So Gay So What

It wasn’t until very recently that I noticed that WE, lesbians, dykes, femmes, butches, queers and whateverelesyoulike share a very special sense of style for t-shirts with phrases. Even when our mouth is shut, we still wanna say something, right? Or is it just an ice breaker for a conversation? It’s the silent yell!

I’m sure that we’ll always say a little something extra with those shirts. Anyways, let’s let the t-shirt we wear be our wingman!

So yesterday I received this invitation for a gala wedding next month. Very rich, successful, middle age people, getting married for the second time (they never learn anything) at Donald Trump’s hotel. Even though I couldn’t care less about those heterosexual privileges, this one triggered something I cannot yet define. So wrong, but so intriguing.

And then my mom called me: “Hello darling, did you get the invitation? We need to start looking for a dress.”

The last time I wore a dress I was probably 12. But I kept on listening: “It’s a black-tie wedding, honey.”