Vintage pride, so amazing.
I’ve reblogged most if not all of these photos before, but they’re too lovely to not reblog again.
i can get behind the message of this, but the fact that these are posted without credit, context, dates, not to mention under the headline “vintage photographs of lesbian couples” kind of irks me.
credit from what i know:
- La Grosse Claude et son amie, au “Monocle” by Brassaï (from his “ladies at the monocle” series in the 1930s)
- Tango in the east end (1954) by Thurston Hopkins
- At first I thought this was part of Deborah Bright’s Dream Girls series but I can’t find any credit/source on it.
i can’t find sources on any of the other images. i understand the desire to find images that speak to us and our realities in the past, but i feel like it unfair to ourselves and to the artists who took these photographs to erase the real stories behind them. aside from the bottom photo (which i’m pretty sure is just of models hired by a saucy photographer) these look like photographs of real people with real lives. i think it’s important to do justice to that. …and this is all without talking about how shitty it is that even though these images are beautiful, they are all still pretty resoundingly of conventionally “beautiful” white folks. sadly another instance of even queered images reproducing dominant norms.
also it makes me want to dig up an old article i wrote about queering images that aren’t necessarily queer…
i never thought my tumblr would turn into where i share my personal thoughts; i always intended it to namely be a place for me to share images i find inspiring, empowering, wonderful, disturbing. but now i’m trying to negotiate that when i want to share my frustrations or elations, i end up coming here. (i still have a lot of qualms about how public it is, how it remains overall impersonal even though there are a good dozen of you i admire and know have got my back) thinking this shit through lately.
i found a ride and got out of town this weekend. coming home to an empty apartment things feel… different. i tell myself the change of seasons does this to me, this confusion of wanting everything to change, now, like the flowers that seem to sprout overnight.
anyway, all of this to say this weekend was good. montreal is so, so different than québec city in so many ways; the bikes everywhere, the weather feeling months ahead of where we still are, the amazing mix of people walking through the park, the films you can see in english or french (or spanish or moroccan or creole), the food. the food. and coming back to québec city reminds me of why i love how they are different, but how close they still are. hopefully i will find a way back before the end of the month.
in the course of two and a half days, i got to meet some really wonderful people, and got to catch up with some good friends. it is simultaneously so comforting and so disorienting to see people you haven’t seen in three years and still feel… like you know each other? a person who knew me gawky and awkward at twelve, thirteen, fourteen. a person who’s walked me home when i was falling down drunk, a person who saw me figure myself out, a person who saw me heartbroken and lovesick, people who have seen me angry at everything and everyone… and who still want to know me. and take the time to see me. i value these friendships more than i can possibly express.
on top of that, i met two brilliant writers i have admired for years. their reflections on time, reality, truth, and the radical potential of literature (fiction) has left me rethinking my feelings as a writer, a journalist, and led me to question why i stopped writing fiction (unless you count a handful of unfinished songs written last year). i’m left overwhelmed at the inspiration they left at my feet, not knowing where to begin, but mostly i am excited by their generosity and genuine spirits. i promised neil i’d read his fiction (“…in english! throw simon’s french translations away, will you?”) and he insisted a dinner date once i’ve finished. nicole can’t wait for august, and neither can i.
my love is leaving for europe tomorrow, for a month. i’m excited that upon his return, it will be summer, and soon after that all of our ambitious plans will start to fall into place. i’m trying to keep feeling the good, and figure out where to put the bad. there’s a lot of bad, some of it capital B bad but most of it manageable lowercase bad. there’s a lot of tough awesome people in my life to help me figure out how to… figure it out. so i can sleep tonight.
i have a tendency to date pragmatic people. i assume it’s my relatively no-nonsense approach to lovers.
‘i like you.’
‘i like you.’
‘you wanna do this thing?’
‘yeah, let’s do this thing.’
but every once in a while this can cause a seeming lack of “romance” in my “romantic” relationships, and every once in a while i can catch myself being a little angsty about it.
when i had one of those once-in-a-whiles today, i realized something.
my close friends aka my adopted family are some of the most straight-up hardcore romantic people i’ve ever met in my life, and we shower each other with romantic gestures every single day.
like bringing an americano over when they are having a tough morning.
or gifting a book just because a line makes you think of them.
or writing and recording a song for them because they are far away.
or finding them the perfect dress to wear to a party.
or scheduling a photo shoot to showcase their awesomeness.
or working tirelessly on a show/project/meeting/book/djset/exhibit/party/newspaper/menu just because it will bring them joy.
break down the myth that we can only be romantic with our partners.
THIS IS JUST A FRIENDLY REMINDER TO WOO YOUR FRIENDS. CONSTANTLY. THEY DESERVE IT.
i remember that time, maybe three years ago, when i was trying to finish my undergraduate degree and fell terribly ill for over a week, just as all of my papers were due. kate brought me homemade soup. iris came over and helped me open my bottle of tylenol that i was too weak to open, after having bought it for me and bringing me copies of teen fashion magazines to make me laugh. rachel brought me movies. rosie let me stay in her bed because it was bigger and comfier. i was so grateful for all those friends.
and lately, i’ve felt lucky to have the same here. karina who buys me a holga camera “just because.” sarah brings me homemade apple cider and makes music with me. me inviting friends over for dinner who work too long hours and don’t have time to cook these romantic gestures feel so much more special just because not everyone knows you should woo your friends. listen to kate’s words of wisdom!