usage (see also: don't call me "Bro"). Relatedly, I've been getting some interesting looks on the light rail when I bust out the Michelle Tea.
Back to Bechdel, though. Perhaps I've already gone on at great length about her interview in the Comics Journal #282, wherein she speaks to the satisfaction one can derive from chopping wood and her desire to do so naked (which happens to be her cover illustration for that same issue). The entire interview, which I re-read from time to time to validate my need to demonstrate my rather bitchin' vocabulary, is fantastic, but what stands out to me is how well she articulated the need to connect bodily to things outside one's head. One's head is a difficult place.
Anyway, Alison Bechdel is rad, and now her radness graces my RSS feed.
*and, most recently, been mistaken for a transguy on a plane. (I appreciate your coolness with that but again, COME ON. Also, don't ever inquire about the "hormone thing" EVER on a plane to anyone in any context. What compels people to speak sometimes?)

