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When I met my partner Beth in February 2020, she was working on a documentary. I had never known someone who was working on a documentary before — they seem like so much more work than a narrative story. The documentary, called Feeling Seen, focuses on the representation of queer women on television. It was a topic I found really interesting; when I was younger, TV had been a big part of my life, and some of the earliest confirmation of my queerness came from there. We started dating right before the pandemic, which shut down any progress she had made with filming. The more we talked about the project, the more intrigued I was by it. Eventually, I became part of the team.

Beth started conducting interviews for Feeling Seen in 2017, but there were still things she was trying to work out. Since I’m a writer and write narratives, we decided my best use would be to come on as a co-writer, helping her flesh out the story of the documentary by creating a narrative structure. The thing I loved the most was that TV fans are a huge part of the story of the doc. She had interviewed actors, showrunners, and writers from several television shows, but she had also connected with people who watch television about how the depictions of queer women on television had informed their own queerness or perceptions of what queer life could look like. There have been several documentaries on LGBTQ+ representation on TV, but none of them talk to the regular people who watch TV. It really does change the depth of the story. I decided the best way to tell the story was to follow a linear timeline of representation but focus on key shows that changed the conversation, using the fan interviews to bolster the things the creators of the show had to say.

In 2021, Beth asked me to sign on as Associate Producer of the project. It made sense since we lived together and often had conversations about the doc after hours, mostly in bed. I can untangle her thoughts and execute them in ways someone who doesn’t know her as intimately can’t. In 2022, I took over as the main producer and social media manager. I continue to also help Beth with the narrative plot of the film, using my understanding of not only more recent television, but the larger conversations around representation that are happening in a variety of spaces to craft a well rounded story. Because I’m a total research nerd, I also do a lot of the historical research that will inform the early parts of the film. I had never envisioned myself as the producer of a documentary, but I believe in this film so much that it felt like a no-brainer when I was asked. However! I will admit that this project is an absolute labor of love. Emphasis on the labor part.

We are doing this project completely independently, which is a lot harder than people think, especially when you don’t have a lot of money. The bulk of the interviews conducted in 2018 and 2019 were done after a successful Kickstarter campaign to raise $50,000. We were able to raise about $7,000 last year after mounting another crowdfunding campaign, but we were so unprepared for it. Crowdfunding is like jumping without a net; you really have to trust that people see enough of your value to give you money. There is a vulnerability to asking people for money in that way. What if people don’t donate? What does that say about us and about the project? We have heard from so many people that this is such an important and necessary film, and that doesn’t seem to translate into money when we need it. There have been many nights where Beth and I have sat up and wondered what it is about the project that keeps people from donating. Of course we know that some people simply aren’t in a position to, but that’s not what we’re talking about.

Finding funding for independent projects is really fucking hard. If you’ve never done it before, you cannot fathom how exhausting and demeaning the process can be. Crowdfunding is just one (very important) part of making an independent project happen. It’s stress-inducing: The lulls in donations sit like a pit in my stomach as my thoughts swirl with what happens if we can’t make it happen. It’s hard not to take it personally, even if half the audience is strangers.

And people who try to offer advice often mean well but only make it worse. We recently had someone suggest we simply release what footage we have now and start a new project to fill in the gaps we’re missing. As if it’s that easy! “Well, why don’t you just ask the celebrities you interviewed for money?” Okay, first of all: These people are doing these interviews for free. We cannot then turn around and ask them for thousands of dollars. It doesn’t seem right. A few have offered help in various ways, and we do try to take them up on it, but they’re also impossible to get in touch with, especially when you have to go through a manager or an assistant. People ask why we don’t apply for grants and we do! But after the pandemic, there are less of them to go around, and many of the ones you’d think would be available for us just aren’t. Plus there are a lot of equally deserving people who are also applying for the same grants. There’s only so much money going around, and even though we believe in the strength and necessity of our documentary, we’re small fish in a big pond full of fish. I can write an amazing application, but again, I have no control over their decisions. We’ve applied to several large grants in the last couple of months, and now we’re sitting on pins and needles waiting to see what happens.

Feeling Seen is as relevant as ever; we’ve all seen the shows we love either end or be canceled in the last couple of years. Each loss has been devastating to our community, and to each of us personally. Since Beth started this project in 2017, almost all of the shows she discussed are off the air. By our hopeful release year of 2025, there’s a chance that all of the shows we plan to discuss in depth will be off the air. And the way things are going, there aren’t going to be a whole new crop of shows popping up in their place. It’s fucking depressing.

When we interviewed the inimitable Lea DeLaria in the summer of 2022, she said queer women are being written out of their own narrative, and I couldn’t agree with her more. As part of my research, I watched a lot of documentaries that focused on LGBTQ+ representation, especially on television and it was an eye-opening experience. I watched Visible: Out of Television, which explores similar subject matter to take notes. In five hour-long episodes, the mentions of queer women were only enough to fill one sheet of notebook paper. And despite being produced by high profile LGBTQ+ actors, there were so many queer women who were left out of the conversations completely. It was so disappointing to see.

For so long, we have had to feast on scraps, and when we finally did have good representation, it was systematically taken away from us. When we create things for ourselves, that gets destroyed too. We can’t win, but we can keep trying to fight. That’s why it’s so important to us to not only finish making Feeling Seen, but to get it out into the world for others to see.

We’re currently fundraising to finish filming the last 10-15 interviews we need to be able to tell the full scope of the story. Shooting an interview (or several) isn’t cheap; each shoot costs us anywhere between $1,500 and $2,100 between crew fees and rentals. This means that if we want to finish, Feeling Seen needs to raise $30,000 in the next month. We want to have filming finished before the go into the Christmas season so that we can start 2024 in post-production. We’re determined to get as far into this project as we can independently so we can maintain our artistic vision and integrity without compromise. But we can’t do it alone.

I intentionally chose Pride month for our fundraiser for two reasons: making so called “allies” put their money where their mouths are by asking them to donate and to show that, no matter what, we’re committed to this project. Pride is about the riot but also the resilience of our community, and no one has to be more resilient than a couple of independent documentary makers.

We need to take back control of our own narrative. I will never stop trying to tell our stories.

Clare Forstie Wants To Change the Way You Think About the Queer Midwest

Last April, my friends and I found ourselves driving through rural Illinois around 1 a.m. We spent an evening at The Office, the only gay bar in Rockford, Illinois — home to the fictional Rockford Peaches of A League of Their Own — where we grabbed drinks and stayed late to watch the Saturday night drag show. We were all faculty members at a liberal arts college in Beloit, Wisconsin, a small city of about 36,000 on the border of Illinois, and made the trip 18 miles south because The Office was our closest gay bar. Older faculty members told each of us about a gay bar in Beloit, but it had long since closed. So off to Rockford we drove.

I was thrilled to see a diverse group of queers show up to cheer on the local queens that night. Having lived in New York City and Chicago for most of my adult life, I was accustomed to LGBTQ scenes in larger metropolitan cities, where nightlife is often segregated by race, age, and gender. Do rural queers spend more time in community with each other, if only because they have fewer places to go?, I wondered. This resonated with my own experience: I was at the bar with three gay male colleagues who had quickly become my lifelines to queer community that year. In a small city without many resources or social networks for LGBTQ folks, we became a small queer crew, frequently showing up for one another to celebrate our achievements and kvetch about our complaints.

Clare Forstie’s book Queering the Midwest: Forging LGBTQ Community explores how LGBTQ Midwesterns cultivate community in seemingly “unfriendly” cities, in places like Rockford and Beloit. Forstie interviewed more than 50 residents of “River City,” a pseudonymous city of about 50-60,000 people in the Midwest, to understand the nuances and complexities of building community outside of major metropolitan areas. The book resonated deeply with my own experiences of looking for and creating queer community in the Midwest.

“I am a queer person who grew up in and has lived in small communities, small towns, and small cities for my entire life. And I found that some of the narratives both that we hear nationally [and] within academia about LGBTQ communities more broadly tend to flatten the experience of folks in small cities and towns,” Forstie, an Education Program Specialist at the University of Minnesota, told me when we spoke about the book last month. Pushing back against generalizing narratives that cast the Midwest as a conservative place to escape from, or a group of monolithic “flyover” states without rich culture or community, Queering the Midwest tells a dynamic story about the varied ways queer and trans people experience life in River City.

Forstie’s interviews and ethnographic observations of LGBTQ events in River City painted a picture of what she calls “ambivalent communities.” “Ambivalent communities” helps describe how LGBTQ people in River City feel about their community as well as how community institutions wax and wane over time. “LGBTQ communities are persistently ambivalent and not easily located along a trajectory toward assimilation or progress,” Forstie writes in her Introduction. “While LGBTQ institutions anchor communities in large cities, people anchor communities (and sometimes LGBTQ institutions) in smaller cities like River City. As people migrate to and from these communities, relationships, institutions, and events rise and fall…LGBTQ community has been necessarily temporary in contexts where institutions cannot be sustained.” In other words, in towns and cities too small to have an LGBTQ community center or a network of LGBTQ cultural institutions (bars, social clubs, sports teams, book stores, activist groups, etc.), a sense of community may fluctuate over time and is often dependent on particular individuals who help create it.

Forstie’s understanding of communities differs from other sociological accounts of queer community, which tend to imagine it as moving through particular stages of development: At first, LGBTQ people are largely closeted, then enter a coming out era, and eventually assimilate into the mainstream (what some scholars have called “post-gay” community). Complicating this progress narrative, Forstie argues that the “unsettledness of communities varies and is specific to each community’s contours and histories.” She explores how the broader contexts of communities like River City — geography, racial and gender demographics, political and industrial histories — shape how LGBTQ people feel and experience it. Rather than generalize about LGBTQ community formation based on case studies of urban coastal cities, Forstie wants to see how our understanding of community shifts when we look elsewhere.

“What, precisely, does ambivalent community look and feel like?” Forstie asks. To find out, Forstie asked LGBTQ River Citizens about their relationships. She found that friendships between LGBTQ people were key to their sense of community (or lack thereof). While existing research focuses on how queer “chosen families” are crucial to LGBTQ community survival, Forstie finds the reality was a bit more complicated for the people she interviewed. It is not just that friendships create community: Forstie wants to know, “Which friendships generate community, and under what conditions?”

Interestingly, she told me there is very little research on LGBTQ friendships in general: “There’s a lot of research on LGBTQ folks in families and what that means for folks, there’s a lot of research on LGBTQ institutions as a source of community, but not so much about the relationships that form them or don’t form them. So I think there’s a need to dive deep into understanding what relationships actually create a sense of community.” Her work helps us understand “how friendship may, in fact, hold LGBTQ institutions together or constitute communities after such institutions have faded away.”

Forstie told me,“Friendships where folks affirmed and validated [queer] folks’ identities were really important for LGBTQ folks’ survival. But not all friendships are created equal, right? Just because someone had a shared identity doesn’t mean that they were going to be friends…Some friendships didn’t allow LGBTQ folks to be seen at all.” Family relationships and friendships were variable, and some of her participants complained that LGBTQ community in River City was too “clique-y.” Yet those without connections to LGBTQ friends, romantic partners, or acquaintances often felt lonely. People without those community ties “were the folks who are most likely to leave” and move to other cities, Forstie said.

This is the ambivalence that Forstie finds so interesting about LGBTQ communities. She writes, “Ambivalent community reflects a sense of both/and—a sense of both the need and lack of need for LGBTQ community.” Some of Forstie’s participants complained about the community that existed but still desired to be a part of it. Others had close LGBTQ and straight ally friends, but still didn’t feel an attachment to a larger community. Still, others felt safe in River City precisely because they didn’t tend to associate with other LGBTQ people. For Forstie, these tensions and contradictions show us community isn’t a linear, stable, or objectively “good” thing. As she told me, “communities can be inclusionary and exclusionary at the same time.” Instead of romanticizing community, Forstie suggests that exploring how people understand community can tell us about “how people imagine their futures” in relationship to one another.

As two East Coast transplants living in the Midwest, Forstie and I ended our conversation talking about how the political context has shifted here since she conducted her research in the 2010s. As state legislatures introduce record numbers of anti-trans and anti-LGBTQ across the country, will this shift how we understand and feel a sense of community? Forstie shares that LGBTQ activists in River City occasionally create one-off events — like a 2016 vigil to honor the lives lost after the massacre at Pulse nightclub in Florida — to support one another. Standlone events put on by dedicated organizers can help create a sense of togetherness and solidarity during times of crisis without relying on longstanding organizations or institutions, she suggests. Forstie also predicts that “migration patterns are really going to change pretty substantially,” as LGBTQ people, and especially trans folks and/or families with trans children, consider leaving states increasingly hostile to their wellbeing. She and I colloquially share stories of friends and colleagues planning to leave Ohio and Missouri, the states where we both currently live.

“But folks do stay, for a variety of reasons,” she affirms. “I think it’s important for folks who don’t live in small cities in towns to be good allies to folks who are in small cities and towns. We [can] think about how we can support those folks in this moment, and to not be like, ‘Wow, it must really stink to be there,’ [but] to think about how we can share resources, right? So I started a monthly contribution to a mutual aid organization in the state that River City is located in.” Rather than just encouraging our friends and loved ones to leave their rural communities, Forstie encourages us to ask what they might need to sustain their wellbeing.

Despite the increasingly dystopian news about transphobic and homophobic legislation in the Midwest and across the country, Forstie wants us to recognize “there’s something to be said for the joy that can be found in those communities, for those of us who live in them, who are from them, who choose to stay.” She tells a heartwarming story about attending a small town Pride celebration with her family in Brunswick, Maine last summer — the town’s first! — where she ran into a former professor who hugged her warmly. As she tells this story, I think back to the joy I felt last year at The Office, surrounded by my colleagues and queers of all kinds. It felt powerful to participate in Rockford’s local LGBTQ culture, out with my friends at a thriving gay bar in a region many don’t associate with queer nightlife. “There’s something about a small town pride that really reinforces the importance of relationships, and not viewing community as a source of consumption,” Forstie reflects. “So I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to be all doom and gloom. I want to retain that feeling of joy alongside the struggle. So ambivalence to the end, right?”

Queer Mom Chronicles: Happy Pride Y’all!

I came out when my son was almost five years old. He was at an age where we could talk about what my identity meant and about life as a queer person. It was important for me that he not only understand my queerness in relation to his life but understand the LGBTQ+ community as a whole. Young kids are often way more open minded; it’s much easier to explain queer life to a four and a half year old and have him accept it.

One of the ways we did that was through picture books. There are so many picture books for kids that explain queer life and tell queer stories. One of his favorites was a book about Stonewall; not just the riot, but the building itself. When we lived in New York, we would pass it often because it was near the salon I took him to for haircuts. When we got to the part about the riot, I appealed to his empathetic nature and his sense of fairness to make it all make sense. Once he understood it in terms he could make sense of, I knew it would be easy to build on that over time.

By the following year, he understood that Pride started as a riot and why it’s important to acknowledge the origins of the month. I was able to teach him the un-whitewashed version of the Stonewall riots, giving power to the black and brown folks that put their bodies on the line so that his mom could be free to love freely. He already knew that people fear those who are different and how that can lead to violence, but that marginalized groups always find ways to fight back. But I didn’t only focus on that. I did teach him about the joy of being queer, and that even though Pride’s roots are a riot, we continue to celebrate to show the world what liberation and joy look like. That’s why we have a parade every year. When he was younger, the parade was not his vibe, and then the pandemic happened, so we had to wait to celebrate publicly.

Last year was the first time my family celebrated Pride, and woo wee, did we go all out. LA actually has TWO Pride weekends. West Hollywood Pride is the first weekend of the month (by time as you all read this, we will have already been!) so we went to the parade, which was a fun time. Driving would have been a nightmare, so we took public transportation; the city has trolleys that take you to the start of the parade route. On the trolley, there was an older gay man with a speaker playing a bunch of 70s and 80s disco, but then he put on the soundtrack to Rent and the whole trolley whooped. Did my partner and I participate in a singalong of “La Vie Boheme” and “Seasons of Love”? You bet your ass we did. It’s truly one of the gayest things I’ve ever done in public, and I loved every fucking second of it. That’s what Pride is all about!

Somehow, we ended up in an area with a lot of families, so he found other kids to play with. People were handing out flags and signs, so I taught him to chant “no cops at Pride,” and he really got into it while we waited. He got a beach ball and it kept him occupied, which was a godsend. His other favorite part was seeing JoJo Siwa on a float; he told all of his friends about it at school the next day. We walked the length of the parade because there’s a Salt & Straw at the end and we could all use an ice cream.

I planned our summer trip to New York to coincide with New York Pride. It was something I never got to experience when I lived there, and I just had to go. I convinced my best friend to come (she’d never been either), and I requested my mom’s presence, mainly so she could take my son home afterwards. To my absolute surprise, my dad decided he wanted to join in on the fun. You haven’t lived until you’ve gone to a Pride parade with your eight-year-old son and your seventy-seven year old dad who’s going blind and walks with a cane. But they had a great time! It was really special to experience that day with my whole family.

We also did Dyke Day in LA, which was so much fun. Some friends brought a whole picnic setup, and we brought our puppy and his puppy bestie. The pups were absolutely the belles of the ball. If you’re single, bring a puppy to Dyke Day. You won’t be single for long. The NYC Dyke March was a lot of fun too, especially because we skipped the marching part and waited for the march to reach Washington Square Park. You can hear them coming, and the energy in the park is electric. We hadn’t planned to stay long, but our kiddo had a blast playing with other kids who had families that looked like ours. We had to drag him out of the park.

This year, I’m planning on doing a Pride slideshow with his class. Most of his classmates know that he has two moms, but I don’t think they truly understand what that means. I did a slideshow presentation for Black History Month, and it went over really well, so I’m super excited to do this one. I’m going to teach them some vocabulary words, some LGBTQ+ icons, and have a printout of the progress Pride flag for them to color. My son gets mini lessons all the time, but I have no idea what his classmates know. I’m a little nervous, but I know the kids in his class are open to learning, and who knows? Maybe they’ll be able to teach someone close to them a little something.

I was curious to see what some other families are going to be doing this year. The WeHo Pride parade is full of families, but I know that not every family does that. Below are my favorite responses.

“I will be in Arlington, VA reading my debut picture book Molly’s Tuxedo at the Family Pride event at the Museum of Modern Art Arlington, co-sponsored by Rainbow Families. My daughter is home from college and will be there, too to help me out.” – Vicki Johnson

“We always talk a little bit about history and why we have to be visible and celebrate and activate because we weren’t always free to do so and many people fought for us to be here. Every year she gets older we talk a little deeper and a little more real in that regard. Otherwise it’s just a party and it’s really not. It’s important to me she knows that part especially now.” – Audrey Babcock

No matter how you celebrate, I hope you have a Happy Pride month!

Queer Mom Chronicles is a monthly column where I examine all of the many facets of queer parenthood through my tired mom eyes.

Eight LGBTQ+ Country Music Singers on Pride and Queering Country

Virgin Strawberry Daiquiri

“What kind of music do you listen to?” is always a question I dread. My response, “I listen to everything,” while mostly true, is a cover-up for how much time I actually spend listening to country music. I’ll admit that at any given moment you could turn on the local country radio station and I would probably know the lyrics at a moment’s notice. There’s shame in admitting that because popular country, as we know it, is for the white, conservative, heteronormative people of the world. Almost all of the top 40 musicians are cisgender straight dudes, and who among us wants to support that, right?

Since coming into my queer identity, this is one of the many contradictions I’ve felt I need to reckon with. But I am determined to prove to myself and to you, my skeptical readers, that country (and its associated genres like folk and americana) is so queer — and not just cis gay male queer but expansively, fluidly, gloriously queer! So, I went digging to find us some of the most radical, raging, talented queer country and americana artists for us to listen to this Pride.

Want to know how to RAGE this Pride? Host a cookout, bump our queer country playlist, and get these queers to the top 40.

Before I delve into the mini interviews I conducted with each of these artists, take a look at their bios to get to know them and their music a little better.

Madeline Kelson the country singer in an orange short sleeve set leans against a fence in a field

Madeleine Kelson (she/her) is a Nashville based Americana artist. She pulls from a rich tradition of folk, country, and Americana, challenging its boundaries as a queer artist, to represent the modern world.

Brody Ray, a transmasc country singer, wears a black tee and flat brimmed hat while crouching on a bridge

Brody Ray‘s (he/him) music is a cross between the rock/pop influences he loved growing up and the country music and lyric that surrounded him and his whole life as he grew up and experienced life in Kearney, NE. It’s just what comes out when he writes!

Mercy Bell a queer country singer wears a red bandana and black tank and has arm tattoos and is standing in a field with her hands on her hips

Mercy Bell (she/hers) is “A potent, progressive take on emotive, modern folk” (Rolling Stone Country) and a “shape-shifting songsmith” (The Nashville Scene).

Jobi Rico has a mullet and wears a Western style button down in multiple colors and sits in a field at golden hour

Jobi Riccio (she/they) is a songwriter and performer based out of Nashville, TN originally hailing from Colorado. They are a queer lifelong country music fan. While not all the music they write is specifically country, there is a strong twang-y thread that runs through it, and they hope to use this to challenge ideas of what it means to be both queer and country.

D'orjay wears a gold headpiece and black shiny cropped top and has their hands on their hips in a dramatic pose

D’orjay (they/them) says “this ain’t your grandaddy’s country music,” despite it paying homage to the classic country music that artist D’orjay grew up with in rural Alberta. And it sure as hell ain’t stadium girls-trucks-beer country. Instead, they colour outside the lines with anthemic, bold blues, honky-tonk and rock-flavoured roots with a distinct queer twist.

Mya plays guitar on stage in jeans and a black jacket

Mya (Mimi) Byrne (she/her/and sometimes they) is a celebrated singer-songwriter signed to Kill Rock Stars Nashville, and her new album, Rhinestone Tomboy, has been lauded in NPR, Rolling Stone, and No Depression, among others.

Like a crackling backyard fire outside of a city at dusk, stars on one side of the sky and light pollution on the other, Mya’s music is in the pocket of traditional country and Americana, yet firmly rooted in the modern world. A proud and out queer trans woman, she is at the forefront of the queer country movement.

Meredith wears a black tee and has shoulder length curly hair and is lit in purple lighting

Meredith Shock (she/hers) is a queer singer/songwriter whose songs are her journal entries.

Kimber wears a cowboy hat and a blue Western style buttondown

Kimber Springs (she/they) music is heavily inspired by their hometown, Nashville. They love giving their own take on country music.

What/Who inspired you to become a musician?

Madeleine

I grew up surrounded by music. My mom started my sister and I on violin when we were four, and we grew up singing along to the radio in three part harmony. Music and songwriting have always been my emotional outlet, so I guess the feeling of catharsis, and the adrenaline of being on stage inspired me more than any one artist.

Brody

My inspiration for music started at a very young age. My mom has video footage of me running around in a diaper and cowboy boots with a Flintstones toy guitar jamming out to whatever music video was on the TV. My mother was and still is a very talented pianist, singer, and accordion player, and when I was about eight years old, she asked if I wanted to play an instrument and she took me to the music store and we picked out my first guitar! I also picked up singing, cello, and piano and took lessons all the way through college. My uncle used to teach me piano and singing as well. I had so many favorite artists that inspired me to chase a career in entertaining and songwriting. Artists like Dashboard Confessional, Sheryl Crow, Lenny Kravitz, Michelle Branch, Third Eye Blind, Taking Back Sunday, The Starting Line, Paramore, Tim McGraw, Jason Aldean… I could go on for days with a list of all the artists and groups that have made me fall in love with music and influenced my songwriting.

Mercy

I grew up in an artistic family, and creativity was part of every day life. They were supportive of my talents before I believed in myself. I remember my mom telling me I should move to NYC and pursue music and my uncle showing me how to book gigs because he had been a promoter. And my voice teacher Marcelle, who also encouraged me to make music.

Jobi

My first musical loves were angry female country artists: The Chicks, Miranda Lambert, the list goes on. I was obsessed with the way they sang with such attitude and power and spent hours in my room singing along to their CDs. It wasn’t until I began writing my own songs and was supported by older musicians in my local scene that I felt confident enough to start playing out, so I owe a lot to their support and the support of my family.

D’orjay

I think certainly just growing up in a musical family. My mom just was a fan of the arts in general. Even growing up in a small town, and in particular, growing up on a farm on an acreage at a young age, there was still just a bunch of value that was put on music and creativity and acting and imagination and that kind of stuff in my family. As much as listening to other artists was a part of it, I think it really started there.

Mya/Mimi

Since my childhood, I wanted to be a musician, ever since I saw a guitar being played. My earliest influences were Elvis and Madonna, to be honest, and Jimi Hendrix really showed me the extent of expressiveness I wanted to aspire to. Once I found him, there was really no turning back.

Meredith

I’ve always wanted to be a singer. As a young kid, I was constantly singing along to the country songs my mom would play in the car. There isn’t just one performer that I can point to as inspiration — the country women in the 90’s were my favorite! Eventually Taylor Swift inspired me to write more truthfully and continue to want to chase my dreams.

Kimber

My father was a singer, so I was surrounded by good music and some of the best musicians around, including my guitar teacher Regi Wooten. He had a huge impact on me.

What are you most proud of thus far in your career?

Madeleine

In the past couple years, I’ve gotten to play with artists that I really look up to and was featured a couple times in NPR, which has been a bucket list thing for me! Even more than that, I’m really proud of a queer country song I put out last year called “The Way I Do.” The tag is “if I don’t get to heaven for loving her true, god has never loved a woman the way I do.” It was essentially my career coming out. I was so nervous to release it, but the response has been incredibly encouraging. Hearing people say that they grew up on country music and felt like it didn’t represent them as adults until they found this song is really moving. Being able to be that artist for people makes me feel like I’m doing something right.

Brody

I think the one thing I’m most proud of so far is the opportunity I got to sing on America’s Got Talent season 13 when I came out as trans to the whole room and world. From all the thousands of messages I got on social media, I realized it really helped a lot of people understand what it means and looks like to be trans and for others like me to come out, transition, chase their dreams, and just be authentic and happy. That was such a huge moment for me as a person and an artist and for representing trans people around the world. It really boosted my musical career as well! Recording and producing my cover version of the first song I sang on the show “Stand In the Light” was a big deal as well. It has over 1,270,000 streams on Spotify. I’m super proud of that!

Mercy

That I’ve made the music I want to make without anyone restricting me. I’ve made all my albums through crowdfunding (and maxing out my credit cards) so I’ve had complete artistic freedom. I can be myself.

Jobi

I’m really proud of my choice to come out as queer professionally, not just personally, which I did via social media in 2020. I feel like when I perform now, I can show up as my whole self and not like I’m playing a character and wearing a costume like I often felt before I came out.

D’orjay

Honestly, I think just that I went for it you know. I guess for some people, it doesn’t really resonate. But I felt like before I went down this music route, I already had lived a pretty full life and kind of really went for some things. And this is just something for myself I really wanted to do. And I had to just overcome a lot of internal and certainly some external barriers. So to kind of pick up the microphone, quote, unquote, at around 35. And just kind of going for it. I think that’s what I’m proud of. Everything else is, honestly, a cherry on a nice cake. I’m proud that I did this, so I won’t regret that.

Mya/Mimi

Quite frankly, staying alive and continuing to work without compromise. On a career goal level, playing in front of 18,000 people at the Love Rising concert in Nashville this spring, sharing the bill with Allison Russell, Maren Morris, Yola, Jason Isbell, and other heroes. Kissing my trans partner Swan Real in front of all of those people, showing the world that trans love is sacred…that’s my proudest moment onstage. But offstage? Probably the person who came up to me after a recent show who told me that my openness was the catalyst for them coming out to their parent as nonbinary. It made me cry.

Meredith

I’ve played two really energetic shows this past year — one being a single release show that my mom and aunt flew out and surprised me for. This was my first full band show with all original music, which was just crazy to hear that happening in real life! The second show I’m proud of was for Louisville Loves Emo. I did three acoustic emo cover songs to a crowd of over 600 people. This was the largest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and I felt like I was on top of the world.

Kimber

I am most proud of my songwriting. I have always struggled to feel like my words were any good, but I feel like I’ve gotten to a place where I really believe in what I have to say.

Have you ever felt out of place in the industry?

Madeleine

One hundred percent, yes. When I first moved to Nashville, I played a lot of country shows and wrote with a lot of country writers. Country has a long history of excluding queer people (and people of color, women…basically anyone that’s not a straight, white, Christian man…) and although we have the same taste in women (cue the laugh track), as a queer, Jewish woman, I don’t exactly fit that bill. I thought coming out publicly would kill my career before it could even take off. There are still times I find myself not playing more overtly queer songs at shows. Fortunately, in the past few years, the Americana community has made an intentional effort to not only include, but uplift queer artists, and artists of color.

Brody

I think I have always felt out of place in the music industry and country music mostly, mainly because I feel like most of the industry people would run if they actually knew I was trans, and I think that it has kept me from really getting much further here in Nashville. I just feel STUCK, and that’s is such a terrible feeling. I could be wrong though, and I think it’s worth sticking around to find out. I have been met with only kindness and love for the most part here, but most people don’t know I’m trans until I tell them.

Mercy

Not in indie scenes. Not with other artists. Yes, in the music industry proper. Music Row in Nashville doesn’t know I exist, or if they do they’ve never reached out. I’ve also kept my distance somewhat, because there’s a lot of sexual harassment and misogyny. I had enough instances of being around creeps that I finally just stopped seeking out those industry spaces. Music journalists have been really kind to me and my lifesaver. They’ve always taken notice and helped me out. (I’m talking to you, case in point). And fans. Fans have given me my career.

Jobi

I’ve felt a little out of place in lots of spaces both musical and otherwise; I think lots of queer people feel this in all facets of our lives. In music, I’ve been called “too country” for the indie scene, and “not country enough” for the country scene — in a way it’s perfectly representative of who I am as a person and the music I make, kind of somewhere in the middle of a few different things.

D’orjay

Yeah. All the time? I don’t know. All the time. I think it’s too much for me to even go into that further. Other than just to answer the question directly. I feel out of place in the industry often and all the time. And it’s why I I don’t think I really participate in a ton of things traditionally that musicians in my position do.

Mya/Mimi

I often feel out of place. Despite being lauded by my peers and industry allies, I’ve been told more than once that I don’t fit in, literally, to so many of the wonderful places I aspire to play, or to agents who want to put me in a box. At the end of the day, I just want to make a living, and since the anti-trans laws started ramping up last year, I’ve found it extremely difficult to get work.

Meredith

I’ve most definitely felt out of place in the industry — maybe even most of the time. I live in Nashville, so you’d think it would be easy to feel comfortable being a musician in “music city” but it’s quite hard. It’s easy to fall into the habit of constantly comparing yourself to everyone around you. Luckily, there’s a wonderful and supportive queer music community here.

Kimber

I have definitely felt out of place in the industry. I think in any genre, there is a lot of pressure for women and perceived women to be feminine and sexy, and I don’t exactly fit that mold.

Why is it important for us queer folks to make country music?

Madeleine

I think at its core, music is supposed to represent and resonate with people’s feelings and experiences. Country is no different. Any time you exclude the perspective of an entire group of people, you miss out on their stories and experiences. We deserve to be heard, and we deserve to hear music that we can hear ourselves in. The best way to make that happen is to keep showing up, keep being loud, and keep making music.

Brody

I think it’s so important for queer folks to keep making country music, because representation and visibility is the most important thing. Music, no matter the genre, is a human experience we all connect with in some way. It speaks for us, it helps us process things, it brings people together, it helps us feel things we need to feel and express. It’s therapeutic. It unites humans in a way nothing else can. Having queer representation in country gives hope to queer people around the world that country music is for ALL and ALL are welcome. Unfortunately, more than any other genre, I think country music has always had a stigma around it that straight white religious/conservative people hold the reigns of country music, and to have queer folk infiltrate that space is sinful, forsaken as queer folk try to scale the conservative walls that so many of us queer country folk seem to run into at some point as artists. As if we aren’t included or welcome. It’s the signal I’m getting anyways. But as time goes on, more and more artists are emerging and coming out AFTER they have made it big. Which is kind of discouraging for me as a person who’s already come out. But if we don’t have these big artist infiltrating country music this way, how will it ever change? It’s almost like a trojan horse hahaha. So I totally get it. They are coming out from within and unlocking the doors from inside for the rest of us to come in. Music doesn’t discriminate. Everyone, queer, Black, white, brown enjoys country music just because they do! We as humans don’t need to have reasons for enjoying a certain genre of music. We just like what we like! I think being open in country helps unite our people and country. There is no other genre of music out there that singles out a certain type of person for the way they were born. Knocking down those barriers is so important for progress. If we don’t talk about it or see it, we stay stuck.

Mercy

Harlan Howard said “‘All you need to write a country song is three chords and the truth”, I’m pretty sure queer folks have a lot of truth to tell.

Jobi

Up until very recently, I feel like it was understood in the broader culture that country music belonged to primarily straight cis white conservative people. Of course, LGBTQ country artists have always been here — pioneers such as Lavender Country were writing and releasing queer country music long before the internet — but they were either never taken seriously by the industry or silenced by it. Because of this history and those who paved the way, it’s a huge deal that queer country artists and fans feel empowered enough to create spaces that celebrate our love for — and our place in — country music.

D’orjay

Because it’s hard fucking music man. Three chords and the truth. I think queer people are always at the forefront, and the trailblazers of living their most authentic and genuine lives and being their most authentic selves and striving for that and creating space for more people to be able to do that. And I feel like that is the essence of country music in my mind.

Mya/Mimi

Queer people and trans folks have always been a part of country. Our lives carry a gravitas that are in line with what is most cherished in this music…stories, relatable stories, of the outsider, of warmth, of love, of simple enjoyment of moments. We are the ones who can truly lay claim to being the children of the outlaw country movement, and we have that in our bones. There’s a throughline from Waylon to Willie to Jessi Colter to all of us queers. And the more visible we are, the more we can change the status quo. I’m a firm believer in the power of being out, and there are still so many in the closet. I hope all of us who are doing it inspire more folks to be able to do so.

Meredith

I moved to Nashville wanting to do country music because it’s what I grew up listening to. The first songs I released really show that country side of me, but my music has since evolved. Heteronormative narratives are woven so deeply into country stories, so as I started to relate less to the genre, I started aligning more with the soft pop genre.

I’ve still embraced the storytelling style of songwriting that country music is all about. This country influence will always be the core of my musicality, and I am so excited when I see queer country artists perform. I think it’s important for folks to stake a claim within a space that might not always be tolerant and accepting. This is really the only way the genre will grow. I don’t ever want kids now who love country to look up and walk away from the genre because they don’t see themselves in these stories.

Kimber

It’s important because there’s a lot of country ass queer people. I don’t think people realize how many of us are out here.

Can music be an act of protest? Celebration? Love?

Madeleine

I think music is innately all of those things. With queer music, it’s often all three at once. When I play a queer love song, its existence alone is, for better or for worse, an act of protest. On the one hand, making music is a genuine and meaningful way to be visible. On the other hand, it kind of sucks that any time I write a love song, it’s not just a love song, but a political statement.

Brody

I think that’s exactly what all music IS. It’s all human emotion. Fear, anger, sadness, grief, celebration, love, happiness, freedom, protest, education, fiction, letting go, moving on, partying and having fun, overcoming, soaking up life’s many turns and experiences. Especially country music. It’s all about heart, and we all have that. Music is uniting if done correctly and with the right intentions. It’s how we express our individuality. It should always be that way!

Mercy

A catchy song has power. It gets stuck in your head rent free, no matter who you are. Think of how much impact that is if you start saying things that are subversive and true. That’s the ultimate protest move.

Jobi

Music, like all art, is a documentation of human history and culture. In my opinion, any art created by people who’ve been silenced and oppressed is a form of all three of those things: protest, love, and celebration. I recently came across a sermon from a trans preacher based out of West Virginia (@the..reverend on tiktok) who put it beautifully so I’ll share their words here:

“Let’s use our rage to make art and dance. To leave so many beautiful pieces of ourselves in the history books that no one can burn us away entirely”

D’orjay

Yes, yes, and yes, absolutely. I feel like I have songs that are an act of all of those things in “New Kind of Outlaw” and my album.

Mya/Mimi

Music can and is celebration, catharsis, love, hope…when you can create a moment that resonates across boundaries that separate us as human beings, when music carries a power, it breaks down the divisions in the working class and brings us together. And that’s why so many people are scared of our power and our love. It’s our freedom that frightens those who push against us.

Meredith

I think all of the above! Music can be anything we want it to be. Even songs that I’ve written with personal experience in mind, people have come up to share that they connected with the lyrics in a completely different way — and that’s okay! A song doesn’t have to have one meaning. Relating to a song is about what you think it means, and in some ways, what you need it to mean in the moment — even if the writer didn’t intend for this.

Kimber

Country music has always been rooted in speaking your truth and questioning the status quo. Artists like Charlie Pride, Dolly Parton, and Willie Nelson are great examples of that.

Pretend we could hook you up with anyone in the industry to collaborate on a single? Who would you choose and why?

Madeleine

I’m a huge Brandi Carlile fan! I used to think that I couldn’t be queer and have a successful career in country or Americana. Watching her success showed me that I could be out and have a career. I think I owe a lot of my courage as an artist to her. She’s such a massive talent, and she’s also just so cool.

Brody

Oh gosh that’s a hard one! I think it would come down to probably Sam Hunt because I LOVE his style of songwriting and wish I could be as good! I feel like his style is exactly what I hope to achieve. Maren Morris, honestly the same, she’s so talented and has so much love for the queer community. Can we throw Hayley Williams and Dolly in there? Cuz why not? What’s not to love?

Mercy

Jack Antonoff and Taylor Swift. I think they’re pop geniuses, and Taylor Swift is one of my favorite songwriters.

Jobi

I would love to do a song with Aaron Lee Tasjan. His latest record has been on repeat for me basically since it came out, and I really relate to how he writes about and celebrates his queerness in his music. I’ve always identified with being both masculine and feminine and have come to celebrate that, so his song “Feminine Walk” really hits for me.

D’orjay

Oh, man. I’ve got a few. Like, I want k.d. lang. I would love to because we’re from a really similar region. And in terms of like, queer country music and tickets to the music. She’s making the 80s so good. I think it’d be cool to do a song with Lil Nas X for so many obvious reasons. I think it’d be cool to have a country tune produced with Pharrell or something like that or just a cool producer that you wouldn’t normally expect to do a country song. And Pharrell was behind so much of the music, you know, r&b and hip hop, that I listened to in that era when he was part of the Neptunes. And then as always, Garth Brooks, you know, he’s always gonna be that guy. He was a big part of my connection to country music and family and just growing up honestly, just sitting in a garage. You know, singing songs with my best friends growing up.

Mya/Mimi

Well, there are so so so many people I would love to collaborate with. Willie Nelson. Chris Stapleton. Yola. k.d. lang. Harry Styles. Brandi Carlile. These folks all share my love of truth telling, of sharing the resonances of life’s observations that I believe are the cornerstones of the best songwriting, and the truth is that trans artists need to be platformed by our peers who *are* highly successful, because we are still diminished and invalidated by so so many folks. When trans people are being treated as equals, boundaries break down. I think we could write some real bangers, too.

Meredith

Easily Taylor Swift. Her writing is remarkable, and to see how she has grown as an artist and successfully transitioned to a different genre is so admirable. You can tell she loves what she does.

Kimber

It’s my dream to collab with Shania Twain. She’s such a living legend, and I think we would make a banger together!

How are you celebrating this Pride?

Madeleine

Honestly, probably by spending time at home with my fiancée and our dog. I love Pride, and I think it’s so important to celebrate the beauty and joy of being queer. I feel fortunate enough to be surrounded by a community that never makes me feel othered. At the same time, I live in Tennessee, which is essentially at war with queer people. At this point in my life, celebrating Pride looks like taking a moment to hit pause on the fight, and taking time for myself to forget that there’s anything “different” enough about me to celebrate.

There will always be work to do, but there is something so important about letting yourself rest. I know that might sound like kind of a buzzkill, but it has been a really freeing feeling and an empowering act of caring for myself.

Brody

This Pride month, I’m going to spend my time performing for a few Pride-related events like Delaware Pride June 10, the Pride round at the Bluebird Cafe June 22, and Dallas Pride street festival June 24! I always make some posts on social media and put out my Pride flag and lights on the porch. Maybe a Pride photoshoot with my family and always supporting and celebrating inclusive businesses as well.

Mercy

I’m headed to Chicago to help with rehearsals for a queer musical I’m co-writing called “Leather Daddies.” It’s a rock opera about the underground gay sexual revolution in 1950s/60s Chicago. It’s being workshopped through About Face Theatre, and we got a National Endowment for the Arts grant. We’ll have a performance, free to the public, on June 18.

Jobi

I’ve been struggling with this in the wake of so many horrific attacks on the queer and specifically the trans community nationally this year. As cliche as it sounds, I think the best thing we can do in moments like this is be in community with each other and support and uplift those of us who need it most. I think leaning into community is the whole point of Pride and especially important to remember amidst all the rainbow capitalism and heavy drinking culture that tends to really miss the point. Pride is a protest as much as it is a celebration, and it is for us and by us and it can look however we want and need it to look.

D’orjay

Man Prides’ every day. I’m celebrating being queer every day.

Mya/Mimi

One of our sweethearts is flying into New York to stay with me and Swan, and we are going to walk around this city, kiss and hug our friends, and generally be as gay as humanly possible.

Meredith

I will be going to Nashville’s Pride! The day of the festival is also my four years with my girlfriend, so we will be celebrating us, too!

Kimber

I’m celebrating Pride this year by getting the hell out of town and going fishing.

Anything you want to plug?

Madeleine

Check out my most recent album here!

Mercy

Lookout for my song with Melody Walker, “Jesus Was a Drag Queen,” released June 2!

Brody

Hmmm, I did release my new single on Valentine’s Day called “Make A Love Song With Me” and I’m really ‘PROUD’ of this one. I have another queer artist featured on it; her name is Carmen Dianne and she takes the song to a WHOLE different level. Let’s just say I picked the right female vocalist! She’s so amazing, and I want everyone to hear it! I wrote and produced all the parts and went through two producers before I found Gabriel, who brought it all together the way I always imagined it would sound.

Check out his audition on AGT and so much more here and this cover of Carrie Underwood’s “Heartbeat”!

Jobi

I have a new single “Sweet” coming out June 20 I wrote as a queer country self-love anthem for my younger self. You can also preorder my debut record “Whiplash” that will be out in September now!

D’orjay

Yeah, I’m working on a little bit of a rebrand right now; I’m just gonna kind of be going by myself and then including my band in that as well. And just working on some new music. I’m really excited about the next album to come out. When it gets out, who can say, but yeah, I’m starting to do some recording again next month in June, and so yeah, I’ll be releasing that soon.

Mya/Mimi

My record is out now, and I do hope y’all will love it and share it…and buy the purple vinyl! The most important thing to me is getting the word out to trans and queer people that artists like me exist and that there is a world out there for them, that no matter what the genre is, it can be yours. Especially country and Americana.

Meredith

My debut EP was released in the Fall and it’s basically about my entire relationship! It’s catchy, queer, and sweet!

Kimber

I have my first single called “Small Town Love” coming out very soon! Stay tuned.

While these artists couldn’t make it in this piece, I wanted to give some shoutouts to musicians who are 100% queer, country, and phenomenal. Amythyst Kiah (check out “Black Myself”), Thao & the Get Down Stay Down’s (check out “Holy Roller”), and Crys Matthews’ (check out “Prodigal Son”). Check them out in the playlist!

Countdown to Pride: Mocktails in Every Color of the Rainbow

It’s two days until Pride, and I’m here to give you some beverage ideas and things to add to your grocery list ahead of any Pride gatherings where there might be sober folks! Whether you’re sober yourself or just have people in your life who don’t drink or go through periods of not drinking, there’s no reason the only nonalcoholic options on hand have to be canned seltzer! Sober pals will appreciate a little extra effort. And if you’re headed to a friend’s place and unsure if they’ll have anything fun for you to drink as a sober person, you should feel empowered to bring your own ingredients for a great mocktail or suggest alternative options to your friend! I love doing mixology at home, and any time I come up with a new elixir, I also think of an N/A version in case anyone requests! Below, you’ll find an array of mocktail recipes that fit different flavor profiles but are mostly made with simple ingredients you can pick up at the grocery store. They’re organized by color, with drinks in every shade of the rainbow, because listen, sometimes I just have to lean into being corny when it comes to Pride. Live laugh lesbian, and cheers queers!!!!!!!!

Raspberry Mojito Mocktail

Fizzy Cherry Mocktail

Watermelon Mint Mocktail

Citrus Orange Mocktail

Carrot Citrus Sunrise Mocktail

A champagne flute of carrot citrus mocktail with a carrot garnish — via Kitchen Cents

Carrot Orange Mocktail

Papaya Lemonade

Lemon Drop Mocktail

Pineapple & Lime Mocktail

A glass of pineapple and lime mocktail with a salt rim — via BBC Good Food

Pineapple Mocktail Margaritas

A margarita glass of pineapple mocktail — via Grandbaby Cakes

Frozen Mango Pineapple Mocktails

Two margarita glasses of frozen mango pineapple mocktail — via Soap Deli News

Celery, Lime, and Mint Mocktail

Inside Out Virgin Mary Mocktail

Three glasses of green mocktail bloody marys with tomato and cornichon garnishes — via Better Homes and Gardens

Green Goddess Mocktail

Glowing Green Margarita Mocktail

Two salt rimmed glasses of a green mocktail with lime garnishes — via Fit Living Eats

Blue Lagoon Mocktail

Two glasses of a blue mocktail with lemon slices, orange slices, cherries, and umbrella garnishes — via Crowded Kitchen

Citrus Magic Blue Mocktail

A glass of purple mocktail with crushed ice and a gold straw — via Mindful Mocktail

Non-Alcoholic Blueberry Mojito

Lavender Lemonade

Two glasses of lavender mocktail with rosemary, lavender, and lemon slices for garnish — via The Cookie Rookie

Violet Drink

Two glasses of purple mocktail with blackberry garnishes. — via Mocktail.net

A Message From The CEO/CFO

Hey there, Autostraddler,

We wish this message came with better news, but it doesn’t. As we’re sure you’re aware, the economic and media landscape is hell right now. And, for the first time in our history, Autostraddle is making cuts for financial reasons.

While your support, via A+ and donations, has held steady this year — and we’re eternally and forever grateful to you because YOU are the only thing keeping us here at all — our advertising revenue has fallen significantly from last year’s. (Not for lack of trying!) With ad companies pulling back their budgets, I had to make what was one of the hardest decisions of my life and scale back our operations.

This means that we both will not be hiring a new Art Director (instead those duties are being shared among senior team members) and we are terminating the freelance contracts of our Subject Editors on July 31, 2023. These were part-time 20 hours/week independent contractor positions that paid a base rate of $2,000/month for writing and editing 6 posts a month as well as other subject-specific duties, with additional payments for writing and editing work beyond the contracted amount. The subject editors and our team were given notice of this on May 10th, and you might have seen that our Ro, Vanessa and Shelli have begun looking for other work. If you have leads, please do feel free to share those directly with them. Ro has elected to stay on the team as a writer, but Vanessa and Shelli will be moving on entirely and we’re going to miss them a whole hell of a lot.

During the pandemic we dreamed big. We started out with massive, weeks-long fundraisers that tested the limits of our physical and mental energy and hours in the day, especially for Nico. We managed to avoid cuts, thanks to PPP loans and ad checks from 2019. We’d hoped that the landscape starting in 2022 would be gentler on our mental/physical health and we’d be nimbly able to get our ad revenue back up, and I took out a $200k SBA loan in 2022 to avoid making budget cuts. That loan bought us an extra year without cuts — but now we have to scale back or we will shut down. We still might, but I am doing everything I can to find a new path forward.

Prior to now, we were one of the few media companies who haven’t made cuts over the last few years of financial uncertainty in the industry. I really liked that about us. But it’s happening everywhere, at media companies with much deeper pockets than ours.

Thanks to your financial support, both during our most recent fundraiser and those of you who are A+ members, we were able to offer Shelli, Vanessa, and Ro three months advance paid notice and hopefully, through that, a runway to find other work. At their request, we paid out the entirety of the three months ahead of time. We offered them the opportunity to remain on the team as writers, and to be able to offer them 25% of their original stipend ($500) for 25% of their work starting July 31st. It wasn’t an irresistible offer, and it doesn’t reflect the immense value of these editors.

These are three incredible people who have put so much of their time and heart and energy into Autostraddle.

Vanessa has been here for longer than anyone besides me and Laneia. Her heart is stitched into our walls. She’s unrivaled in her ability to foster and build community, to scream in support for your hot date and your amazing essay. Her writing is accessible and intimate, she has convinced you to take butt selfies, sleep with your friends, and really truly understand that you are hot. She taught you to be a slut and also to date and also to get married. She has given so much to Autostraddle and we are so grateful for her humor and heart — which have become intertwined with our own.

As our Sex and Dating Editor, Ro has championed bringing voices into sex that are often left out, making a space for everyone in the queer and trans community to muff and masturbate and finger with chronic pain in their hands. Ro has covered so much important and highly specific territory in their own writing and the voices thy’ve brought to the site, applying their wealth of experience to accessible content about sex, from the epic Gay B C’s of sex to pubic hairstyles. They’ve also done fantastic progressive political work, humor pieces, and a very inspirational butt week playlist.

From the jump it was clear Shelli was special — she was organizing live pandemic programming and eventually hustling to get into film festivals and pulling off incredible interviews. Her “Come Vibe With Me” column is one of my favorite things we’ve ever published. Strap Week was legendary. Her writing is so alive, so funny, and so unique. Every time she has 25-35 thoughts on a movie or television show, I need to know every single one of them.

We are also so incredibly devastated about losing a powerful Black voice right now. If we could afford to keep Shelli’s role as a Culture Editor or any of the Subject Editor roles, we would. Shelli is a treasure. She’s a star. Nobody with the money in the bank to keep her in that role would ever not do so. Especially us, especially with the goals we have, and all the work Shelli has done personally to move us forward with them.

We do want to be clear with our Black readers and supporters that the closing of the Subject Editor role is not a reverse course on our commitments to centering Black and other QTPOC voices and perspectives at the core of Autostraddle. The goals we put into place in 2019 remain, and the editors will adapt creatively as we switch more responsibilities onto the Senior Team. We have an amazing group of writers of color on our team and we’ll all be pitching in to recruit and foster and center Black voices and experiences on our website. Nothing, however, can replace Shelli’s specific voice.

During our last fundraiser, we asked you, our readers and funders, to buy us some time to figure out a way forward. In the past we made other promises — new hires, improvements — and in the past, we promised we would avoid cuts. We didn’t make that promise during this year’s fundraiser because by the time we got there, I already knew cuts were possibly on the horizon. The first was realizing we couldn’t afford to hire another full-time Art Director after Viv Lee, our previous AD, moved to Berlin. Those duties have been redistributed to all of us on the senior staff, with Viv staying on to manage our instagram as an independent contractor.

The fundraiser gave us a little extra money to ease the pain of any potential cuts if they came, although at that time we were still hoping to avoid them altogether. It was really important to us that we would be able to offer anybody losing a position — including independent contractors — three months notice. Again, because of the fundraiser, which we know so many of you supported, we were able to offer three months of paid notice.

We remain committed to keeping Autostraddle around, for y’all, for emerging queer and trans writers, for our readers and community — and I’m really sorry that for all our idealism, and all the many things we’ve tried, and the work and the tears we’ve all put in to avoid this — that it’s come to making cuts and scaling back financially. This is a hurtful decision. We are losing two of our best and most important team members, I know we’re cutting the positions of Subject Editors who have been hustling for us for years, who have been amazing ambassadors for Autostraddle, building community and pitching in on ad campaigns and hosting events and writing and editing incredible work.

I feel that you all might have questions about the recently successful fundraiser, and I’m here to answer them. That fundraiser was successful, and it successfully filled up the “fundraiser” piece in our budget. But that’s only one piece of the pie — the pie also contains advertising, merchandise, affiliate revenue and A+ memberships. We got extra slices in 2020 and 2021 in the form of PPP loans we didn’t have to pay back. We didn’t have that in 2022, so I took out an $200k SBA loan. In order to maintain our 2022 budget in 2023, we needed advertising to fill the hole of the loan, and we also need to start paying back that loan.

When we asked you this year to save us from shutting down, you turned up big-time. A lot of you were also asking me why we keep running ourselves this close to the edge and why I as a CEO and CFO allow this. It was clear, to you, that our budget was too high for what we could reasonably earn at our size, if we so frequently found ourselves on the verge of closure. And you were right. We have no runway. We need to start building reliable, recurring revenue streams. Fundraising is a band-aid but now we need to fortify the ship.

So, I’ve opted to make Autostraddle smaller. Between pay cuts taken by senior team members, ending the subject editor contracts, cutting operational costs and not rehiring an Art Director, we’re shaving off over $200,000 in annual costs.

We’re drawing in our defenses and doing our best to fortify what we have left. We are doing this with grief in the hope that it will allow us to weather the rest of the year, and years to come, in hopes we can build back what’s been lost. I am trying to figure out a sustainable path for our future and I hope that you’ll stick with us, and that if you have leads for Shelli, Vanessa or Ro, that you’ll share those directly with them. A+ members can see what our annual revenue streams looked like last year or in previous years via our annual report.

Some have asked us why we couldn’t simply fundraise for more. Nico brings years of experience to it but we unfortunately can’t fundraise for more or for longer with a department of one that also relies on an already maxed-out senior team for fundraising efforts. In 2021, Nico worked excessive hours to keep this place open and everyone paid through a pandemic. Any revenue stream that entails that many hours or leads to someone working to the point of physical unwellness is not okay with me. Nico loves this place so much that they were more than willing to do two fundraisers in 2022, but I made the decision to take out an SBA loan instead. We can’t do frequent fundraisers if fundraisers require that many hours of work, especially Nico’s and Carmen’s. The past two have been shorter, in part because they’ve been less frequent with smaller initial goals, to save the health of Nico and the team. I set a time limit of two weeks for our most recent fundraiser, regardless of what we’d raised in that time. We’ve learned a lot from every fundraiser about what we’re capable of raising and how long it takes to raise it.

In 2022 and 2023, we just did one fundraiser, but each of those entailed long hours from Nico and seven-day work weeks for many of us leading up, again, for months. Fundraiser time is peak insanity — in terms of non-Nico senior staff commitment, in the leadup it’s extra work from me and the Art Director and during the fundraiser it’s senior editors and social. It’s like another job on top of the multiple jobs we each already have. It’s all hands on deck and it’s really unhealthy for all of us. There’s just no way for Nico and the team to put in more effort than we already do. My workload is insurmountable on the best day. Frequent fundraisers present major challenges for us to meet our editorial and our traffic goals and work on other recurring sources of revenue.

While this may not be the most professional way to say this, especially coming from a CEO’s letter, I have no other way to put it: This all really sucks, and I’m really sorry. I will miss Vanessa and Shelli so much. I’m glad we’ll still have Ro in the capacity that we can afford to pay for. All of us have taken on more work and responsibility, with no pay increases.

The elimination of these positions does not mean that the work of these great editors in service to our community won’t be done. We are going to continue to publish about queer sex, and culture and community, we will continue to offer queer advice, and we will continue to center QTPOC voices and perspectives through it all. We are all beyond exhausted, and we still plan to continue to serve you. The path ahead is difficult, but I had to make a choice between making cuts now or Autostraddle having no future, and I chose to keep hoping, and working and trying for that future.

I invite you to bring any questions you have into the comments of this post. I understand if you’re mad, frustrated or devastated by this news.

This is our first time making cuts like this. We made mistakes in the way this messaging was communicated — to the Subject Editors, to our people on slack and externally — and have gotten a lot of open-hearted feedback about the ways in which that communication was not what they’d come to expect from us. For example, our message to the whole team on Slack also lacked the level of transparency our team needed from us at this time, and we are working to rectify that.

Also, I gave the go-ahead to Subject Editors to start posting on social media about looking for work without consulting with Nico, who would’ve advised that we communicate this with our members and readers before you saw it on social media. So you ended up hearing the news from social media instead. That is my fault and I’m sorry.

Thank you for allowing us to work to provide you with the transparency you deserve.

Thank you for being here, even in these difficult times,
Riese

Countdown to Pride: 100 Songs To Get You Ready for Running Into All Your Exes Next Month

a statue wearing headphones with the words NINE DAYS 2 PRIDE and a set of lit matches

Countdown to Pride

As we countdown to Pride this year, there’s a lot to celebrate and a lot to rage about. There’s no one decided-upon way to feel about it, and there’s no one right way to celebrate June. Maybe you’re spending the month partying with friends, organizing a protest, taking a trip with your partner, hosting a community event, or staying home alone to reflect and take care of yourself. Pride celebrations can look like whatever feels honest and exciting to you.

For those looking to get out and celebrate with their communities or vacate your city’s local queer joints, you might find yourself running into exes, past lovers, future lovers, or estranged friends who did or do run in the same circles as you. And depending on who you’re bumping into, you may or may not need to give yourself a pep talk beforehand. Or maybe you like to embrace the chaos for all that it is and bask in it.

No matter where you are, who you’re planning on celebrating with, and what you’re planning to do this month, let’s get pumped up for Pride together and everything that could mean. Even if that implies sharing a space with someone from your past or reconnecting with an ex. Enjoy these 100 songs for your Pride month to prepare to run into all your exes or just to have fun with — the choice is yours! I’ve personally had a hell of year so far and we’re only halfway through it, so I’ll be using this playlist as a roadtrip soundtrack for my partner and I while we skip town and celebrate Pride somewhere different this year.

Get angry, get horny, get introspective! Metaphorically, I’m raising a glass to your and yours this Pride month. Here’s six full hours of sounds for setting the Pride mood this year.

Countdown to Pride is an Autostraddle miniseries leading up to Pride 2023. There are nine days until Pride month — are you ready?

Countdown to Pride: Okay Gays, What Flannels Are We Tying Around Our Waists This Year?

a flannel and a set of lit matches and the words TEN DAYS 2 PRIDE

Countdown to Pride

Here at Autostraddle, planning content around Pride can be a bit of a conundrum. It’s frustrating to see mainstream outlets only elevate in-depth content about the LGBTQ+ community and only really work with a bunch of queer and trans writers for one month out of the year, when we’re queer everywhere all the time. At the same time, Pride is immensely important to us here at Autostraddle and to a lot of our readers. It’s an ongoing part of LGBTQ+ history and resistance. It’s a complex month, which even the most well intentioned mainstream media Pride packages don’t always capture. We’ve come up with a really rad theme for our Pride package this year that harnesses some of that complexity, and I can’t wait for it to be revealed to you.

But first, a little drama, a little tease. For the first time ever here at Autostraddle, we’re COUNTING DOWN to Pride! Because let’s be real, June may be Pride month, but it’s not like we only exist as out, proud, loud gay people from June 1 to June 30! Pride events — small and large — have been in the planning stages for a while now. Hell, I started planning Pride content back in early April. (Also, for me, my local Pride doesn’t happen until October!) We’re counting down to Pride this year so we can get ready, get messy, and get cute as fuck for Pride before June even hits. This little Countdown to Pride series is meant to be easy, breezy fun — a lot of it will be geared toward stuff to buy before June and just overall Pride prep that isn’t overly serious. I just want to cultivate some good energy together. Once the official Pride package starts on June 1, you’ll see a shift toward more layered, expansive content that straddles many scopes, tones, and energies. Again, I can’t wait to reveal the theme!

But first, let’s have a little fashion fun. It’s ten days until Pride 2023, and I have a very important question: What flannel are we wearing? Sure, June may be a “hot” time of year in a lot of places, but is that really stopping my community from effortlessly tying a flannel around our waists? Lesbian Flannel is a stereotype, sure, but within the gooey center of many stereotypes, there’s sometimes a kernel of truth, but if you’re straight, you’re not allowed to make a stupid flannel joke! (Also, in my personal experience, I find flannel to be most prominent among bisexuals of all genders, an anthropological nuance I couldn’t possibly expect straight people to understand.) I also see flannel as a great fashion equalizer in that it is worn expertly by butches and femmes alike. So let’s round up some hot flannel, shall we? I tried to include a range of price points as well as options that come in a decent range of sizes!

Pride Flannel: Neutral Edition

a black and white flannel, a black and orange flannel, a boxy fit mixed flannel in black and white, a cream flannel with blue stripes, and a windowpane blue and white cropped flannel

1. Old Navy Black & White Flannel (on sale for $15)
2. ASOS Tan & Black Large Check Flannel ($36)
3. Forever 21 Plus Size Boxy Reworked Flannel ($17)
4. LL Bean Cream & Blue Striped Flannel (on sale for $65)
5. Madewell Cropped Flannel ($35)

These are the flannels that are accessories — not the main attraction. These are best worn over a crop top or bikini top or something otherwise flashy. They make great waist flannels, because they aren’t going to detract from the overall look and basically can function like a gay belt (belts are also gay, but you know what I mean). Perfect for when you need to transition between spaces! You can wear this around your waist for the outdoor, sweaty function, and then throw it on as the night cools — or offer it to a cute cold femme, a position I’ve been in many a time due to outfit choices that prioritize style over temperature. You can be the butch hero in this situation! If the linked products aren’t exactly to your liking or they don’t have your size, click around a bit, because all of those brands have a TON of flannel options!

Pride Flannel: Drama Edition

a pink, green, and white flannel, a blue and white flannel, a flannel with a Nirvana patch on it, a rainbow tie-dye flannel, and a blue and white bleached flannel

1. BoohooMan Pink & Green Flannel ($17)
2. Urban Outfitters Vintage Blue Flannel (on sale for $15)
3. Etsy Custom Band Flannel ($59)
4. Rainbow Tie-Dye Flannel ($65+)
5. Bleached Flannel ($29)

These are the flannels that are doing a little more, taking up a little more space, providing a little more spice. They’re bright or otherwise flashy in some way. They’re the centerpiece of your outfit, not a mere accessory! The custom band flannels do seem like something one could DIY, so perhaps you can just look to them for inspo! But if you don’t want to go through that hassle, the person who makes them on Etsy apparently takes requests, and I even saw a Taylor Swift one if that’s your thing! You can tbh use all of these as a jumping off point for potentially getting crafty with flannels you already own, like tie-dyeing or using bleach to transform it into something fun and new for Pride.

Countdown to Pride is an Autostraddle miniseries leading up to Pride 2023. There are 10 days until Pride month — are you ready?

Sou Sou Things: My Queer Caribbean Community Saves Money & Each Other

As I get older, one of my main preoccupations of surviving in a capitalist, colonialist world has been the need for community. Relationships are messy, and many of us didn’t learn conflict resolution skills in our childhoods, so navigating community building has been rocky — especially for an autistic person like me who already has a tendency to miss social cues and can find communication a complex labyrinth. But the more I read of the writers and activists of the previous generations, particularly those from the Caribbean like Kwame Ture, Walter Rodney, and Maurice Bishop; the more I felt that the only chance to withstand the onslaught of capitalism, was through learning how to foster strong community bonds, and to rediscover different ways of living than what had been presented to us as the model for success.

My little group of friends — most of us queer, Neurodivergent activists — began making a concerted effort to become more present in each other’s lives. The stress of being broke was doing a number on all of us, and sometimes all we could do was share some of the little money we had to make sure someone was able to pay a bill and avoid their electricity being cut off, or get cat food for their furbabies. The hardest part was accepting help, especially in the form of money, and not letting pride get in the way of our survival. I remember sitting with a friend in distress and assuring them that, “As long as one of us has, all of us will have.” We had to find ways to regain the communal intimacy that had been stripped away from us by the individualistic nature of our society.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing. We were all nursing our own wounds, and many of us had learned that self-isolation was the safest way to cope with times of distress. But we tried to show up for each other however we could. There wasn’t much money between us either, many working in creative fields, freelancing, running small businesses, and otherwise trying to avoid the soul-sucking 9-5. As the pandemic hit, and opportunities shrunk, medical issues began to arise and then the sudden loss of a dear friend had us all gasping for air.

As we processed overwhelming grief and tried to continue forward, we had to find a system to keep us together. Not everyone had the support of family, an unfortunately common experience in the queer community, but we had each other. We ran a Discord, where we would save little notes on our ideas for communal living and garden planting, food, art, and music. Organising events where we would come together and meal prep for the month or just spend time together. There were also pictures of our pets and a space to drop the heavy stuff when we needed to. A few months ago, a friend added a new thread to the Discord — “Sou-Sou Things”.

Sou Sou comes from the Yoruba word Esusu, and has its origins in West Africa, with similar savings systems in Igbo, Hausa and Yoruba culture, then making its way to the Caribbean during the period of African enslavement. Later, in Indentured Indian communities, a similar system known as Chaiteyi was also practiced. It was a way to circumvent the limitations of colonialist economics — those who were excluded from the flow of money found their own way to connect and make ends meet.

I myself had no personal experience with being part of a Sou Sou, but my family has had a long history with it. I sat down with my mother and grandmother one evening, both of whom had used Sou Sou as a means to survive when times were hard. My grandmother shared that her mother had put TT$2 a week into a Sou Sou when they were children (in the 1950s), at a time when women were not able to work and their access to money was limited by whatever their husband saw fit to give them for running the house. At the time, many of them would, without their husband’s knowledge, take a portion of that money and “throw a hand” in a Sou Sou made up of family members and friends in order to make purchases like new curtains. At the time, these networks were primarily, if not all, working-class women.

How it works is on a rotational savings basis. Each person contributes an agreed-upon amount of money weekly, fortnightly, or monthly, and then the full amount would be paid to one member each payout on a rotating basis until everyone had received a lump sum. Often, the person organizing the Sou Sou would receive a small amount per payout for handling logistics. For my grandmother, it was a savings method she turned to at many junctures in her life. She bought bricks to build her family home, and paid off her father’s debt in a timely fashion. When my mother was a teenager, in between jobs and writing exams on her own after dropping out of school, my grandmother encouraged her to start running a Sou Sou as a way to make a little extra money. With a collection of cousins around the same age, she organised a group and ran the Sou Sou herself, being paid one portion or “hand” for each payout as the person who functioned essentially as the treasurer.

Years later, as my friends decided on how we wanted to try out this system, I ended up volunteering to run the cycle. We decided that the treasurer, or as we called it “The Sou Sou Master” (because we all play way too much Dungeons and Dragons) would run one cycle and then the responsibility would move to someone else. That way, even the payment for the administrative aspects would work on a rotational basis.

Of course, trying to get my group of friends to collectively agree on logistics is like trying not to spook a herd of wild horses. Some in the group have an ease with the gentleness and patience needed to ensure everyone feels heard and can work within the limitations of their mental health and energy. I’m not necessarily an expert at that. I’m the one who sends walls of text in the group chat when trying to get something done, which admittedly can be a bit intimidating. But finally, we were able to come together and make a plan, with the help of a handy Google Spreadsheet that I am mercifully not in charge of populating.

Interestingly, there are a number of apps available now to help with the technical side of running a Sou Sou, making notes of how much money is collected and distributed, who gets what and when, etc. Many of them run through some sort of banking institution though, so we decided for our test cycle we would stick to good ol’ cash under the mattress to keep things simple and avoid any extra bank fees creeping up on us.

So far, our little experiment is still on its first legs and it remains to be seen if it will become a mainstay of our group — but it’s worthwhile to have another tool in our arsenal as we continue on our journey of divesting away from capitalistic ideas of how to make it in this strange world, and learn how to trust that there are people out there that we can depend on.

Solve Crossword Puzzles, Fund Abortions Across the Country

If you’ve been solving along with the Autostraddle mini and midi crossword puzzles over the last six months, you may have become familiar with the experience of seeing yourself and the things you care about represented in a puzzle. We (Rachel Fabi and Brooke Husic) are two of the crossword constructors for Autostraddle, and we have made it our mission to create puzzles that reflect queer joy and highlight some of the things we care about, and that we believe the solvers on Autostraddle also care about. To that end, we thought you might also be interested to know about a different passion project we’ve been working on for the past two years: a crossword puzzle fundraiser called These Puzzles Fund Abortion.

As anti-abortion laws spread around the country, we, along with our friend Claire, found ourselves grasping for a way to help people in need of abortion care. We brought together some of the best crossword constructors out there to create a pack of puzzles all themed around reproductive justice in order to raise money for abortion funds as part of an annual fundraiser hosted by the National Network of Abortion Funds (NNAF).

In exchange for donations that support five abortion funds around the country (the Baltimore Abortion Fund, Chicago Abortion Fund, Indigenous Women Rising, Tampa Bay Abortion Fund, and Wild West Access Fund of Nevada), you can receive a pack of 16 crossword puzzles that are all around the same level of difficulty as the A+ midi puzzles, or a New York Times Tuesday. Every dollar we raise goes straight to the funds we’re supporting, who in turn help people afford abortions, including support for their travel. We poured our hearts into this project, and we hope Autostraddle crossword lovers will join us in supporting abortion access through puzzles.

You can donate to receive the puzzles through our Fund-a-Thon page until May 31, 2023, after which the puzzles will be available through the These Puzzles Fund Abortion website. We are also selling TPFA merch through Bonfire until May 24.

Here’s a puzzle from the pack that you can solve today!

The Comment Awards Are Waving to Alison Bechdel

A small, brown and white dog peeking over their laptop screen, with a caption that says "Hey did you see that comment?!"

Hi there, merpeople! Just a week ago I was bobbing like a cork in Lake Michigan, yesterday I swam laps at the gym, and today I jumped in the creek! Summer SAD (or, as I like to call it, my Summertime Sadness) can’t possibly get me if I’m always in the water! Because, true fact, Summer SAD can’t swim. That’s my theory and I’m stickin’ to it.

A tiny speck of a person in a huge blue lake, with blue water above them

Me with my summer fling: Lake Michigan

This week brought the triumphant return of TIRTIL!

Stef, or as I like to call them, Coach Stef, set out in search of the perfect energy drink.

This was very good: I Still Pray After I Masturbate.

Ro spoke to the proud pervs filling a hole (so to speak) in the sex toy market with new gender-inclusive company Bedroom Besties.

KKU helped out a reader who isn’t sure how many plus ones (and plus-twos and plus-threes) to include with their wedding invites!

Drew knows: you’re gonna want to watch Jinkx Monsoon’s new comedy special.

Dani Janae doesn’t drink any more. Here are ten better (and different) ways she spends her money.

Lizzo! On! The Simpsons!

And for Uncommon Pairings, Ashni broke down the deal with labels — wine labels, to be exact.

And then there were your comments!

On Things I Read That I Love #329: Goop Cruising, YouTube Tween Cults, Amy’s Kitchen, Botched Plastic Surgery, Et Al:

The Column of our Dreams Award to Riese:

I literally had a dream last night that I published this post with five incomplete sentences in it and when I saw I had 10 comments on the post already I thought oh fuck did it happen in real life?!???!??! But no it was just you all happy to see the column back which MAKES ME SO HAPPY

On “Dykette” Has Plenty of High Femme Camp Antics:

The Hi, Butch, I’m Dad Award to Butch:

I’m butch!

On Roxane Gay, Carrie Brownstein, Roberta Colindrez, Jane Lynch To Star in Audible Adaptation of Dykes To Watch Out For:

The Commenters to Watch Out For Award to…Alison Bechdel(?!), Tt, and Nova Duarte Martinez:

Hey everyone! Thanks for these encouraging comments. This adaptation is REALLY GOOD and I’m so excited about it! I know, how is it possible to turn a comic strip into a sound-only format? Well, with a brilliant writer and world class actors and a Broadway director, it apparently is! This is such a cool project….adaptation…they’re calling it a “podcast,

On 10 Things I Spend My Money on Now That Isn’t Drugs or Alcohol:

The Mixed Nuts Award to Maart:

Just came here to say MY DOG IS ALSO NAMED CASHEW 🥺 and I also spend more of my money on her than I like to think about. It’s a very cute dog name imho, would love to read more about your experience as a new dog parent!

On FYP: If You’re Queer You’ll Never Make It To The Function On Time:

The Early Bird Gets the Girl Award to :):

I try to remember to keep a book on my phone so I can be productive while she’s sleeping on my arm in the mornings

On Pop Culture Fix: Watch Lizzo and Sasha Flute Bring the Whole Damn Deal to The Simpsons:

The Flung Out of…The Garden Award to PJLorens:

Patricia Highsmith carried around loads of pet snails in her handbag and they even travelled with her across borders, curious to see how they’ll manage to work that into the script!

And on Dykes on Dates: A Chill, Food-Filled Day on the Upper West Side

The My Wife, the Titanosaur Award to KatieRainyDay:

Love this, love a musuem date! Can’t believe you neglected to mention the Titanosaur though! She’s got equal billing with the blue whale in my heart

See a comment that needs to be here? Let me know! Tag me [at] queergirl.

Countdown to Pride: New Autostraddle Merch and 20% Off Everything!

I know you’ve been planning for Pride 2023 since Pride 2022 because you are just that gay, but get ready to add a few more things to that shopping list because we’ve got NEW MERCH just in time for your sweaty summer shenanigans, plus 20% off everything in the store using the code AUTOPRIDE! (25% off if you’re an A+ member!! Join today!!)

PREORDER: New Tees — Shipping May 25th

Build Trans Futures Tie-Dye Tee

Design by En Tze for Autostraddle
~~$26~~ $21

PREORDER !

Build Queer Futures Tee

Design by En Tze for Autostraddle
~~$26~~ $21

PREORDER !

PREORDER: Restocked Faves !!! — Shipping May 25th

Gay Chaos Tank

~~$26~~ $21

OMG FINALLY

Lesberado Tee

~~$26~~ $21

ALMOST GAVE UP ON THIS ONE

Pride Essentials

Dykes Hat

~~$22~~ $18

Queer As Fuck Tee

~~$26~~ $21

Gay Chaos Socks

Also comes in a blue socks/pink chaos!
~~$18~~ $15

Fisting 101 Socks

Pair them with the Fisting 101 tee to really make your point 🤌
~~$18~~ $15

Lavender Menace Tee

~~$26~~ $21

Who All’s Gay Here Hat

~~$22~~ $18

Who All’s Gay Here Tie-Dye

Want this shirt in black? What about white?
~~$26~~ $21

Peaches Socks

There’s also a Rockford Peaches tee! You love baseball! And queer television shows!
~~$18~~ $15

Nonbinary Tee

~~$26~~ $21

So Many Stickers

This isn’t even all of them!!
~~$4 – $5~~ $3.50 – $4

Queer Magnetic Words

A great gift! Could also be used as extremely removable graffiti.
~~$18~~ $15