“Give us space in order to grow. Give us space in order to transform. Give us space to be butterflies, so that we all can fly together.” 

This quote from Toni-Michelle Williams, the Director of SolutionsNotPunishment Collaborative, illustrates the struggle trans and gender non-conforming people go through as a result of living within the confines of a heteronormative society. Williams is among the Black trans women in Atlanta organizing calls for policy change, and the decriminalization of gender. Her organization has successfully challenged anti-trans legislation, which she says has led to greater victories for the Atlanta trans community. 

“We embody leadership development practices, direct action, and transformative campaigns that focus on policy changes affecting not only LGBTQ+ people, but all Black folks,” says Williams.

The fight for transgender liberation has been a decades-long process met with opposition, subordination, and persecution. This fight, spearheaded by Black and Brown trans organizers, aims to tackle the systemic demolition of the queer community. Day in and day out, trans people are targeted by the law. We experience severe hatred at both local and national levels. Our access to visibility is stifled by the most violent forces of society, telling us that we should not exist. This crisis, which has accounted for the murders of at least 18 Black trans women in 2019 alone, continues to plague our homes, our families, and our social institutions. It is for this reason that we have been fighting since the first brick was thrown at Stonewall. The fight continued on September 28th, with the first-ever National Transgender Visbility March on Washington D.C. 

Organizers, like Toni-Michelle, mobilized nearly 3,000 people in a campaign to engage elected officials in a dialogue about the perils of our community. Hailed as a “therapeutic” experience, the march brought together trans people from across the country, ferociously crying out for equality and unity. It was a grand call of attention to the lack of conversation surrounding the murders of trans women, and most specifically Black trans women, in America. 

“It’s a critical, political moment where we all have come to the point of similar longing. That’s a longing to belong; it’s a longing to be seen, heard, and to be able to be fully in our dignity” - Toni-Michelle Williams

Trans people are disproportionately affected by incarceration and poverty, which keeps the lesser privileged members of the community susceptible to violence. Nearly one in six transgender Americans—and one in two black transgender people—has been to prison. That is why in Atlanta civil action coordinators are arresting the attention of our local government and demanding better treatment for the city’s Black trans population. 

The Racial Justice Action Center supports two organizing projects, Women on the Rise and the Solutions Not Punishment Collaborative.

“We have done amazing work in the city. We got reform back in 2014, when there was a banishment ordinance proposed that would banish trans folks, and specifically Black trans sex workers, from the city of Atlanta. SNaP Co formed as a coalition, which has grown tremendously in the past 5 years” (Williams). 

Toni-Michelle Williams

Since then, the collab has repealed sixteen state ordinances through a criminal justice reform package back in 2017, leading to the community victory of closing down the city jail. Their campaign, called the Communities Over Cages: Close the Jail ATL Campaign, resulted in the passage of legislation to close the Atlanta City Detention Center (ACDC) and repurpose it into a Center for Wellness & Freedom. 

This was a triumphant victory, seeing as this was the very same detention center that was exposed for inhumane conditions against TGNC people in 2016. Her organization is now also leading the call to decriminalize gender and repeal or reclassify 40 “quality of life” offenses that target poor people of color and have been comprising the vast majority of the jail’s population in recent years. 

Williams aims to remind the public that this is an issue of shared interest for everyone in the Black community. Though a lot of the hatred is a result of restrictive ideologies adopted by cis Blacks from white institutions, there is no excuse for refusing to unlearn these behaviors.

“SNaP Co has been an experiment of seeing what it’s like to come together across all identities, what it’s like to be in a principal struggle together, and what it’s like to have breakdowns and come back to each other. How are we practicing openness and connection, for the sake of the work? It’s going to take all of us in order to survive.

In the battle against systemic transphobia, it is crucial to take action before it’s too late. 

And it’s already too late. 

The lives of at least 150 Black transgender women have been taken in the past 5 years. This genocide cannot continue while our nation’s leaders stand idly by. 

We must enact change.

We must scream.

We must march. 

We must hold our government, and the people around us, accountable for the neglect and mistreatment we are subjected to.

—

Ivana Fischer is the Culture Editor of WUSSY and a film and media enthusiast who specializes in cultural studies. You can find her across all socials @iv.fischer

Atlanta has been driving the music industry nationally for well over a decade. From top charting hip-hop, to trending indie acts that subvert age-old music industry standards, Atlanta has had the sauce. Everyone’s favorite full-time energy drink and part-time culture curator, Red Bull, has picked up on that and is bringing their Red Bull Music Festival to Atlanta to spotlight local key players in the Atlanta music scene, along with national headliners to top it all off.

The Red Bull Music Festival Atlanta runs November 1st thru the 14th at various Atlanta venues.

Check out WUSSY’s picks for the must-attend events below and find the full schedule and tickets HERE !

OHSO’s Bounce Dat - 10PM on Nov 7th, 2019 @ MJQ

If you’re a fan of ATL nightlife, then you’ve heard of Bounce Dat. Known for the frenetic energy and electic line-up of DJs, OHSO’s popular dance party is bringing it all the Red Bull Music Festival. With a roster of hallmark DJs and taking place at the notorious MJQ, expect to be on the dancefloor all night. Featured at Bounce Dat is Jsport, Atlanta- based DJ dynamo and co-founder and curator MORPH, a queer Black owner nightlife experience. 

Yung Baby Tate: Camp - 8PM on Nov 9th, 2019 @ The Masquerade

Yung Baby Tate has owned 2019. Riding off the success of her project GIRLS, Tate has collaborated with other rising rappers like Asian Doll and special guest Mulatto. She even got a co-sign from Nicki Minaj after her remix of Minaj’s “Megatron” caught traction this summer. Camp, her event with the festival will feature other regional greats like fan favorite Bbymutha.

Teyana Taylor: House of Petunia - 8PM on Nov 14th, 2019 @ West End Production Park

If you’ve been to a queer function in the last year, you’ve heard “WTP” - the highlight from Teyana Taylor’s 2018 album K.T.S.E. Taylor is bringing that energy and her ballroom antics to the closeout show of Red Bull Music Festival Atlanta. Atlanta is a ballroom mecca, so Taylor would be wise to involve the iconic houses here, as well as her House of Petunia. Imagine a mini-ball with Teyana Taylor performing live. Can you believe?

—

TAYLOR ALXNDR (the/she) is a underground queer icon, drag performer, musician, and community organizer.

Have you ever felt the chilling embrace of a stranger’s grip around your waist as they not-so-inconspicuously pass by you in a club? 

What about the unpleasant experience of having some drunken show-goer explore your body with their hands, under the impression that you are simply there to be touched on or gawked at?

Have you ever been made to feel like a trinket on a shelf, or a novelty toy, or a frou-frou play-thing by people who just can’t seem to keep their paws off of you?

These are things I experience most, if not all, of the time when I go out in public. As a six-foot-five glamazon with legs all the way up to my--well, you know the rest--it’s very common for people to feel entitled to my personal space. I am often invaded upon or picked at, like a frog in an adolescent’s dissection kit. My body is, quite literally, an easy target. There’s something very inviting about the presence of a towering individual that people can’t seem to get enough of. Tack on the role of being a performer, or the mere fact of me being a woman, and it’s game over.

I am constantly on display when I enter public spaces, but it’s not just statuesque beauties who experience this type of behavior. As I jokingly type these self-aggrandizing statements, I can’t help but recall that these are excuses I’ve been given for having my body infringed upon. Many trans people are made to feel like we have little-to-no agency over our bodies when we are out. We are, in a word, stripped of our ability to go unnoticed, and untouched, due to a societal fascination with trans bodies.  

A lot of this behavior stems from the idea that trans people, and trans women in particular, are objects of desire. We are “asking for it” when we are in public, regardless of if we are wearing revealing clothing or not. We are “begging for attention,” despite our best efforts to blend into the background. Add to it the notion that “trans women aren’t even real women to begin with,” and you will hear the rhetoric that we should be so lucky to be disrespected in the way that our cis counterparts are. The sheer idea of us being is taken as encouragement, an invitation, or a challenge. But this is not a highschool biology class. We are not frogs to be peeled open and violated. 

Take your pre-school teacher’s advice: keep your hands to yourself! Unless it’s consensual, of course. :)

Watch as I talk more about this topic in the newest installment of the Trans Agenda.

—

Ivana Fischer is the Culture Editor of WUSSY and a film and media enthusiast who specializes in cultural studies. You can find her across all socials @iv.fischer

PHOTO: Julie Orlick

Lots of music traffics in being sad, but rarely does it sound as unique as the tunes from Water From Your Eyes. The Brooklyn based duo of Nate Amos (he/him) from the band This is Lorelei and Rachel Brown (they/them) from Thanks For Coming have been making music for a few years now. Their new album Somebody Else’s Song has everything from heartfelt twee, to driving dance tracks, to a wordless acapella song. They last anywhere from 1-10 mins long, and are built from skeletal loops that the Nate plays live with help of bassist/keyboardist Michael Kolb (he/him) while Rachel sings. The overall mood is melancholy, hence the band name’s reference to tears. 

Unlike many “experimental” projects, the weirdness of Water From Your Eyes doesn’t feel artful or contrived.  A former romantic couple, their intimacy makes the pair easy collaborators unafraid to share weird ideas. The pair have a half abandoned concept album that’s a slash fiction narrative between characters of Criminal Minds and Star Trek. Much of their work has resulted from casual collaboration, following through on jokey ideas to arrive at something more profound.  

The group found their footing at the DIY venue The Glove, known for its unbridled creativity. Now no longer operational, it was a place where a band like WFYE was among the more conventional acts, despite Rachel wailing on the a kazoo during their song “All A Dance.” The pair come across as the chill stoners in the back of film class, always ready with a self-deprecating laugh and on offbeat reference.  

We sat down one rainy Wednesday night at the cafe/bar/art space Flowers for All Ocassions to discuss thier new album, unconventional stage presence, and being queer in 2019.   

PHOTO: Julie Orlick

The lyric “When I wake up, I am running, and my laces come undone.” pops up on the track “Somebody Else's Song” and on “bad in the sun”. Can you talk about that lyric?

What are you running to or from in the song?

Nate: Nowhere *laughs*That song is a combination of a couple like dream impressions, like an anxiety dream. I think about that like you’re in a desert somewhere running on this highway with no one around and you’re fucking tired and your shoes keep coming untied and eventually you get to where you are going.

Rachel: Whenever I sing it I think of a city *laughs* and I run down into a subway station, or usually it’s a train station from a Studio Ghibli film.

Like the Spirited Away train station?

Rachel: Yeah like that mixed with the train station from Grave of the Fireflies, so that’s interesting that you think it’s (in) a desert.

Nate: Well not a desert more like a canyon, somewhere with tall walls. 

I think I read somewhere that wfyr started as a joke band? 

Rachel: What happened was that summer 2016 Nate shows me New Order for the first time. I’ve heard New Order but I never knew it was New Order and I was enamored. I was like, “Why don’t we make a band that sounds like this?” and then he had a song in two days. 

They were all songs from the viewpoints of animals, like different experiences animals would have.

Nate: Different sad animal situations

Rachel: Pretty much, so we made that album for fun. It wasn’t a joke, we were very serious. *laughs* Very serious about sounding like New Order. We both write very personal music so this was not a personal album or songs about us per se. They were songs about feelings anyone could feel, sadness, sad dance music. *laughs*

Nate: I think this album is the first album that is confessional. This is the first WFYE album that feels very personal. 

I wanted to talk about your stage presence.

*both Nate and Rachel laugh*

PHOTO: Julie Orlick

I think the show at The Broadway was the first time I’d seen y’all on a stage. Normally y’all are on the ground.

Rachel: On the floor of The Glove? Yeah exactly.

Nate: Why weren’t we on the ground? Usually we do that.

Rachel: I like playing on the ground. I think it’s fun. I have no problem playing on the ground.

What do you enjoy about the ground?

Rachel: I try and forget there are a bunch of people (watching us play). If we’re not on a stage It’s like alright we’re all just in the room together. We’re all just here, hanging out. I’m singing but it’s fine, it’s like a dance party ... in my head. *laughs*

Nate: It feels more personal for sure. 

Rachel, Is that where your habit of wearing sunglasses onstage came from, to forget you’re performing?

Rachel: Yea. I wore them for the first show and I was so nervous the first time we performed. I performed as Thanks For Coming but I stare on my hand on the guitar and don’t lookup. (with this band) I couldn’t stare at the microphone.  *laughs* There was nothing to stare at and I was like “oh they can see my eyes, they might know where I’m looking! That’s terrifying. And then I might make eye contact and that’s distracting, like should I say something? I can’t cuz I’m singing.

I love that in the video for Adeline you kept the sunglasses on. How did that video come about? 

Rachel: I love Abbie’s work. What happened is that they were asked to use a song of ours for their reel to send to animation studios, and I was like “yeah! Would it be possible if you made a video for us” and she was like for sure. 

I like letting people do their thing with videos. I’ll have some opinions but for the most part I’m like thank you so much!

Does this album seem like a very natural progression for y’all?

Nate: Everything up to this point has been exploring different styles and figuring out what we want to do. Through that process, all the different albums have been character pieces in a way. Long Days No Dreams was just like POP pop, and there are two kinda crazy eps that have a very definitive sound.

Rachel: Like a 90s indie rock album. *laughs* The first Water From Your Eyes just sounds like New Order.  

Nate: This one about to come out actually covers all those different things. So it feels like the first fully incubated album, and the other ones were just messing around practicing to make this one. 

Y’all are pretty low-key about your status as a band with queer members in it. Rachel , do you find most of the people you play within the BK music scene are queer in someway, or do you find you’re the only queer person in a lot of the spaces you’re in? 

Rachel: Playing in New York I don’t feel like the only queer person. Most places here, I feel lucky that I don’t feel like that. Gender is a very personal thing to me. It differs for everyone how they feel about it but for me I feel like I don’t identify as a woman or a man and I don’t really identify with any gender. It doesn’t really….

Gender/queerness is not something you think about all the time?

Rachel: I’ll think about it but by myself when I’m having an identity crisis in my bed. *laughs*

It’s just me! I don’t really feel attached to… anything.  *laughs* Oh god...

It’s a deeper thing.

Rachel: I’m biracial as well and I just feel very in-between in terms of gender, I just feel like a very in-between person. It’s just who I am. I still have questions but they’re for me. 

It’s nice to be in a place where it doesn’t feel like I’m alone it that. I do have conversations with other people who are non-binary and other queer people and what it means to be queer, especially in this day and ages.

Especially in the indie rock scene too where there are so many queer-seeming people that are heterosexual and cisgender.

Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not gonna question someone’s attachment to the queer identity. I don’t even really correct people on my pronouns anymore. It takes a lot of time to explain to people who don’t know and most of the time that’s not how I want to spend my time.

It’s not worth wasting your time on those people

Exactly! I know there are people who will understand and I’ll take the time to tell them about it but some people it’s gonna go right over their heads and what does it matter? I’ll respond to any name *laughs* if someone seems like they’re trying to talk to me I’ll be like what’s up?

Trans women and men get physically assaulted and face violence that I don’t. I don’t feel the need to talk about it (pronouns) when there are so many other queer issues to talk about besides my identity.

—

Mo Wilson is a writer and sometimes DJ living in Brooklyn. He also throws indie rock/punk shows with the booking collective Booked By Grandma and loves plastic jewelry. You can find him on Twitter @sadgayfriendx and Instagram at @djgaypanic

PHOTO: Demetrius W

To get a glimpse into the roots and future of Atlanta soul music, look no further than Yani Mo.

Yani Mo is a singer-songwriter, rapper and silver-smooth vocalist from Lithonia, GA. Rooted in the South’s history of hip-hop, R&B, rap and jazz, Yani slips seamlessly between the roles of poet and storyteller.  She operates between the space of an old soul, a vessel of wisdom, and uncaged free spirit, a symbol of strength, sensitivity and liberation. Mundane moments, in her hands, become the catalyst for reflection and self-defining catharsis.  She takes the emotional grandeur of life and boils it down into simple and witty lyrics, both matter-of-fact and earnest.

We had the pleasure of asking her about her creative process, her Southern influence, and more.

PHOTO: Demetrius W

PHOTO: Demetrius W

Your lyrics have this wonderful quality to them where the listener can completely empathize with you as you experience these profound moments in your life. There is an instant familiarity I feel with the stories in your work that allows me to easily tap into the emotional complexity and depth of the song. You also flex some linguistic muscle with your wordplay and vivid sensual imagery that elevates your music even further.  What can you tell us about your writing process?

Wow. First, thank you! I’ve been telling people since I was a kid, I make music that I want to hear. So when it hits home and resonates with folks in such personal ways, i’m always grateful. And surprised, quite frankly. 

My writing process always starts with an emotion. If there’s a certain feeling that’s been sitting with me--that I haven’t been able to shake, I have to get it out in writing. A lot of those feelings are love and relationship centered. Or nostalgic. Plenty of them are self-reflective, me contemplating my place in the world--my smallness. I’m very specific in my writing. I pull from events that I’ve experienced. Life is so fleeting, I guess I just like to immortalize certain moments and feelings in a real honest way. 

What are some of your biggest influences for your sound?

My sound has evolved so much over the years. These days its so hard to pinpoint. But i’d be remiss if I didn’t mention TLC. Specifically Left Eye. Her life and music was such a huge inspiration to me when I first started creating and recording. And then there’s Outkast, Slum Village, J Dilla, and Nujabes. Brandy, India, Lauryn and Erykah. Bon Iver and Kings of Leon. Kirk Franklin, Michael Jackson. I could really go on. All have been super influential over the years. 

Atlanta seems to play a central role in your songs, almost becoming a character in itself. You’ve been a staple in the Atlanta music scene for a while now.  What does Atlanta, or perhaps the South at large, mean to you as an individual and also as an artist?

I like the way you put that. It really has become a character in itself. A lover in my own homegrown romance. I’m so thankful to be from here. Both my folks are from Ohio and sometimes I think how different everything could’ve been if they never moved down here. Atlanta is a very special place. I love how every side has a specific energy and culture to it. The South may not be the most “progressive” region yet somehow we were gifted this hub of booming creativity and Black wealth and excellence. Atlanta is constantly pushing the envelope and giving the world more to be in awe of. It’s so fucking dope to be a part of.

I’m gonna be far more than an Atlanta staple someday, but Lord knows I’m thankful I can say these are my roots. 

What advice would you have to aspiring songwriters or rappers on the craft of writing?

Comparison is your worst enemy. Experiment. Be consistent. Fuck the numbers, do what you feel--authenticity goes a long way. 

See Yani Mo Live in Fabnormal: Atlanta Queer Art Showcase at the Moxy Hotel on Friday, November 15th, presented by Rigel Gemini and Cameron Lee. Tickets available here.

—

Nicholas Goodly is the writing editor of Wussy Magazine.

Y’all the decade is almost over and queer people were EVERYWHERE. We won the right to marry and celebrated by showing out in every musical genre imaginable. In Lady Gaga’s freaky bisexual wake, Top 40 was left amenable to queer artists like Troye Sivan, Kehlani, and Hayley Kiyoko. Tegan and Sara even started making dance-pop! Bands like Hunx and His Punx, G.L.O.S.S., Downtown Boys, and Priests made the mosh pit safe for queers again. Lesbians totally killed the straight white man’s dominance over indie rock and we glimpsed the future through a drug-fueled haze while raving with Sophie. 

We’ve celebrated by making a playlist filled with essential queer music of the past decade. There isn’t a lot of music by straight female pop divas, and if you have a problem with that kindly read this article or just face the Wussy Guillotine. This playlist IS filled with songs by queer artists* in every genre imaginable, from harsh noise to pristine pop. There are songs you know and probably songs you’ve never heard of, but they’re all essential queer artists who carved out space for themselves in the past decade. Feel free to @ us on Twitter and Instagram with anything we’ve missed (unlikely), and bring on the 2020s! 

*There are two exceptions to the queer artists rule. The first is Robyn’s “Call Your Girlfriend,” which I’ve seen screamed in too many bars filled with lesbians to not include. The second is Charli XCX’s “Vroom Vroom” which counts as Queer because of Sophie’s involvement. Also, Poppers 2. 

—

Mo Wilson is a writer and sometimes DJ living in Brooklyn. He also throws indie rock/punk shows with the booking collective Booked By Grandma and loves plastic jewelry. You can find him on Twitter @sadgayfriendx and Instagram at @djgaypanic

WUSSY is proud to present new work by Atlanta poet, Henry Koskoff. If you would like to send in a writing submission, please contact Nicholas Goodly.

Judas

My love, my honey-baked boy, your eyes tilt
with mischief tonight. At times like these

I wonder who wrote you: Judas, bad guy,
festering body of doubt. I want to ride

around town with you in your motorbike,
gripping the marble pecs beneath your linen.

From behind, I see the crest of streetlight
form on your hooked nose— don’t stop. Let’s blow lines

with the devil, let’s double down on sin,
let’s indulge in a haircut, let’s go to

work on Sunday and then work on ourselves.
I’m a strange dog; I’ll heed your beck and call.

My iambs have iambs, and I am
your disciple— your number one fan!

Ode to Uncrustables

When you lay your teeth on their pillow
they answer with a story. They say,
you took the right path sweetie, and here is
a brief history of peanut farming in Georgia.
And I’m chewing through all different types
of softness and I’m chewing and I’m eating
the machine’s hands as they stitch up the
gummy circumference so that people like me
don’t have to waste their time with the burns
of bread. Oh god, oh lord, I’m such a fool
to be eating this at my age but the inside is
sexy and fun like a party in a sponge house.
It fits into my palm and I realize there’s no Top
or Bottom to an uncrustable, because every part
is the same. In my dark room I say:

“Circle capsule, I want to cross-section you,
bread butter jelly butter bread, the sweet eclipse
rising. I want to sit on you and feel you implode
beneath me, your genius thin layers all mixing
into a remarkable stew. I’ll let you thaw and then
indulge until my throat pains, until I’m at
concession stands, little league games, purple
nurples and uncrustables all Saturday morning,
then on Wednesday I open my fire truck and see you—
I thought I ate you. You say hey, your voice all raspy
from sleeping, your eyes relaxed into their own
softness, so I nuzzle you in my cheek until we’re
sleeping together, so intimate, just a quiet moment
for the two of us.”

—

Henry Koskoff is currently a first year student at Emory University. He tends to write poetry, essays, and some fiction on a daily basis (in the Notes app on his phone.)

As the decade comes to a close -- the metaphoric dumpster fire that is the current American political sphere still smoking in the distance -- the only way we can get through the utter hell that 2017-2019 brought with it is to think of the small joys that we did get to experience. And do you know what really sparks some fucking joy for me? Television. 

The 2010s were a doozy for all things culture: streaming sites really hit their stride and their productions began winning major awards, binging TV became even more exhilarating than binge drinking (so much so that “Netflix and chill” earned its coded meaning for casual sex) the hashtag took over from the pound key, and everyone dared to dab. 

Even while we were in our respective internet spirals, swiping through our neighbors like we’d never love again, and crying into a vat of Arctic Zero because YOLO, there were some major moments in television that started highlighting more than the Kardashians’ cheekbones. From 2010-2019, major network TV shows, cable giants like HBO, and many streaming services started putting queer characters and queer issues at stage left if not front and center of the storylines. 

Check your gaydar, grab your fidget spinner, because yas, we are about to twerk all the way through the decade’s most important queer breakthroughs on TV. 

Trans is Beautiful: Shows that Highlighted the Trans Experience 

Orange is the New Black

Orange is the New Black (Netflix)

Premiere date: July 11th, 2013

While Orange is the New Black does focus on a number of queer characters, perhaps the most important representation that creator Jenji Kohan focused on in the show was that of Sophia Burset’s. Famously played by the openly trans Laverne Cox, Cox became the first openly transgender person to be nominated for a Primetime Emmy award following the first season of the show. Cox’s inclusion in a show watched by millions became a trailblazing moment for trans actors and activists moving forward. 

Pose (FX)

Premiere date: June 3rd, 2018

God bless Ryan Murphy for his big, Queer brain and everything he’s given us as viewers. But even more so, god bless the cast of Pose for their authenticity and slayage. The show’s cast is almost exclusively comprised of trans actors playing trans characters, which we have been patiently waiting for because many trans characters in Hollywood have historically been played by cis actors. Pose’s plot line begins in the New York City ball scene during the AIDS crisis, and powerfully shows how vital it is for queer people to create their own families, made especially prevalent in the world of drag. This show also brought us the goddesses in MJ Rodriguez, Dominique Jackson, Indya Moore, and Billy Porter. 

The OA (Netflix)

Premiere date: December 16th, 2016

I for one am still mourning the loss of a perfect sci-fi/occult series, The OA. Written and created by Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij, the series’ two seasons dealt with near-death experiences, the multiverse theory, and the simplest of its themes: friendship. Beyond the philosophical, The OA introduced the first transgender Asian-American actor to television in Ian Alexander. Both Alexander and the character he plays, Buck, are transgender. Marling has said that her vision for Buck’s likeness was concretely trans and Asian-American; Alexander responded to an open call and won the role. 

Tales of the City (Netflix)

Premiere date: June 7th, 2019 

Tales of the City, which featured a multitude of queer identities in its fourth reboot, did some things right, and some arguably wrong in its latest revival. While the show, and the series of novels it was adapted from, has always been about the queer experience in San Francisco, specifically at the iconic house on Barbary Lane. The show’s matriarch, originally played by Olympia Dukakis, a cis actor, reprised her role as Anna Madrigal despite some pushback from viewers who wanted to see an actual trans person cast. The show did manage to save themselves more criticism by casting trans actors Jen Richards and Daniela Ysela (of A Fantastic Woman fame) and trans and nonbinary identifying actor Josiah Victoria Garcia. The series also focuses on Anna Madrigal’s early life in San Francisco as a trans woman and the 1966 Compton Cafeteria riots -- credited as one of the first LGBTQ acts of public activism.

Euphoria (HBO)

Premiere date: June 16th, 2019 

A favorite of the Internet, Gen-Z, and make-up tutorialists everywhere, Euphoria faces touchy subjects head-on, with teens no less. One of the main storylines focuses on the budding romantic relationship between the main character, Rue, and her best friend and newest addiction, Jules. There is an important episode in the series which follows a younger pre-transition Jules through a stint at a mental health facility, assumingely for a sort of conversion therapy. Though Jules mainly lusts after sexually confused cis-het men in the first season, she also begins a relationship with Rue. Euphoria also aims to reconcile with homophobia, coming out, and the fluidity of queerness as a whole. 

Coming Out of the Closet: Reckoning with Public Identity

One Day at a Time 

Premiere date: January 6th, 2017

One Day at a Time, although a show seemingly aimed towards a younger audience has made headlines for its heartfelt ability to deal with the culture at large. Issues of racism, immigration, PTSD, and homophobia, in addition to topics directly affecting the Latinx community. Elena, daughter of the main character, Penelope Alvarez, has a particularly touching coming out story that leads to her eventually beginning a relationship with a nonbinary partner, Syd. 

Schitt’s Creek 

Premiere date: January 13th, 2015 

One of the best things to ever come out of Canada besides universal healthcare and photos of a young Justin Trudeau, Schitt’s Creek has landed itself a spot as an overall breakout comedy hit of the decade. Beyond its commercial and critical success, Schitt’s Creek has also given representation to a number of queer subjects, with main character, David Rose, being openly pansexual, and his eventual partner being closeted when they initially met. 

Bi/Pan Identities 

The Bisexual 

Premiere date: October 10th, 2018 

A fresh take on the misunderstood bisexual identity, Hulu’s The Bisexual follows an American woman living in London who ends a partnership after 10 years. The series’ first season focuses on the main character Leila, exploring her sexuality with men and women. Her dalliances are met with a fair amount of controversy, which opens up the conversation around the bisexuality identity in an authentic and often hilarious way. 

Game of Thrones 

Premiere date: April 17th, 2011 

With this monster of a series finally over, we can now reflect on its pros and cons from a safe distance. Game of Thrones had plenty of examples of problematic sexual encounters and assaults, which we could probably talk about endlessly, but it also gave viewers some truly badass queer characters during its run. Primarily bi characters, some standouts included Yara Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, and Oberyn Martell. 

The Deuce 

Premiere date: August 25th, 2017 

Another HBO show that’s seen its final episode is The Deuce. The show followed characters living in 1970s-1980s midtown during the height of prostitution, the AIDS epidemic, violent crime, and drug abuse in New York City. Though most of the series was quite dark, there was some light in the dark when it came to sexuality being more than just a commodity. A character with true heart, Paul, is seen through the closeted days of bathhouse debauchery, to the hopelessness of those closest to him dying all around him. Abby and Melissa both indulge in bisexual affairs with women as well, which aren’t mentioned as particularly shocking to those around them. It’s New York after all. 

In the Running 

Sadly, with my word count dwindling, I can only give nods to a few other shows that smartly grappled with the queer identity in the 2010s: American Horror Story, Looking, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Vida, 13 Reasons Why, Godless, Mindhunter, Atypical, and The Handmaid’s Tale. 

If you have any beef with these choices, sound off in the comments -- where I will be sure to stay away from for my own mental stability.

—

Dakota is a poet, journalist, and right in the damn center of the Kinsey scale. Follow her on Twitter: @Likethestates.

Gay people! We’re just like everyone else. We go to work, we fall in love, we recharge our crystals under a blood moon by the nearest body of water. But there’s one other thing we do just as well as anyone else: fall into medical debt from routine health issues! That’s right, equality is here and it’s a bummer!

I’ve been experiencing severe wrist pain for the past few months and finally found the cause: pressing down on my bones and nerves and muscles is a mean little cyst. At first I was honored! A cyst!? WOW, I’m just like a Drag Race loser! How thrilling. Then I found out how much it would cost to fix it. As with any injured person, I immediately scheduled my surgery and thanked my nationalized health service for my no-cost treatment. Just kidding, I’m an American. I immediately started a GoFundMe so I could beg and plead for basic human decency. 

Now, as you probably know from desperately trying to make eye contact with every cute person on the bus and psychically telling them “I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life,” gay people are constantly flirting. Through dating apps, through Instagram, through Facebook, hell even through the old ButtMagazine.com social network Butt Buddies; we love to flirt. A gay person can't post a picture of their cat without someone else commenting "I'd love to traumatize that cat by making them watch what I'm gonna do to you." Try as you might, but so far none of my cats have ever been traumatized by watching whatever it is that we gay people call sex. 

Therefore, I probably shouldn't be surprised that so many eager men have been reaching out to me to say things like "why don't you spend that GoFundMe money on a trip to come have sex with me instead?" or "how 'bout you show me what that limp wrist can do!" Folks, it can't do much! You don't want to see it! 

Also if you want to flirt with me over a desperate plea for help, go right ahead, but you better believe I'm going to check and see if you've donated or even shared it on Facebook! It's like the Holocaust*: don't bring it up unless you're at least tangentially involved! 

(*Editor's note: it's substantially less severe than the Holocaust)

Sure, I'd love to sell my body for some quick cash but it's just not ethical! It'd be like selling you a used car with a busted axle. Even if I disclosed it, it's a big hurdle to get over and there's still substantial work to be done before it's functional. 

Besides, getting paid for sex? Sorry but there are some lines I won't cross: picket lines! I'm not a scab, so patronize a professional please! There are plenty of qualified sex workers out there who will take your money and render services properly. As for you and me, let's make our surgery donations like our sexual interactions: no strings attached!

Fellas, I think you're all hot and wonderful and I'd probably like to do all kinds of things that our pets would be traumatized by watching. But, for now, let's separate that from this desperate act of begging that late-stage capitalism and decades of failed neoliberal policies have forced me into. It’s sad! You don’t want me to associate your sexiness with this! It’s like when some guy sent me a picture of his huge penis next to a Comcast remote for scale. Now I’m always going to associate your genitals with Comcast! Is that the message you really want to send?

So the next time you want to flirt with a broke, despondent and injured cutie, feel free! Just try to make it a little less dystopian and leave the fundraiser out of it!

—

Julian Modugno is a writer and humorist based out of Chicago, IL. He hates everything you love and won't be happy until it's destroyed and you're left with nothing. Donate to his GoFundMe by clicking here.

You can follow him on instagram @historysgreatestmonster and on Twitter at @juliocentric

iStock: nito100

I recently came across a video by Kat Blaque titled, “I’m Trans, but I’m NOT Queer (sorry)” and that it got me to thinking. 

I was today years old when I realized that to identify as transgender doesn’t inherently make you queer! Of course, I knew this to be true, but that didn’t keep me from subconsciously lumping the two identities into one big category. I mean, being trans means that you automatically take on a queer identity, right? 

In a historical context, that might be true. The term “queer” has always been used as this sort of blanket statement to classify all the genders and sexualities on the spectrum. It has been made into a slur, used in derogatory ways, beaten into the minds and flesh of people who do not view themselves as such, and reclaimed by those who do. It can be a jarring, triggering term. The promotion of queer studies and queer culture in mainstream media has softened the blow of this complicated word, but there are still people within the LGBTQ+ community who denounce it entirely. With the existence of “trans” as an umbrella for anyone who rejects their assigned gender at birth, be them a man, woman, anyone in between or outside of this binary representation of gender, what’s the need for the term “queer,” anyway? 

I’ve struggled with the acceptance of both of these terms at different points throughout my life, but never in a million years did I think I would readily accept the label of being a queer woman. Quite frankly, the vagueness of the term and its many definitions scared me. In my mind, queer equated to being strange, odd, and hard to decipher. At the start of my transition, I was quite adamant about being recognized as a woman in a binary context. For me, this meant adopting the stereotypical markers of femininity that I had available to me. To be undeniably female was a major goal of mine. So, I took to my own devices. False lashes, makeup, long hair, pushup bras and heels were the articles of presentation that I latched to, simply because I didn’t want someone to mistake me for being anything other than a woman. To be seen as a queer person would’ve meant that I didn’t pass. To be seen as a queer person would’ve meant that, despite my best efforts, my womanhood was getting invalidated due to my appearance, my voice, my mannerisms or whatever other indicator took me out of my oh-so-coveted cis-normative presentation. 

I didn’t like the feeling of being “in between,” which, admittedly, is a very problematic view of what being queer is in the first place. Queer is not the absence of authenticity, but rather a different way of viewing it. Queer is not the scraps that fall off of some heteronormative “pinnacle” of identity presentation. Queer is real. Queer is whole. Queer can mean whatever you want it to mean!

Now, as I am in my third year of transition, I am more open to adopting the idea of being queer in the context of my sexuality. Seeing as I fall somewhere in the middle of the sexual orientation spectrum, it makes sense for me to identify with the term. The jury’s still out on my feelings about what queer means to me in terms of gender since I still uphold stereotypically binary presentations of femininity. However, the fluidity and flexibility of the term is comforting, and that’s enough for me. 

—

Ivana Fischer is the Culture Editor of WUSSY and a film and media enthusiast who specializes in cultural studies. You can find her across all socials @iv.fischer

An epidemic of extreme poverty has loomed over the trans community for far too long. Every day, viable employment opportunities are stripped from trans people across the country. We are seen as unfit to take on managerial roles, as if our gender identities inhibit our abilities to perform. We aren’t taken seriously when we apply for jobs, because of the lack of accurate, healthy representation in the media. We are seen as liabilities, burdens, risk factors, and more. 

According to A Broken Bargain for Transgender Workers, transgender workers report unemployment at twice the rate of the population as a whole (14% vs. 7% at the time the workers were surveyed). More trans workers are being denied entry into the workplace due to preconceived notions held against us. Media channels blaspheme us, putting people under the impression that we are untrustworthy, deceitful, and inadequate. What’s more is that due to aggression from co-workers, or the inability to get promoted, some trans people are forced to leave their jobs, despite not having found another one. 

It is a damning conundrum. A cycle of history’s making, it is the evidence used to deny our liberation. In a culture riddled with ignorance and fear, what is a trans person to do but succumb to the roles we are told we must take on? 

Despite anti-discrimination laws, protections for trans people are challenged by workplace politics, suppression of worker potential, and denial of access to higher positions. In the newest case of transgender discrimination in the workplace, Aimee Stephens was fired from her job as a funeral director after coming out as a woman. In an attempt to be truthful with herself and the people she cared about, Stephens confessed her identity in a letter to her boss. She was fired under the notion that her identity violated the funeral home’s dress code. It can be so easy for an employer to justify their actions with hateful ideologies. The widespread, misconstrued ideas of what and who trans people are, ultimately lead to higher rates of unemployment. Before we can even get a foot in the door, we are blocked by the messaging of transphobic media depictions.  

It comes as no surprise that there are loopholes in governmental protection of trans rights, but something’s gotta give! Stricter policies should be put in place to keep employers from acting prejudice. Insurance of wage increases and ability to move up in the company should be afforded to every worker. At the very least, trans people deserve to have opportunities to flourish and be amongst the greatest, no matter the field. 

Watch as Culture Editor Iv Fischer breaks down this issue in this week’s Trans Agenda. 

—

Ivana Fischer is the Culture Editor of WUSSY and a film and media enthusiast who specializes in cultural studies. You can find her across all socials @iv.fischer

PHOTO: Julian Williams

Soup’s up! If you’re hungry for a double-stacked order of fierce, female empowerment and raunchy rap beats, help yourself to a serving of NYC’s rainbow rap legend, Dai Burger.

The name on everyone’s lips, Dai Burger has captivated audiences across the globe with her infectious sound, cleverly playful lyrics, and campy sense of style. The Queens, New York native quickly became a champion of queer, Black female artistry after the release of her debut album, Soft Serve, and hasn’t stopped dishing out hits since! She has released banger after banger, collaborating with queer rap’s finest, from Cakes Da Killa to Junglepussy. Burger’s anthems of authenticity not only inspire confidence and self-belief in her audience, but they also provide listeners with a refreshing vision of what the future of rap looks like: colorful, inclusive, and, well...juicy! 

Her new single, Vitamin P, showcases the artist’s lyrical prowess in quintessential “Burger B” fashion. The song serves as another empowering tease from the awaited sophomore LP, Bite the Burger, due December 6th

From her days as a backup dancer for Lil’ Mama, to her meteoric rise in the music industry, this artist continues to impress long-time stans while coming up with new and innovative ways to reach new audiences. We had the pleasure of asking her about queer identity, upcoming projects, and more. 

Congrats on “Where My Girls” reaching over a million plays on Spotify! What’s been happening in your life since the 2017 release of your debut album, ‘Soft Serve’? 

Thank you so much! I was very excited to see that myself! "Where My Girls" was such a standout track from ‘Soft Serve’ and I’m proud of that because I always represent for my ladies as well as those embracing their path! I’ve been continually performing & working on my next project(s) since this release.

Are you excited about debuting your sophomore album, Bite The Burger? 

Yes! Very excited. My first single “Salty,” produced by Saint, has definitely got my fans hungry & ready for the full album. 

The new single is such a bop! How did “Vitamin P” come together? 

“Vitamin P” was produced by Baja Frequencia, two producers from France. When they sent me this beat I instantly started writing to it! The song created itself!

The bounce/house music sound you incorporate in a lot of your singles, including “Salty” and “Vitamin P,” is infectious. Can we expect more twerk anthems like these in your upcoming album? 

You can ALWAYS expect twerk anthems from Dai Burger lol, so yes they will be present. But you can also expect to hear a new vibe incorporated as well, more defined, a little deeper, a lot more relatable. You’ll definitely leave satisfied.

If Vitamin P was a daily supplement, what would it help with? (Or, what would it be good for?) 

Vitamin P would be that boost you need in the morning. Gives you that energy & confidence to attack the day with no regrets, no questions. Just firm, strong & TRUE!

PHOTO: Julian Williams

Your lyrics invoke such a sense of female empowerment. “P for Pussy, Power, Pride, and Prestige” is definitely my new mantra! What do lines like this mean to you in the context of being a Black female rapper? 

Who knew the letter “P” held such Power! But it does and as you can see I’ve applied it to all the things we should be aiming for in life, and that’s having Pride & staying Poppin’! And living in your fierceness.

When are you your best self? 

I’m my best self when the nails, toes & hair are freshly done. Chillin’ in a face mask, textin' my homegirls, drinking seltzer water. Ugh, so refreshing!

You’ve talked before about your fearless queerness. How has the creation of your new music been enhanced your identity, or vice versa? (or, How has your queerness/sexuality/identity been reflected in your new music?) 

I’ve always said what I wanted to say in my music, and this time is no different. My identity develops as I grow & continue to figure out who I’m becoming. I’m that fearless boss chick that can snatch yo’ man or your chick, PERIOD! Lol

How important is it for you to include LGBTQ+ people in your shows, music videos, on your social media platforms, etc.? 

I’m all for inclusion. Though I don’t make it my specific goal, it just happens naturally. This is my lifestyle. I’m surrounded by fellow artists, designers and friends who have different backgrounds and even the ones who aren’t LGBTQ are allies to my hustle.

Top 5 songs on your “getting ready” playlist?

Doja Cat - “So High”
702 - “Where My Girls At”
Mariah Carey - “Honey”
Pretty Ricky - “On the Hotline”
Kehlani - “The Way”

Mix the old with the new school!

—

Ivana Fischer is the Culture Editor of WUSSY and a film and media enthusiast who specializes in cultural studies. You can find her across all socials @iv.fischer

Sasha Velour is no stranger to shocking and aweing audiences. The season 9 winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race set the bar for the drag competition’s future season finales with her unforgettable rendition of Whitney Huston’s “So Emotional.” Synonymous with descriptors like ‘transformative’ and ‘game-changing,’ Sasha Velour has made her mark in the drag community as a performer with an eye for detail, nuance, and surreal visuals. Sasha’s knack for creating memorable stage pictures tackles new heights in her touring one-queen drag show, Smoke & Mirrors.

Smoke & Mirrors is as much a drag show as it is a time machine, hearkening back to forgotten vaudevillian stage illusions all held together by interactive video projections and dynamic costume changes. In a lineup of thirteen self-choreographed lip sync numbers, and costumes made by Peruvian designer Diego Montoya, Sasha pulls back the curtain to reveal a carnival funhouse of technicolor characters and personas, played by herself. Some are video projections, others come and go with the change of a wig, yet all work together in tangent as a cast of topsy-turvy alter egos. These larger than life doppelgangers are more than parlor tricks to dazzle audiences but are reflections and refractions of Sasha’s drag identity. Like its namesake, Smoke & Mirrors doesn’t hide the pulleys and levers that keep the show together, but instead invites the audience to participate in an experience that blurs gender binaries and celebrates drag as modern-day illusion conjuring.

To learn the secrets behind her magic tricks, I spoke with Sasha about her creative process, the unexpected challenges and joys of making Smoke & Mirrors, and the reality bending nature of drag.

Let’s dive into the title of your show, Smoke & Mirrors. What made you decide on the title and how do you feel it encompasses the mood and visuals of the show?

For me, the title has several meanings. The phrase ‘smoke and mirrors’ refers to early film technology and the inclusion of film with performance. I love using video projections together with my drag. I think it’s the best way to integrate my visual art, experiences, and passions into a stage performance.

I also love playing with classic stage illusions and tricks, which I think is a tradition that drag is a part of, but also me wanting to pay homage to the tradition of these theatres that I’ve performed in. These theatres were known to have famous magicians, vaudeville stars, and even drag performers, who would employ costume reveals and surprises in their acts, which is what I think I’ve become known for. I like to pay homage to that tradition and think of the art of drag as illusion with a modern twist.

The title is also about taking apart and tearing down the narratives that I know people associate with me through social media and all the ways that I’ve had to hustle. In a way, let people behind the curtain, past the smoke and mirrors into a more honest discussion about who I am and what my story is.

In most cabaret style shows, a performer will change costumes for different acts, but they’re always playing themselves. Smoke & Mirrors is different because even though it’s a one-performer show, it’s filled with characters and distinct personas that you embody. Can you tell me more about the cast of characters and personas you play throughout the show?

All the characters are written for the numbers and each number is its own distinct world. That’s how I think of lip sync performances: it can’t be just an excuse for a costume, but needs to be an entire story, like a mini three-minute opera.

I do a performance to Lana Del Rey’s “High By The Beach,” [pictured above] where I am both a mustache-twirling melodramatic magician and a weeping assistant in distress. One is a video projection and the other is a real person. I have costumes and facial expressions and movements for each of these characters. And of course, I like to destroy any kind of binary that I create about myself, so at the end the two characters merge and transform into each other.

In order to create a narrative that flows, each of the characters and numbers, which is maybe thirteen or fifteen versions of myself, run chaotically throughout the show. I try to create a feel that you’re watching a huge cast production, or a review show with a bunch of illusionists, and they’re running around as things go wrong, but when the characters turn their backs, you get to see these very human moments that are also super stylized.

What would you say is your favorite number to perform?

One of my favorites numbers to perform is Irene Cara’s “Fame” [pictured below] as a bunch of Rockette dancers. I watched hours and hours of footage of the Rockettes dancing to try and nail certain poses, mannerisms, and facial expressions. That’s the one number – no spoilers – goes off the rails. I get to go from Rockette glamour to Lucille Ball melodramatic disaster. I love it, it’s one of the most fun combinations I get to do.

You have an amazing eye for visual references both in your drag and your live performances. I have to say, watching you perform is like watching a painting come to life, like something out of a David Lynch or Julie Taymour film. What visuals inspired you when you were creating the world of Smoke & Mirrors?

It makes me happy to hear you bring up Julie Taymor because I have a huge art book of Julie Taymor’s The Green Bird that I’ve had since I was a little kid. So those color palettes, the framing of the stage, that world is very much in my head.

I approach my work in the style of the people that I love. When it comes to specifically drawing inspiration, I try to cast a wider net. I’m interested in the old-fashioned tricks of making a stage picture. You know now, there’s so many shows with huge LED screens, lots of fancy visuals, lights, geysers, all kind of things. My style falls into more of a queer minimalist aesthetic.

I also look to how people design stages for old movie musicals, like looking at Judy Garland dancing in front of a painted sky backdrop in that famous performance of “Get Happy,” from the film “Summer Stock.” That to me is a compelling stage picture for me to look at and watch. 

I don’t want to see a bunch of distractions because that takes away from the performance. I’m always looking for what kind of visual world highlights great performance but doesn’t hide all of the flaws.

Drag is hard by itself without video projections, dance numbers, costume changes, and thirteen lip syncs, but you do it all. What would you say has been the biggest challenge of performing Smoke & Mirrors?

I underestimated the physical challenge of doing the show (laughs). I’ve realized, that in the last couple of years, I’ve done tours where I’m only required to be on stage for give or take fifteen minutes. That to me is not a great challenge, so I was like, “I’m going to be on stage, running around and sweating, performing my heart out for two and a half hours.” To actually having to do that (laughs).

I’m in such great shape from doing the show. I keep joking I’m going to put out an eighties work out video: the Smoke & Mirrors version for the inspiring drag artist who wants to run in a corset and eight inch heels.

I will say I think a lot of the complexities I’ve added on top of the performances help me. I’m not a great dancer (laughs). I can move around. I can move with intention. But instead of say focusing on my dancing, I will focus on building this intricate movement that I share between a projection and myself. 

I think about the lighting; I think about the costumes. That’s how I choose to incorporate my passion into drag because by planning out all these little details, they’re heightened during the performance. It’s really an adaptation of what I’m good at in drag instead of forcing myself into doing what other people are great at in drag that I do not have the capacity for. In other words, death drops and choreography (laughs).

What would you say has been the most rewarding aspect of the show?

The most rewarding aspect is that it turned out great. I’m so proud of the show! I was working in a bubble for a month and a half putting this together. I didn’t know if this was going to make any sense and people have responded well to it. It feels like people really understand this fever dream I’m trying to communicate by myself through the numbers and the overall message I wanted to communicate about what’s possible with drag and art.

I think that’s what makes it so exciting because I love being the right amount of vague. I want to do a show that people are talking and thinking about days later. And I’ve seen it. On Twitter, I see people engaging in discussions about the show, and it’s fun getting to talk to them and unpack it like a little mystery.

The best part by far is the artwork people have made after seeing the show. Whether it’s an actual piece of fan art from a moment in the show that stuck out for them, or if they’re like, “You know you were crazy enough to spend all your time making these thirteen numbers, here’s my artistic project I’ve been dreaming up for years.” It’s always my goal as a drag queen to inspire other people to pursue their creative best.

Smoke & Mirrors doesn’t shy away from being a drag show, but instead celebrates the art of drag. Can you tell me more about how the art of drag relates to the show’s themes of illusion, reality bending, and surrealism?

When I was putting the show together, there’s this one book about drag history I would refer to called The Changing Room. I read up on drag that had been popular throughout the early part of the twentieth century. There were a lot of drag performers touring the vaudeville circuit who would do these quick changes between many, many different characters using stage tricks. For instance, they’d be hanging up laundry, be behind a sheet, and then come out in a different costume. 

It’s clear one of the ways of entertaining audiences in these huge theatres was using drag to transform someone very quickly over and over again, like a multiplicity of selves, which feels modern in a way. Especially when you think about the context of the time and what was happening. There was increasingly more mobility for people to transform themselves and see changes in their lives, instead of being trapped into one small section of society.

I love how drag makes that promise and plays with it in various ways. I feel like that relates to right now and the realities of social media: the ability to transform yourself and the chaos that can ensue.

I love discovering and exploring history behind drag because I keep hearing this narrative that the stunts and tricks that are part of drag are corrupting the artform. It’s funny reading about the history of drag, and the truth is: people have been complaining about drag being corrupted by technology from the beginning. That’s probably the oldest tradition of drag. Even lip syncing! People thought that was such a crisis that was going to destroy this fabulous art of live singing and comedy. But I think technology has only enhanced the powers of drag to be more multimedia, to comment on society about gender more deeply. I love the psychology behind all of it, and I love playing with theatrical elements because I think those can only enhance what we’re trying to do.

I would say the real tradition of drag is keeping an eye on what’s new and using it as a part of this queer artform of critique and observation.

Sasha’s Fame number

What would you say has changed the most and what has stayed the same since when you began drag to where you are now in your career?

A lot has changed, but I don’t want to over dramatize it. I think the good friends and the sophistication of drag has always been there, but now it’s so much more. When I started drag, it was barely talked about in queer spaces. I was doing drag right before RuPaul’s Drag Race and then I got to develop my drag as it became this popular artform.

Drag Race played a big role in pushing drag into the mainstream awareness again. There’s a lot more freedom for people to explore drag because there’s a lot more exposure to what the artform is. I think without seeing drag, people will have a very narrow idea of what it’s supposed to be, but as soon as they go and see a drag show, people discover that it can transcend genres and is open to all kinds of performers.

Specifically, I’ve seen drag become more inclusive. When I was starting drag in New York City, even outside of Brooklyn, you could not find a show that had a drag king or even a nonbinary performer. You see it changing constantly. It’s almost trendy now to have diverse lineups in every drag show and it’s awesome because it forces people to break outside of their comfort zone and work with artists who are dissimilar to them. I think that’s the best kind of drag community.

I hope that keeps translating into how drag is represented on television, how’s it’s described in books, and how it’s studied. I think those are the areas that we need to see changes now.

There’s an ongoing discussion in the drag community about how drag can be an extension of one’s gender identity and gender expression. Some queens have brought up how they no longer see themselves separate from their drag persona and when they perform it’s not as that character but themselves. How would you describe your relationship with your drag persona and your gender identity as someone who is genderfluid?

I still try to figure that out for myself every day. You know, I love the art of drag and the traditions. I feel that drag is very important to me, and that’s how I identify as and name my art. So, it both is and not separate from me. I think, I love presenting as high femininity on stage, and that’s why drag is such a useful category for me as a genderfluid person.

I don’t think I have a clear-cut answer for this. I’m very lucky to have been doing drag in a community that has been very inclusive of all forms of gender expression and drag. Not just the RuPaul scene, but local drag scenes, when I was starting out. There’s drag kings, trans queens, AFAB drag performers, it’s all there and drag is just a name of the space where we’re allowed to perform whatever we want as queer people and saying we are queer. We weren’t always allowed those spaces to be visibly queer and expressing ourselves.

But I think the shift we’re watching now is possible for out queer people to fit into other mainstream artforms: the world of music, the world of comedy, and so on. That can definitely be a positive shift for the world. Maybe not all performers who have been doing drag want to continue doing drag, but for me drag itself is the artform and world I want to focus on and put my heart into.

Drag is the pure possibility of clothes and performance. It can go in any gender or direction. It’s just about approaching it with that level of openness that allows for people to make that decision themselves.

Looking ahead, after Smoke & Mirrors, do you see yourself putting up another one-performer show? Maybe a sequel to Smoke & Mirrors or a completely different show?

I would want to make another one-performer show. I really enjoyed the process, and I honestly can’t wait to do it again.

I think a lot of what I’ve done around Smoke & Mirrors is teach myself, and for my partner Johnny is teaching himself, how to create a theatrical show at this level. We really haven’t that opportunity before. There’s so much you have to learn about how to do it. But I think those skills I’ve learned along the way can be used to improve the show we’ve been producing together for over four years: our drag review show, Nightgowns. 

Because, ultimately, I think that the one drag show people need to see is one that includes many different forms of drag. And I try to do that myself in Smoke & Mirrors by exchanging my costumes and emotional state over and over again (laughs), but the best way to do it is with a community of performers. I miss getting to work with my drag family. It’s lonely doing the one-performer show. I think drag is meant to exist in a community.

I’ve heard there’s a TV adaptation of Nightgowns in the works. Are there any details about the show you can share with us?

Yes! So, in April, a TV adaptation of Nightgowns is coming to streaming platform called Quibi. The show will be a hybrid documentary, performance series where you see these artists’ full lip syncs as directed by Sophie Muller, who is an amazing music video director from London. It’ll be mixed in with behind the scenes stories of people’s creative processes, their lives, and their experiences in local drag. It will also be one of the first shows about drag that will not be a competition. That’s a big deal for me.

I think that will be a great kick off for Nightgowns on the heels of the Smoke & Mirrors tour. And I’m hoping that we can take Nightgowns on the road and bring it to other cities, have guest performers in other cities come and join our lineup. That’d be amazing to make that dream a reality.

You can check out more information about Smoke & Mirrors on Sasha Velour’s site, and head over to the Smoke & Mirror’s homepage to find tickets for a performance in a city near you.

This interview was edited and condensed for clarity.

—

Stevie King is a genderqueer comedian, freelance writer, and wife of seven brother-husbands. She loves spending her days sitting at home waiting for her children to call...

WUSSY is now accepting entries for the next special edition of our regular print magazine!

Are you a queer-identified activist, writer or visual artist?

Poetry by megan volpert - wussy vol.04

Showcase your work in the pages of WUSSY!

Theme

No specific theme requirements, but this will be our SPRING/SUMMER 2020 issue, so plan accordingly!

What Are We Looking For?

Works of non-fiction, short fiction, photo essays, satire, opinion pieces, illustrations, nudies, comics, interviews, fashion editorials original and thoughtful pieces about the queer experience.

All work must not have been published anywhere else online, social media, or in print.

Cultured Pearl by Bree Holt - wussy vol.04

Submission Guidelines

All written submissions should be submitted as a PDF. Preferred word counts range from 500-1,500 words depending on the piece. Please label your piece “firstnamelastname_title” with title and author included inside the document.

All visual submissions should be submitted as high resolution, 300 dpi JPEGs. You may send up to 10 images from the same body of work. All files should be labeled “last name_first name” and put into a labeled zip folder.

All submissions are due by December 30th at Midnight.

Email submit@wussymag.com with any questions.

—>CLICK HERE TO SUBMIT<—

Photos courtesy of Naomi.

Naomi.’s rise will be swift:  that much is obvious with the cohesion and catchiness of her first single, “babe”. Rarely does a debut have such sparkling assuredness, but Naomi. knows exactly what she wants and what she is trying to accomplish. Thus the execution that appears effortless yet sashays in intentional cat-like charm, Naomi.’s “babe” stands as a sultry (and an incredibly solid) premiere that will leave the listener craving more. 

Working closely with producer Jackson Matayo, “babe” is a demure number that holds its cards close, yet designed to seduce, hooks with rhythmic downbeats perfect for a first from this pan newcomer with Grace Jones-esqe energy and the cool sass to match. Naomi.’s knack for undoubtable disco-meets-‘90s dancefloor flare welcomes a warm layer of repetition that weaves into a hypnotic crescendo. 

A long way off from her beginnings, “babe” may have some serious sexual energy but Naomi.’s original foundation was that of prim tradition. “I grew up performing in my childhood church band and sang in choir all throughout school. I really think that being surrounded by musicians and artists growing up helped me discover my passion for music,” the singer explains. “Although I've gotten older and developed my own beliefs and ideals on music, religion and spirituality, I'm grateful to have had those experiences.” 

Photos courtesy of Naomi.

Naomi. has resided in ATL since 2017, moving from Port Saint Lucie, FL in pursuit of music school where she majored in Music and Technology with a focus on vocals. Opening her mind to preparation of her own creative path, “All of my instructors were people who either made money playing music, or have had a really successful career in the industry, and it was honestly inspiring being in their presence,” Naomi. shares. “I learned about how to become a better performer and artist, and I learned so much about the industry.”

Her songwriting process typically sparks from a small concept, “whether it's a simple melody or just a phrase that gets stuck in my head, I'll start there and then work with my producer on fleshing out the idea”. An avid listener of lofi hip-hop, which beyond enjoyment aids in entering a relaxed creative space, Naomi. draws from many wells of inspiration and appreciation. However, one genre has been particularly magnetic as of late. 

“I love Kpop because there is so much thought that goes into every single detail of each song, performance, outfit, etc. Sonically, Kpop music is very different from mainstream pop in the US and I adore how creative the songs are, so that really motivates me to create something unique as well,” she says. “I also take a lot of inspiration from Melanie Martinez. I think she's a genius and she has a way of making her concepts come to life.” Hoping to incorporate sickening stage costumes and visuals into future live performances, Naomi. soaks up both the morphed imagination of current pop but also the artistry in heartfelt expressions, mentioning a love of Lorde and Banks as lyrical artists (“I think their vulnerability is beautiful and emotionally provoking”). The timeless style of “babe”, however, crosses more than the generational foothold of the pop reincarnations of the recent decade. 

Underneath all of Naomi.’s sarcasm and wit, she is a huge softie for the people she loves, quite the classic quality for a Cancer. At home she hangs with her Siamese cat, Paris, and aligns with her own creative energies, as underpaintings form in her mind of the lush luxuries of musical pursuits to come. Her bold presence outwardly is met with a private and rich inner world, an aspect we can pick up on in “babe”. The single’s power is intimate yet celebratory, and as a first glimpse into the Naomi. Universe, we have no doubts this artist will bring much more of this balance and precision into her future releases. 

Follow Naomi. on Instagram and Soundcloud for future updates and content.

—

Sunni Johnson is the Arts Editor of WUSSY and a writer, zinester, and musician based in Atlanta, GA.

The following interview originally appeared in WUSSY vol.06 print edition. To order your copy, click here.

—

Shamis McGillin is a shapeshifter from the future.

He possesses the ability to morph his face, body and subjects into futuristic art through his lens. He combines his skills as a makeup artist, photographer, retoucher, and art director, to create out-of-this-world conceptual visual art. His images are glitched and collaged into existence, humming with energy, while his styling is reminiscent of 80's New York when hand-crafted sculpture became wearable and innovation was en vogue.

MONARX is the creation of Shamis, crafted with club-kid ingenuity and high fashion execution, MONARX is bizarre, otherworldly and a living piece of art. Like any living thing, Shamis' work changes and grows, the lines between mediums are stretched and blurred, and through it all, we see a vision of what the evolution of art and fashion could look like. We spoke to Shamis about his work, the birth of MONARX, and the influence of the queen Janelle Monae.

What is your relationship between your persona MONARX and yourself as Shamis, the individual?

I am the artist and MONARX is my creation and a vessel for me to explore identity.  MONARX isn’t a character, it’s more of a space that I’ve allowed myself to take up and create something meaningful to me. This space isn’t always where I want to be, because it forces me to face the unknown things like ego and the soul, but I want to grow and MONARX forces me do just that. 

In your work as a photographer, art director and as MONARX there is a sense of the subject as alien, otherworldly and beyond human. Why do these characteristics persist throughout your work in various mediums?

Aliens as a concept are  entities I look up to and hope to see in my lifetime because if they exist, they challenge everything we know about ourselves, our place in the universe, and our origins. I think being in my early 20s I’m constantly in existential crisis of “this can’t be all that there is”.  Playing with otherworldly aesthetics is my way of challenging the idea that the world has to always be the way that is is. 

MONARX exists in the real world as a nightlife club kid, but a lot of your work is captured through photography and digital images. Do you find any challenges or advantages working through mostly visual mediums?

I started working in nightlife when I was underage. It was a great space at the time to explore my identity as a queer person as nightclubs have sometimes been the only “safe” zone for LGBTQ to explore identity. I quit working in those spaces because my body and mind were violated and I didn’t control the space. In my studio and through digital imagery, I get to have a say in everything I do and no one can touch me. Creating editorials hopefully resonates more than photos of me with a drink in my hand. 

Your use of materials and textures for your looks is fascinating, resourceful and shows inventiveness that sets you apart as an artist. Where does that come from?

I’m a cancer, I don’t come from a lot of money, and it’s important to me to have a safety net than spend all I have if I can help it. I didn’t have any money when I started out, so I really had to just see what people were throwing away, get out the hot glue gun and cross my fingers that it didn’t fall apart until after I got in my Uber home. Even with more resources now I love to incorporate materials that are absurd because I think it’s an extension of my challenge to reality and utilitarianism. 

 Who are some of your biggest influences in any medium?

Janelle Monae. If I didn’t have her music and visuals when I was in high school, I would have been lost. I’ve never seen an artist create such an expansive sonic and visual world while being an activist constantly challenging the her own reality in such an authentic way. She’s also a fan of futurism and sci-Fi so I feel connected to her through that naturally. 

—

For more info and work by MONARX, click here.

Nicholas Goodly is the writing editor of Wussy Magazine.

PHOTO: M. Cooper (@mcoopercreative)

After a rediscovery of the self, both personally and musically, Ms. White has walked back onstage and into the studio with an assuredness of a musician newly in control of her persona and production. For any artist, this is difficult to execute. For female artists, this is even more difficult to accomplish. For a trans artist, it can seem insurmountable. 

That’s why Ms. White’s deterrence from her more mainstream pop personality on Jade to her authentic jazz and genre bending self on Marina is an accomplishment beyond what is expected from the traditional evolution of an artist. And not all artists truly evolve throughout their careers. The trepidation being that they’ll lose fans, lose money, and lose hope for the future. 

Ms. White was prepared for this, however: “by the end of it, [my producer] Theo [Shier] and I were definitely prepared to lose some people. This record is a bit more out there, sonically and lyrically and definitely as far as the genre is concerned. I don’t know what this means necessarily in a broader sense, but this was my way of priming everyone for the future of Ms. White. Less glitz, more substance.” 

And that substance doesn’t just sneak through, it breaks the door down. In songs like “Arizona” -- which aims to shed light on the various ways in which trans women are mistreated by partners who would rather hide them away than show them off -- Ms. White ruminates on a specific romance that could never take off in the shadows. But the track isn’t a despondent confession, it’s a defiant opposition accompanied only by a piano. 

“I know your tastebuds / are so fucking ordinary / but you got to / get used to / this different tasting cherry / ‘cause I got you with wide eyes / and I’ll make sure that I catch the light.” Ms. White’s voice is at times playful, sardonic, and at all times powerful. With a simple final thought, she encompasses not only this specific trans experience, but something that every queer person -- hell, every person -- has probably grappled with when it comes to unrequited love: “sometimes I think it would’ve been me.” 

There’s a clear theme of a reckoning with identity throughout the album. Not only because Marina is titled after the artist’s name, which was adopted when transitioning and meant to be an ode to her fisherman father, but because Ms. White never got to do it on Jade. An EP full of pop hits that could be wistfully played at the gay club, Jade didn’t exactly introduce Marina to the public in the way Marina aims to. 

“I almost would view Marina as a mixtape or compilation -- it’s not exactly cohesive in that it isn’t telling one story, but the songs all came from the same place inside me. I am always writing music, so ‘Marina’ is what I wrote during some seismic life changes. My goal with ‘Marina’ was to give you scenes, fragments of my imagination, to paint a broader picture.” 

Ms. White does offer these lush scenes in stripped down songs like “Old Man Charlie” which begins with lyrics reminiscing on the singer as a very young child looking up at her father, eventually moving into quite emotional territory in the chorus: “old man charlie / you could be my best friend / with love / but I’ve gone and fucked that up.” There’s an overwhelming honesty the listener gets here, on the singer’s grappling with her identity and at the same time trying to please in both the private and public sectors of her life. 

It’s clear that Ms. White is moving into a period in her career that some artists never truly get to -- when they can produce music that moves the listener, entices them, thrills them, and still feels genuine, still tells a story that is deeper than what we expected. These are the moments in which we truly connect. 

After struggling with the reception and composition of Jade, Ms. White took a couple years to get Marina right, and to move in the direction she knew she had to for herself as an artist: “Though I love that people are actually listening, I am far more concerned with pushing the boundaries of what my music, and music more generally, can be. As long as I release something that’s authentic and better than the last one (to me) I’m happy, regardless of reception.”

The final song on the EP, “Candy Heart” is another velvety track that highlights the singer’s range and a coming to terms with who Marina really is and can be. Ms. White doesn’t want much, she just wants to be able to keep doing what she loves: “I just want this one thing / let me fucking sing.” 

Marina was released November 8th via Flat Pop Records. Her EP release will be at Baby's All Right in Brooklyn on December 2nd. Stream the short film that accompanies Marina here. 

—

Dakota is a poet, journalist, and right in the damn center of the Kinsey scale. Follow her on Twitter: @Likethestates.

Image Alt text: Laurel Lawson as Venus is flying in the air with arms spread wide, wheels spinning, and supported by Alice Sheppard as Andromeda who is lifting from the ground below. They are making eye contact and smiling. Photo by Jay Newman / BRITT Festival.

Dance is an occasion for play, exploration, and storytelling, but how often does it give us all that and more? What if dance could interrogate classically held notions of beauty, love, liberation, and the human form? 

Kinetic Light is an innovative disability art ensemble uniquely poised to offer such an experience with their latest work, DESCENT. Drawing on the work of modern sculptor Auguste Rodin, DESCENT is a movement based reimagining of Venus and Andromeda entwined in a queer, disabled, interracial love story. 

As choreographer and dancer, Alice Sheppard fully realizes Andromeda as a protagonist. Her portrayal reclaims Andromeda’s white washed history as a Black woman while centering Andromeda as the locus of change. The inherent narrative of DESCENT revolves around Andromeda’s liberation.

In the opening scene, Sheppard perches on the highest point of an architectural ramp, in reference to the myth beginning with Andromeda chained to a rock awaiting her death. The ramp’s high point is located in the back right corner and makes a steep slope down and forward, until it splits and rises again more gradually along its back portion, creating a gently undulating shape reminiscent of a wave breaking. From this point, Sheppard dances without her wheelchair, crouching, twisting, rolling along the ramp’s surface in precise movements. 

Laurel Lawson, embodying Venus with short, blue green hair, emerges from the split in the ramp and pulls Andromeda down into her underwater world. Dazzling, intricate light projections, designed by disabled artist Michael Maag, fluidly shift settings and give the ramp supportive vibrancy throughout. Lawson, as the goddess of love and beauty enticing Andromeda, moves with buoyancy along the elevated surface of the ramp sans wheelchair.

Alt text: Alice Sheppard, Laurel Lawson and Michael Maag are all sitting in their wheelchairs in profile. Alice leans onto Laurel who is leaning onto Michael. They are all smiling. Photo by Robbie Sweeny

The pair ascends into a new realm, backdropped by a resplendent purple nebula projection, but perhaps most importantly indicated by their wheelchairs now present. One wheelchair appears in the same spot where we met Andromeda, appearing precarious in its slant. Sheppard, Lawson, and the second wheelchair balance the composition in the back left corner of the ramp, where the slope levels to a flat surface.

In this space, magic happens as the wheelchair is integrated as part of the dancers’ form. Lawson performs physically impressive feats like dangling off the edge of the ramp, and later careening down the slope and banking sharply on the other side of the split, continuing her path as smoothly as water gliding over the same surface. She displays delicate moments just as deftly, as when she tenderly peers through the spokes of her wheelchair. 

Sheppard is a vision of talent and trust. In a grip with Lawson, she tilts backwards until lying on her back, then allows her dance partner to balance on her footplate, all arms extended in wide embrace. In due course, she assumes the exact shape for Lawson to ride over her supine form. In the crescendo of this movement, Lawson leads Sheppard to the spot where her wheelchair has been patiently waiting, an echo of her crouched form in the opening scene, and Sheppard freewheels toward the front of the ramp. Venus liberates Andromeda from her destiny, sharing a language of movement and cementing their connection. 

Image Alt Text: Andromeda is crawling on her forearms with her knees in Venus' footplate, and Venus is arching her back on the ground as she is dragged along the floor. Photo by MANCC / Chris Cameron.

 Act 1 ends with both dancers in sync, rolling up and then backwards on the gentle pitch of the front section of the ramp. The sound of wheels traversing the ramp morphs into ocean waves crashing, which lingers even after the dancers’ trajectory slows to a halt. Act 2 is a visual feast of technical skill and raw emotion that culminates the narrative.

The wheelchair is freedom. The ramp is form. Dance is a vehicle for the body to express the gamut of the human condition, yet it is the synchrony between dancers, wheelchairs, and the ramp, that is liberation. Light, sound, description, and narrative enhance the immersion, suspend our disbelief, but in the end, DESCENT is about mythmaking. It gives us an opportunity to envision marginalized bodies as sites of the imagination, as play embodied, as goddesses of desire and personal power. As Andromeda’s racial history is restored, so too is myth in the hands of the storyteller. How powerful it is to shape the idol in one’s own image. 

It’s that feared (and often, dreaded) time of year again, when spending time with family becomes more of a requirement than a suggestion. It’s the time when queers must prep themselves, and not just their holes, for possible judgement, ridicule, and a wee bit of tough love. Many regard it as “the most wonderful time of the year,” but for trans and queer people alike, it can turn out to be the worst. Get ready to light the tree and inevitably be engaged in conversations that’ll have you thinking, “Did I ask for a side of anxiety and unresolved familial trauma with this figgy pudding?” because it’s time for the holidays!

Navigating the holiday season as a queer person can be a tumultuously stressful endeavor, filled with uncomfortable questions, overcritical attitudes, and even a few altercations here and there. If you’re a queer person with older family members in your life (think, like, boomer-age and older) it can be difficult to explain certain aspects of your life or to coexist with them. For some, these cringey familial interactions may come with a need to modify one’s own appearance and/or forego the yearly SHE-says-her-pronouns-are-THEY/THEM conversation. Whether it’s holding family members accountable for how they address you, or calling them out on the disparaging comments they make about you, here are some tips on making it through the holidays with in one piece.

This holiday season, come correct and be prepared to deal with those family members who never seem to just...get it. Be direct in the way you handle situations regarding your name, pronouns, how you wish to be addressed, and more! Call ‘em out! Granted, not every family member is going to respect your wishes, but it’s better to maintain a firm stance when faced with familial adversity. This shows that you are coming from a place of seriousness and that their disdain affects your life, even when you’re not around them. 

Although the holidays are a time for togetherness, be sure to prioritize yourself and your mental health. It’s not worth it to endure the pain of experiencing queerphobia within your own household, all over a rickety childhood bed and those microwavable mashed potatoes your mom insists on serving with every Christmas dinner. If you have the resources, remove yourself from the situation. Phone a friend! I always like to identify the times of day and places I can go to recollect, check in with myself, and tune out the negativity that comes with being around insensible family members. 

If all else fails, just know that a lot of people act out in fear of the unknown and love for you as a member of the family. It is scary to be queer and, believe it or not, the people in your life know this! Keeping a rational, yet emphatic demeanor while trying to explain the things they just don’t understand, will make for a more successful and healthy conversation with your loved ones. 

Watch as I talk more about this topic in the newest installment of the Trans Agenda!

—

Ivana Fischer is the Culture Editor of WUSSY and a film and media enthusiast who specializes in cultural studies. You can find her across all socials @iv.fischer

The reclusive ladies famously refused to sit for portraits, so most paintings are done from this engraving that Richard James Lane did in their later years. We hope they’ll forgive our sharing it here so we can celebrate their bona fide badassery. (Creative Commons)

Let me be frank: this story has everything. A feisty orphan, an armed window escape, a pervy old guardian, a brave maid, two ladies in top-hats, a yappy dog, LORD BYRON, as well as a truly extra gothic estate on the high road between England and Ireland…inside of which, over the course of fifty happy years, lived the Ladies of Llangollen, who loved each other dearly and escaped their aristocratic families for a life of romantic seclusion. A heartsick Anne Lister (aka Gentleman Jack of HBO fame) visited them and was bequeathed a single rose. “I envied their happiness!” she swooned in her diary the next day. 

Y’all, this is a queer gothic romance of the highest proportion, and you need to know about it. 

Part 1: The Lady and the Orphan and the Pervy Old Guardian 

Lady Eleanor Butler was born in 1739 to one of the most powerful families in Ireland and grew up in a castle in the town of Kilkenny. A voracious reader and a Francophile, Eleanor grew up a thorn in the side of her aristocratic family for failing to behave like a proper lady, and later blooming into a full-on thorn bush when she refused to marry. She turned down several proposals: a disgruntled suitor wrote of her, “This is a woman that no man will conquer.” 

At 29, she was appointed to tutor Sarah Ponsonby, a 13-year-old orphan studying at the boarding school across from the Butler castle. Sarah lost her parents as a child, and landed in the care of some elderly second cousins, Lady Betty Fownes and her husband William. William, in true pervy fashion, immediately fell in love with pre-teen Sarah, and begged her to marry him when Betty died, which he was hoping would happen soon. We don’t know if this inspired Sarah to plot an escape from the Fownes’ (quick, let’s guess), but we do know that when she met Lady Eleanor, they were immediately inseparable. They bonded over French novels, letter-writing, and, presumably, their shared desire to throw off their horrible relatives..

Early portraits thought to be Sarah Ponsonby and Eleanor Butler (artists unknown; both via History Ireland Magazine) 

Their deep love for each other grew over the years they spent together in Kilkenny, reading, writing, and dreaming of another life. They were avid fans of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, whose “back-to-nature” writings are considered the foundation of Romanticism, a cultural craze that swept across Europe in the late 1700s. Rousseau’s praise of “rural retirement” – where rich people quit the city to live in cottages and devote themselves to painting, reading, and other leisure activities (because rich people) – inspired them to plan a rural retirement of their own, a life of “delicious seclusion.” Sarah and Eleanor began to plot their escape.

And escape they did! It took ten years and two attempts, the first of which, while unsuccessful, deserves credit for being next-level extravagant. 

Escape I: 

Both of them left their homes under cover of night, the moon barely a sliver: Sarah, by then 23, actually jumped out a window, dressed in a men’s breeches and riding frock, armed with a PISTOL and accompanied by a TINY DOG NAMED FRISK. She met Eleanor in the barn, who had taken a horse and ridden from the Butler castle, also dressed as a man. They rode to the coast to catch a boat to England, but missed its departure by a few hours. Hiding in a barn awaiting the next boat, they were discovered by the search party marshaled by their families. Yappy Frisk had given them away. Frisk! Why! Alas, we queers have a storied history of doing dumb things for our dogs.

They were both dragged home to Kilkenny, where Eleanor was locked in the castle and Sarah immediately came down with a terrible fever, because, again, this is a gay gothic romance of the highest proportion. While she convalesced, Lady Betty wrote to a friend with relief, “There were no gentlemen concerned, nor does it appear to be anything more than a scheme of romantic friendship.” Romantic indeed, for when she recovered, Sarah stoutly insisted that she would have no other companion. She would “live and die with Miss Butler.” Horrified, the families tried to keep them separate, but…

Escape II: 

Eleanor managed to escape yet again and was smuggled into Sarah’s house, where she lived, undetected, for nearly two weeks. What! This heist was possible thanks to the assistance of  Sarah’s maid, Mary Carryll, who helped keep Eleanor hidden. Mary’s loyalty was invaluable in helping these women achieve all that was to transpire, and it’s likely that without her, none of us would be talking today about the Ladies of Llangollen. Thank you, Mary Carryll.

When pervy Mr. Fownes finally discovered Eleanor hiding in his house, he alerted the Butler family, but they were so fed up with the stubborn spinster that they gave in. The exasperated families gave them a deal: leave Ireland and never return, in exchange for a small allowance. The Fownes let them take Mary Carryll and a coach. Lady Betty remarked later that they were laughing as they climbed aboard. “Poor soul,” she lamented of Sarah. “If she had not been so fond of her pen, so much would not have happened.” Neither Sarah nor Eleanor ever saw their families again. Pervy Mr. Fownes died shortly thereafter, outlived – triumphantly, if briefly – by Lady Betty, whom he’d so perv-ily hoped to outlive. 

And thus our little queer heroes – with their intrepid Mary - quit Ireland, never to return. 

Part II: Gothic Gay Times in Wales 

The group spent two years hunting around Wales for an idyll in which to romantically retire. They eventually found Llangollen, a small village in northern Wales, and in 1780, rented a house outside the village. It was called Plâs Newydd (“new house” in Welsh). The three of them quickly set about transforming it into a paragon of gothic splendor. They replaced the windows with custom stained glass, and, in a fit of what Sarah called “oak mania,” they filled the house with intricate wood carvings culled from old castles and monasteries, presented as gifts by curious visitors. The porch-covered entrance was so extravagant that once it was finished, the ladies celebrated with a “porch party” so everyone could admire the carvings. 

The Llangollen estate in an undated postcard – hello porch party! (Castles of Wales)

In the romantic spirit of the day, they roughed up the grounds to make them feel wilder, but also cultivated a sweeping rose garden. They established a self-sufficient farm, with a dairy, orchard, vegetable gardens, brewery, and barn animals. In addition to Mary, Sarah and Eleanor enlisted several more maids, a butler and a gardener. Money was always tight, but they got by with intermittent support from friends and family. Later, when their fame spread, they were even granted a pension by Queen Charlotte, who had hoped to visit but stayed away because she was allergic to musk, and the ladies were apparently rather zealous in their scents. Charlotte could not hang. 

In their seclusion, the Ladies of Llangollen lived comfortably, contentedly, and did exactly as they pleased. They ate ridiculously well and both got plump. They hosted streams of notable visitors, who were curious about their wild escape story and their kooky house. They styled themselves like doddy old masters of the hunt from another century, both sporting riding frocks, top hats, and powdering their hair, which had gone out of fashion for everyone in Europe - everyone except the Ladies of Llangollen, who gave zero fucks. 

A watercolor of their Llangollen estate by Mary Parker: the caption reads, “In the Grounds, Plâs Newydd, 1835” (The Ladies of Llangollen Wordpress)

In other words, they did it. In 1780 – the actual eighteenth century, like French Revolution/American Revolution/People Still Burning Witches/Using Leeches as Medicine eighteenth century – these women completely reimagined what was possible for them. This was the heyday of the Enlightenment, when white men were enthusiastically embracing the natural rights of, well, white men. Women were excluded from the new philosophical ideals of rationalism, virtue, and self-governance; Rousseau himself thought women generally useless. There was no visible female Enlightenment, no God-given right to female self-determination. But Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby lived in defiance of that reality. They rejected every norm of the day, establishing their lives entirely on their own terms, openly unorthodox. And – deliciously for us – openly in love with each other. 

And in love they very much were! They shared a single bed and slept together every night for the next fifty years. The glassware and books were printed with both their initials, and they signed their letters jointly. Each of them called the other “my beloved,” even in front of guests. Eleanor, who kept meticulous journal entries of their day-to-day, had a host of pet names for Sarah and was effusive in her affection until the end of their lives. They were careful to cast it as a “romantic friendship,” and emphatically denied any notions that they were sexual together, but they were demonstrably, intensely, devoted to each other. They barely left Plâs Newydd, entirely content in their happy life. They wanted for nothing else in the world.  

Part III: *Queer Icons 4 Life*

Eventually, however, the world wanted them. Word spread of the women in top hats who had escaped their families and achieved that vaunted goal of rural retirement. Romanticism reached a fever pitch in the early 19th-century: The Industrial Revolution was grinding up the Western world, and people were looking for spiritual salvation, for escape. The Ladies of Llangollen embodied the spirit of Romanticism. Their romantic female friendship, which most assumed to be celibate, was seen as the apex of purity. 

In the fifty years they lived together at Plâs Newydd, they were visited by nearly every European luminary, artist, and industrialist of the age: William Wordsworth, Thomas de Quincey, William Shelley, The Duke of Wellington, Josiah Wedgewood…Princess Caroline of Wales secured their royal pension. Charles Darwin remembered visiting them as a child with his father. Lord Byron, the Shakespeare of his day, dedicated a poem to them, as did Robert Southey and Wordsworth. The celebrated female poet Anne Seward – also queer – wrote an epic ballad for the ladies, called the Llangollen Vale. Eleanor dutifully recorded every visitor in her daily journals; the result is a genuine Who’s Who of European high society. 

Including, eventually, Anne Lister, now of Gentleman Jack fame and ALSO a fan of the top hat.  

Recounted in Anne’s own diary, she visited Plâs Newydd in 1822, years before the HBO show takes place (y’all gotta read her diaries because, folks, they skipped some JUICY bits). Anne is 31, restless, and heartsick over Mariana, whose marriage to a man has really thrown a wrench in Anne’s plan for wedded lesbian bliss.  She likely read about the famous Ladies of Llangollen, who by this point were elderly and in failing health. Eleanor, by then in her eighties, was too ill to receive visitors, but Anne spent several hours with Sarah, whom she found “altogether a very odd figure” but captivating in her intelligent wit and worldliness. 

She was enchanted with Plâs Newydd, and dreamed of visiting again someday, with Mariana accompanying as her wife. “Will this ever be or not?...” she muses. These were hard times for Anne (I’d venture that being left for a man hurt in 1819 as much as in 2019), but her visit to Plâs Newydd affirmed her hope that women could find peace and happiness together. She sends Mariana a letter after the trip, to which Mariana replies, “The account of your visit is the prettiest narrative I have read.” AND THEN she asks the question I know y’all really want to know. 

“Tell me if you think their regard has always been platonic?” 

Part IV: So Like…Did They Do It?

The Ladies of Llangollen, aka Lady Eleanor Butler and Ms. Sarah Ponsonby, plus a yappy dog (told ya). (Portrait 1830, James Henry Lynch. National Museum of Wales)

Anne Lister thought so. Mulling Mariana’s letter, she wrote in her diary:

“I cannot help thinking that surely it was not platonic.” 

YES, ANNE, I ALSO CANNOT HELP THINKING THAT. 

The queer female experience feels extra lonely when we look back through history and grasp at the few straws left us. There are vanishingly few stories of the queer female/non-binary past, for the same reason there are so few stories of everyone not rich, white, and male. Literacy was rare, and paper rarer still. History has been politicized since we first began to write it down. 

I feel the ache in Anne’s words with an acute familiarity. How much she longed for kindred spirits. How much she wanted not to be alone. “I hesitate to pronounce such attachments uncemented by something more tender still than friendship.” 

Were they lovers? It’s not clear. Most historians think not, since Eleanor’s journals were so detailed, and they make no mention of bedroom romps. And they certainly went to lengths to deny it: when a British newspaper wrote a prurient story on the two, implying they were lovers, Eleanor tried to sue the newspaper for libel. Instead, they preferred the term “romantic friendship,” a relationship that exalted the ideals of Romanticism and afforded some measure of cover for their unconventional lifestyle. Some historians assert they were asexual lesbians; others think they totally got down and just never mentioned it (one theorist refers to them as “gentry sapphists”, which is also the name of my new band). 

Does it really matter? They were two women in love, and that makes them profoundly, beautifully, norm-defyingly queer. “How can I acknowledge the kindness and tenderness of my Beloved Sally,” Eleanor writes in her journal. “The joy of my heart.” 

They were also immensely devoted to Mary, who worked and lived with them for her whole life. The love between the three of them, while complicated by class (Mary worked for them without pay, presumably to contribute to the keeping-up of Plâs Newydd), is perhaps the queerest, most tender story of all. When she died, Eleanor and Sarah again defied the norms of the day by erecting a three-sided monument where each of them was to be interred. Eleanor wrote Mary’s epitaph. 

Their three-side monument in Llangollen, Wales. (Collection Llangollen Ladies Monument Restoration)

All three of them are there now, buried in the churchyard of St. Collen’s in Llangollen. Eleanor died in 1829, at 90 years old; Sarah followed two years later, at 76. Their love for each other is cited in both their inscriptions. 

Plâs Newydd was sold a few years later to another pair of romantic friends, Charlotte Andrews and Amelia Lolly (referred to by queer historians as the “Lollies and the Trollies” so stay tuned to hear that gay af story), but after they died it changed hands several times, suffering unsightly renovations along the way. The District of Llangollen finally purchased the estate in 1932, restored it to its original gothic splendor, and opened it as a museum. 

Plâs Newydd today, open to visitors and still ready for a porch party. (Out in the City)

Plâs Newydd continues to draw curious visitors, and Sarah Ponsonby and Eleanor Butler have inspired legions of queer people for their devotion to each other and authenticity to themselves. In 1936, pioneering doctor and lesbian Mary Louise Gordon visited Plâs Newydd and wrote a book on them, The Llangollen Ladies.

Because this is a queer gothic romance of the highest proportion, you will not be surprised that the book features a conversation between Mary Gordon and the ghosts of Sarah and Eleanor. It is through ghosts, after all, that we find ourselves located in time, that we grasp those few straws of the past that belong wholeheartedly to us.  

She addresses the ghosts of the Ladies of Llangollen, standing on the same Welsh hills where they once walked: 

“It is nothing to have shown the world a perfect love…

You meditated among your books and dreamed us into existence.”

—

This article is a collaboration between Rachel Garbus, writer, and Amanda Archimbault, queer history enthusiast, who maintains the Instagram account @thehistoricalhomo. Follow for more dazzling queer stories! Follow Rachel @goodgraciousrachel for more missives from the queer culture front.