Musings on Life for the Queerly Inclined

Posts tagged ‘pride’

ATTENTION: The National Threat Level Has Been Raised to RAINBOW

Last night I had a crisis on my hands.  I mean a full-fledged disaster.  It was like running out of glitter.  Okay, not that bad.  What to wear for dyke march?  The question hung over me, drenching me in desperation and doom.  The blue jeans short shorts?  Or the pink jeans shorter shorts?  These are the questions that keep me awake at night, people!

Keep in mind, pride weekend is a two day affair: Saturday is dyke march; the parade is on Sunday.  There are multiple after-party opportunities following both.  Gotta figure out what fabulousness I’m gonna wear for each event.

Sequins are gonna happen.  I mean, duh, that’s pretty much a given.  I decided on a silver sequin top (ya know those items of clothing that toe the line between a shirt and a dress so you besta wear something underneath them?  ya, that), with the pink shorts, a pink chunky belt, and pink sneakers.

If you’re gonna be at Chicago dyke march, come say hey!  I’m gonna march with FFICA: Fierce Femmes in Chicagoland Area.  We have a huge red velvet banner–yeah, we’re keepin’ it classy–that says “femmes” on it in red and pink sequins and white lace.  Needless to say, we won’t be hard to miss.  I helped make the banner, so you should check out my fancy cursive lettering in red sequined fabric.  Holla!

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Who came up with these colors?

Greetings, friends and comrades.  Today I would like to discuss a very important and serious issue in my life: the pansexual flag.

Does it remind anyone else of Superman ice cream?  (FYI for  all you curious kiddies out there: I don’t recommend trying it–it tastes like blue and yellow.)

Given my penchant for being ever so slightly over the top, I would love to incorporate this symbol of one of my identities visually into my life and occasionally my wardrobe.  I would totally wear a pan flag to pride, if not for the fact that I would feel like a huge poof of cotton candy.  This is a problem.  It causes me great distress to know that I can never fully take this flag seriously.  Every time I start to feel a swell of pride, my mind and heart are derailed by memories of looking at this odd flavor in ice cream shops and wondering what it would look like when all the vibrant hues melted together down the side of my sugar cone.

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