To The FemmeMobile! Away!

{May 26, 2012}   Gay hair

So, I recently cut my hair (and put an awesome red stripe in the front, as well!). This happened about 3 months ago. Not too long after, I was standing in the midst of a party of mostly lesbians, and I realized… nearly everyone had short hair.

I went to Cancun on a lesbian resort, and… everyone had short hair.

I have gay hair.

It needs to be long again.

Don’t get me wrong: I have no problem with gay hair, and my haircut is super cute. But you know what? When it was chin-length it was longer than almost all the other gays I hung out with, and it got comments ALL THE TIME on how cute it was. Now I get compliments from straight people, and occasionally gay people, but mostly I think it looks like a lot of other gay haircuts so we’re used to seeing it. I don’t do well blending with the crowd.

I need a new haircut. It can’t be too long because I don’t want to deal with long hair (and Quin really doesn’t like long hair; since she has to look at me, I figure it’s only fair to take that into consideration!). I’m thinking chin-shoulder length. I have no idea what beyond that, but clearly I need a new cut. My life. She is hard. 😉

Hilariously, it does occur to me that I’ll likely be missed as gay again, if I grow my hair out. I mean, I’m still missed half the time now, but I’ll REALLY be overlooked. Oh well. It’s worth it!


I can’t believe I have a hair tag…


Nezu says:

Nice! I think longer is an excellent choice. Loose and wavy like the girl in your header there? That’d be pretty. Confound people’s expectations! Femme it up and own your gay hair. Femme is also gay. I have a book somewhere I need to give you, called “The History of Lesbian Hair.” If I still have it (it might have gone in one of my house moving purges) it’s yours.

Jen Stone says:

I had super short hair for a long time; I think I had it when you and I met on that utterly fascinating day at Venice Beach . . . It was very gay hair, and let’s face it, I’m not very gay; I’m like . . . middlin’-kind of gay. I actually got called “sir” one time, though. Amused the hell out of me, because it was while I was living in France, and I was wearing a fairly fitted tank top, and I am not of the small-chested variety of chick. The owner of the fast-food Japanese place below me was cashing me out and said, “Bien, monsieur …” before telling me my total. The guy that worked there who had a crush on me and I both looked at each other and gave each other a look.

I have fairly un-gay hair now. I’m slowly leaning it toward “edgy,” and now it’s a pretty drastic difference between the right side and the left side lengths. I went over to my parents’ today to pick up the carpet cleaner, and I’d taken a shower and made my hair look less like I’d taken a nap immediately after the shower, and my dad looks at me and says, “Why is your hair all on one side?”

“Um. Because it’s cut that way?”

Mom: “It’s intentional, honey. It wasn’t some freak accident.”

Dad: “Oh. Okay. I just wanted to make sure you meant for it to turn out like that.”

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