@fred-erick-frankenstein / fred-erick-frankenstein.tumblr.com
[Image description: A tumblr text post, edited blackout-poetry style using the colours of the bi flag, and the lesbian flag. Resulting text is below.]
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Just to let everyone know bi lesbians are valid welcome here. It's homo and bi to call yourself a bi lesbian. people did it in the 70's, today it fits lesbians attracted to men
Submitted by Anonymous
the opening ceremony and weight lifting at the first annual dyke olympics held in durham, north carolina, photographed by elana freedom, 1982
Image Descriptions:
Photo 1: Several women in greek-like attire, most with short hair, walk through the woods.
Photo 2: A black woman wearing sunglasses lifts a barbell over her head while a white woman spots her.
cowgirl lesbians? 🤠
100% yes.
oh...
[Image Description: a twitter thread of three tweets with quotes by female writers.
Tweet One: virginia woolf’s “yes yes yes i do like you. i am afraid to write the stronger word.” + emily dickinson’s “my heart is full of you, none other than you is in my thoughts, yet when i seek to say to you something not for the world, words fail me”
Tweet Two: +sylvia plath’s “it seems i must always write you letters that i can never send”
Tweet Three: +jane austen’s “if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more”]
do you have any wlw books that star women of colour?
i do!
The evil-queen-to-be looked into the magic mirror and asked: “Am I beautiful?”
The mirror had not been addressed in many years, hanging like an island in the center of the iron chamber. The curtain was gone though. The room smelled of dust. There was light somewhere, oh lords, there was light.
The mirror, a phantom outline on the surface, looked down. A girl stood, hooked nose, thin lips, dark hair the texture of crow’s feathers, and ruddy skin– both too pale and flushed all at once. Teeth like overlapping piano keys and body gangly as a newborn calf. She wore the finest gown of purple, heavy-set and dragging on the dirty floor.
Her chin wobbled. She had a determined set to her jaw but her cheeks were tear-stained, and eyes as red as daybreak, at least the types of daybreak the mirror could still remember. The mirror tilted it’s head.
“Am I beautiful?” The girl repeated and stomped her foot this time, but the tears didn’t stop. There was a purpling welt across her cheek and a bruise forming with a tinted yellow edge. She must be an island as well.
The mirror closed her eyes. She nodded. “You will be. You are.”
The girl’s eyes went large as entire skies, the type of skies the mirror could still remember at least. “Promise?” It was a child’s whisper.
“I do not make promises.” The mirror replied and the girl huffed.
“Fine.” The curtain returned.
—————–
“Am I beautiful?”
The evil-queen-to-be was taller now, growing into herself. Her cheeks had rounded and teeth slowly straightened out by small spells and larger ones. She had used a book she found, a moldy, stained thing, fleshy and dank. It was written in a language of people who lived and worked in caves and shadows.
The girl had returned to the mirror now, on the cusp of forgoing shorter hems and growing into the adult ones.
The mirror hummed. “You again. My girl.”
“You again, my mirror.” The girl narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a name?”
“No.” The mirror responded quietly. “Do you?”
The girl rolled her eyes. “I suppose you do not hear them yelling it through the hallways, Esme! Esme! Foolish, tricky girl, always with her books and always with her sullenness.”
“I do not hear them. No.”
The girl blinked several times. “Oh.”
“Esme.” The mirror tried out the name.
“You may call me Lady Esme.” She sniffed loudly and crossed her arms. “I’m nobility.”
“Of course.” The mirror bowed her head and sighed. “Ask your question then.”
The girl considered her for a long moment. “Am I beautiful?”
“Have you not asked before?”
The girl went red in the face and glared at her shoes. “You’re just like everyone else.” She twisted in place to leave.
“Of course,” The mirror hummed. “You are beautiful.”
She looked shyly back over her shoulder. “Really? You promise?”
“I do not make promises.”
The door slammed, but the curtain did not return.
——————–
“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” the young woman sang and skipped. “Who should I poison at the ball?” She carried a flower, but also a small book at her side. The mirror had watched her fill it with cramped tiny handwriting. She coded it through complex numerology at midnight, hidden.
It was filled with the secrets of the tomes she unearthed and more she made herself. “Mirror on the wall,” she kept singing. “Who should I poison with my comb?”
“You jest.” The mirror said softly. “But if you must poison one, poison the only son of the Duke of Engles. He plans to bed a scullery maid, and will not be easily deterred by no.”
The evil-queen-to-be stopped in place and faced the mirror. Her clever face and clever eyes were cold and sharp. She was even older now. “Noted.” She said thoughtfully and plucked at the flower in her hand. “This will be my first showing.”
“I know.” The mirror replied. “You will dance and make merry. Be careful of the wine, my lady.”
“How do you know so much anyway?” Esme squinted and leaned forward. “What exactly do you know?”
“I know everything reflected in the world of men and more.” The mirror said and watched the light fall across the floor. She still wasn’t facing the window, though she longed to.
“But how?” Esme insisted.
“I am old.” She said simply.
Esme rolled her eyes. “Well, I could have guessed that.”
“But also ageless. Time cannot touch me, nor can I touch it. But I can peer through its many veins into the greater tapestry.”
Esme tilted her chin up thoughtfully, mind at work. “So,” she said with a cat-like smirk. “I really will be beautiful.”
“You are. You have been. You will be.”
Esme huffed and turned in place. “I must prepare for my debut on the market.” She grinned and looked over her shoulder. “And who should I marry there, my mirror?”
The mirror did not blink. “The king.”
Esme’s eyes lost their mischief, she frowned, and she closed the door softly.
—————
“They’ll burn me, they’ll burn me!” Esme paced back and forth, still wearing a luscious green gown with bell-shaped sleeves. It was torn in places, sullied. “Dammit, they know!’
Pete is best known as the tall, short tempered energetic guitarist and writer of almost all of the songs by The Who. He was the member who came up with their trademark move of smashing the instruments at the end of each show, and became a voice for youth at the time with one of their many hits 'Talkin 'Bout My Generation.' He came out in his memoir as well as an interview in 1989, saying he was bisexual, and also said he identified as both a woman and a man, saying: "I know how if feels to be a woman because I am a woman, and I won't be classified as just a man."
Lead singer and writer for the band Blondie, she's a bisexual woman well known for her colourful taste in fashion and unmistakable voice. Her musical career started out in the punk genre but she is best known for writing and singing some of the most popular new wave songs including Heart of Glass, Call Me, and One Way or Another.
Often cited as the face of American blues, folk, soul and rock, Janis Joplin is WLW and had numerous relationships with men and women in her life. She was famed for her distinctive husky voice and powerful and captivating stage presence that left audiences stunned.
The guitarist in 60s British invasion group The Kinks revealed he was bisexual in his autobiography in 1997. The more outgoing of the Davies brothers in the band, of which he had a difficult and fiery relationship with, Dave also experimented with makeup and women's clothing in the 60s and 70s. Many people claim his riffs were the very earliest beginnings of heavy metal.
Ray Davies wrote and sung most of The Kink's songs, including their most successful song Lola, which is about a transgender woman. Although quieter and more laid back than his brother, he does not have a quiet tongue either. His endless brotherly quarrels with Dave continue to this day, although they live next door to one another. He labels himself as bisexual.
As well as playing Bass for the late 80s indie rock band The Pixies and fronting the 90s band The Breeders, Kim Deal has studied and worked in cellular biology. She has said that she is asexual and also identifies as a feminist. Kim Deal has a unique philosophy in recording music, as she uses no modern means of production such as digital recording, computers, and auto tuning.
Recognised as the inventor of rock and roll, Tharpe was a pioneer for combining blues and gospel to create a unique sound partnered with her electric guitar as early as the late 30s. She is WLW. Her relationship with Marie Knight became a controversial topic when it was discovered by the public, especially from her religious background.
Singer and songwriter of the popular heavy metal band Judas Priest, Rob was initially uneasy about coming out as gay due to heavy metal's often homophobic following, but was surprised when he was overwhelmingly supported. He now calls himself the 'stately homo of heavy metal' and speaks openly about the ongoing struggles that LGBT+ people face.
In 1971, a tiny 5"4 Marc Boland performed in his band T-Rex on Top Of The Pops wearing glitter under his eyes. This is widely recognised as the starting point of the glam rock movement. He had relationships with men and women in his life, and close friends have described him as being bisexual. He was proudly Jewish and he became a style icon of the 70s for his corkscrew hair, colourful fashion and whimsical happy-go-lucky attitude.
Lou Reed's infamously dry humour and deadpan voice set him apart from other rock stars of his time. As a child his parents put him in a mental hospital and he was given electric shock therapy to try and 'cure' his interest in men. He grew in popularity in the 60s as The Velvet Underground's lead singer and guitarist and went on to have a successful solo career, where he frequently wrote and sung about LGBT people. Reed is MLM and also Jewish!
A list of surprising things
1. I rarely ever see pictures of Indian women in suits. So here’s one.
2. This was my dad’s suit. If I liked wearing my mom’s sarees as much as I like wearing my dad’s suits… Well let’s just say I’d have a lot of sarees to wear.
3. Ladies, we look hella good in suits (not surprising) We should wear them more often.
oh man i never told you. recently we went to the albertina art gallery and in the contemporary wing we saw this painting, “nacht der skorpione”
and we were fucking blown away by it, like audible gasping from everyone, it’s almost as tall as the room and incredibly expressive and impressive
and after having walked around looking at the work of 99% male artists and their endless studies dedicated to The Female Form for so goddamn long my very first thought upon seeing it was “this was painted by a woman”, so i walk closer and sure enough, i was right, her name is xenia hausner.
and then i look at it for a moment longer and my chest swells because these are intense characters with internal lives and that is what makes them attractive and my second thought is “this was not painted by a straight woman”
and i mean i can’t say anything for sure but i looked her up and
and nobody else picked up on this in the original painting? when i told them they were like “what, why, because of the masculine (???) brush strokes”? they were not shaken to their very core by the authenticity of it? what i’m trying to say is gaydar is extremely real and straight people extremely do not have it.
World hard and cold...tiddy soft and warm
I’m tired of seeing posts like “bi women can’t use butch/femme because they can’t understand the fact that its a complex identity and expression of gender outside of aesthetics” for me, being butch isn’t just “I’m a masculine woman uwu” and its irritating seeing people assume bi women can’t see butch/femme as anything deeper than aesthetic. It feels more comfortable to say “I’m butch” rather than “i’m a woman” because that’s how i see myself. People act like bi women can’t possibly understand the butch/femme dynamic because we’re inherently “heteronormative.” They act like we can’t have complicated relationships to gender and being a woman because we “perform for men.” They erase our part in butch/femme history because they look at us as being traitors to the sapphic community. Being butch is the only thing that makes me feel good about being a woman. The way i interact with people is different when i’m identifying as butch. The way I interact with WOMEN is different when I identify as butch. I feel more confident and comfortable, i don’t HAVE to perform femininity and i know that there are people who will be attracted to me for being butch. They love my body hair, my strong hands, my muscular arms, my short hair, my unwillingness to submit to men, etc. Growing up I felt “ugly” because all these traits are seen as unattractive but calling myself butch now feels like coming home, in a place where i’m allowed to be those things. Its a big “fuck off” to everyone who tells me how i should present my gender. Its a “fuck off” to men who think that because i’m attracted to them, i’m supposed to perform for them. Its who i am at my core, its putting my needs at the back burner for any woman, putting my safety on the line to protect people i love. Its embracing my strength and masculinity, knowing its okay to be butch. Any man who wants to be with me has to wholeheartedly accept that being butch is who i am, that i won’t water down my expression to make them more comfortable. I will reclaim my history and you cannot stop me from coming back home to my roots.
i stake my claim in dumb scooby doo memes
velma may have a 4.0 but as soon as daphne suggests doing her makeup but says “dont take your glasses off you need them to see” all braincells go out the window
Celebrating Mermay with a queer, Edwardian, seaside romance. I painted this perhaps 7 years ago, but i just changed the frame to add the title (the frame is a vintage music sheet, and it had the original title before.) Available as a print in my Society6 shop.
Trans lesbians of the 1960′s.
