watch in the flesh they said
it’s an amazing show they said
no queer baiting they said
fascinating female characters they said
cutest otp they said
i caved in (pun intended)
they were right
Basically, everyone needs to watch In the Flesh
So I’m really feeling this,
but I’m also feeling that posts suggesting you watch In the Flesh should all have trigger warnings for suicide
because none of the ones I’ve seen recently have bothered
If you want and are able to be the kind of femme with scary winged eyeliner and weaponised glitter and “eyebrow game”and nine-inch heels of power and long polished nails that are like talons for slashing the patriarchy and clothes that cling to you and show just how confident you are in your body and who spends a fortune on lipstick because you feel your are a powerful glorious death princess who is worth a fortune then that is cool. You be that kind of femme.
But there are other options. You can be many different kinds of femme if you want.
Be the kind of anxious femme with oversized pink hoodies where you can snuggle and feel safe, because you are precious and deserve to feel safe and you don’t have to be beautiful and spiky to be safe.
Be the kind of chronically ill femme with lots of pretty pyjamas for the days or weeks or months or years when there will be no spoons for leaving bed, because you still have every right to express your gender while you’re lying down.
Be the kind of broke femme who finds pretty clothes second-hand sometimes, and who can’t find them sometimes, but doesn’t stop being proud to be feminine because of that.
Be the kind of single-mother femme who doesn’t even own eyeliner - because when the fuck is there time for that - but who is proud of the feminine role mothering she is in, by choice or circumstance, and knows that being a mummy is not anti-feminist.
Be the kind of autistic femme whose senses can’t deal with the texture of make up or the smell of nail polish, who wears baggy clothes because they are comfortable against her skin, but who wears her femininity as a badge of honour, who is proud of her girly (and non-girly) special interests and pink-and-purple stim toys and who wants to vomit on Simon Baron-Cohen’s shoes for his saying autism is an extreme form of masculinity.
Be the kind of ADHD femme who doesn’t have the executive functioning skills to shower more than twice a week, never mind put make up one every day, but who can still be a princess with messy hair and mismatched socks.
Be the kind of working femme who comes home after a 15-hour shift and doesn’t have time for beauty rituals, but does have time for snuggly pink dressing gowns.
Be the kind of femme who wears hiking boots instead of heels on a daily basis because they are comfortable but replaces the original shoelaces with glittery purple ones because the unwritten rule against comfortable things being pretty is a ridiculous rule (and no, I’m not putting in a poverty/disability/motherhood/whatever “excuse” for hiking boots - you don’t need a special intersectionality dispensation just to get to be feminine and still enjoy wearing items that are non-painful to wear).
Be the kind of hairy femme whose mini-skirt shows off the forests growing on her calves, because it shouldn’t be compulsory to remove part of your body - even only hair - to be proud of your femininity.
If that’s you, that is. Be yourself. Be authentic.