“Flamboyance and fortitude, femme and butch – not poses, not stereotypes, but a dance between two different kinds of women, one beckoning the other into a full blaze of color, the other strengthening the fragility behind the exuberance.”
– Joan Nestle, The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (1992).
Introduction
“My own femme self-hatred made me a careless listener,” Joan Nestle wrote in the introduction to The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (1992). Joan Nestle, Queen of the Femmes, described endlessly listening to Butch lesbians tell their stories while ignoring a “femme from the fifties,” Jeanie Meurer, who died before they made an oral history tape.
My Femme self-hatred came from hating the unfair “feminine” beauty expectations dictated to females. Growing up, I copped demands to lose weight, compliments only while wearing makeup – a mother wanting a straight ballerina despite not being all that dainty herself. I rebelled by eating whatever I wanted and acting more “masc” than what’s organic for me.
The sexist expectations for women to restrict ourselves and our movement, to hide our natural appearance and talents, are no less misogynistic when a Femme lesbian does them. But claiming that “femininity” itself is categorically sexist, when many things culturally associated with women are neutral or good, would be too theoretical for the practical world.
I still don’t love the terms “feminine” and “masculine.” In 1971, Rita Laporte wrote for The Ladder – the first nationally distributed lesbian publication in the United States, publishing from 1956-1972 – “We have all been thoroughly conditioned to think the adjectives male and masculine are interchangeable, as are female and feminine. This is a mental straightjacket under which not only lesbians but all of society suffers.”
While “masculinity” and “femininity” are only what’s associated with male and female–as opposed to being male or female–we can’t use them without society perceiving one as “closer to woman” and the other as “closer to man.” Essentially all critique of Butch-Femme seems to be built on such gender stereotyping. The English language hasn’t evolved to describe the diversity of women, lesbians, Butches, Femmes, and Butch-Femme, without alluding to things we don’t mean.
What is Butch?
“Being a butch has been the most troublesome and delicious experience of my life. Being butch—like being a woman, a lesbian, having a soul—is not something I can dismiss. I believe butches are born, not made. Since this is my birthright, I choose to glory in it. When I comb my hair back and strut out my front door, being butch is my hallelujah.”
– Jeanne Cordova in Joan Nestle’s The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (1992), p. 272.
Butch and Femme have been commonly used among working-class lesbians to describe their role in Butch-Femme relationships, at least since the 1940s. Previously, “female invert” was a term sexologists used to pathologise Butch lesbians. Some lesbians, such as Radclyffe Hall, identified themselves or their fictional characters as female inverts before Butch was available. However, considering “Butch” is said to have originated in gritty working-class gay bar culture, it’s possible that well-to-do lesbians like Hall would have rejected the term for lacking refinement.
While Butch was used among working-class lesbians, there was treatment of all “masculine,” non-conforming lesbians that transcended class. In the 1920s, Radclyffe Hall wrote about being perceived as a man-lite predator of male-owned, “normal” women, like a fox preying on livestock. Butches are still seen as internally-male for being attracted to “feminine” lesbians, and Femmes are still seen as desireless, man-hating heterosexuals who use Butches to substitute the supposedly necessary role of males in female lives.
Perhaps every generation finds ways to interpret Butch lesbians as men. Heteropatriarchal society couldn’t comprehend lesbians defying its narrow, misogynistic view of women, so they claimed “female inverts” had a “male soul.” In 1900, sexologist Havelock Ellis described “female inverts” as having “brusque, energetic movements, the attitude of the arms, the direct speech, the inflexions of the voice, the masculine straightforwardness,” as well as their “capacity for athletics,” and “sometimes incapacity for needlework and other domestic occupations.”
Classy, educated “masculine” lesbians might have rejected “Butch” to fit in with high-flying bohemians, but sexologists weren’t necessarily preferential in calling all gender non-conforming lesbians female inverts. The “female invert” was feared and hated in ways “feminine” lesbians attracted to each other were not. It wasn’t just her homosexuality that made society’s hair stand on end – it was the fact she subverted misogynistic expectations by displaying “aggressive ‘masculine’ sexual and social behaviours”: she dressed in ways men were expected to, she romanced the women men assumed were for them, and she enjoyed having penetrative sex in ways men felt they owned, too.
Academia’s tendency to analyse working class lives like they’re lab rats, only to theorise and promote the more “enlightened” way of life, is an act of gentrification. Like affluent lesbians of the past who rejected blue-collar dykes and their culture–including Butch-Femme–educated lesbians of today are diluting homosexuality by using “queer” to appeal to 2024’s wealthy bohemians. Feminist academics have theorised Butches as the default feminist woman–but only when attracted to other “masculine” lesbians–or else anti-feminist if into Femmes. Queer theorists often argue that Butch is some form of transgender, which feels like a contemporary form of sexual inversion theory. While feminist theorists consider Butch-Femme to be replicating misogynistic power dynamics among heterosexuals, queer theorists consider Butch-Femme couples to be heterosexual.
Butch cannot be accurately captured by academia because it’s fundamentally working class. In 1998, when the word “lesbian” was getting phased out of universities and replaced with the more enlightened and less-specific “queer,” scholar Barbara Ponse unpleasantly described Butch4Femme lesbians as “rural women, farm women, country women who had no contact with any kind of gay community [and] really thought they must be like men.” Ponse denied Butch’s historical and cultural significance to the real, underground lesbian community, sketching them as uneducated–even on the matters of their own community–and essentially living heterosexual lives because they didn’t know any better.
Being Butch, to the average Butch4Femme lesbian today, is more than being a “masculine” lesbian. Responders communicated that Butch is a badge of honour, a code of conduct passed down through working-class lesbian history. While some believe that being Butch is born, others believe that being a “masculine” lesbian is born and being Butch is not only harnessed (hehe) into a particular way of life but also earned.
While lesbianism isn’t a political identity–it just means female homosexual–Butch is viewed as a specific, productive, necessary, chivalrous role in the lesbian community for “masculine” lesbians to potentially achieve. How? Some suggest that Butch requires having knowledge of and respect for lesbian history and culture; others believe Butches must be concerned with rejecting or unlearning toxic forms of masculinity, exhibiting feminist principles in their gender non-conformity instead. Others spoke less about how Butches should think or behave and more about working-class Butches in the trades.
The way Butches tend to be more concerned with being their gender non-conforming selves, rather than pretending to be someone they’re not for social reward, was heavily reported to increase feelings of trust and ease around them. Despite Femmes and fellow Butches mentioning feeling safe around Butch authenticity, Butches reported feeling pressured to identify as men (“female invert” throwback!) for not being what’s expected of women.
“As a woman who dresses masculine, it is important that people understand that clothes and style really have no place in the discussion of gender identity and it is a lot more about personal expression.”
– Molly, Butch, 24, London, England.
“Butch is how I was born. With a natural masculinity that only boys had permission to inhabit. Finding there was nothing I could do about it, attempts to suppress it were futile. Internalising all the positive messages about masculinity – protectiveness, providing, chivalry. Never rewarded or admired for being masculine, I never got the free pass to be cruel, entitled, to ignore consent, in the same way as boys. Not that I ever wanted to. The way I love and relate to women is what makes me butch – with kindness and understanding.”
– R, Butch, late 20s, London, UK.
“Butch is more than how I present with clothes. Being butch, to me, is not a fluid phase that someone experiences a couple of days a week and then they’re masc or femme the other days. Being butch is literally a lifestyle. Of course, I do love to wear my boxers and my men’s clothing… but being butch is the ultimate resistance in every area of life. I am a jack of all trades, the protector of my lady, the face of lesbians. I am visibly lesbian. I make others uncomfortable in my presence. But I also am the safe space for young butches to be.”
– Aryza, Butch, 25, USA.
“Butch is beautifully expansive. The way I’m a butch can be completely different from the way my best friend is. But to me, it means making femmes feel loved. Photos when they’re not looking and have no clue how beautiful they are. Sharing music I love. Teaching my favorite dances. Learning lesbian history together. Being read lesbian poems by a femme…”
– Maria, Butch, 19, USA.
“Butch is a lesbian identity and a way of living. It’s characterized by how we butches present ourselves to the world.”
-Juli V, Butch, 33, Argentina.
“Expressing and utilizing masculinity in a way that’s in respect for and in protection of women.”
– A, Butch, 27, USA.
“A version of female masculinity which exists in opposition to Femme, which I have cultivated in order to love my Femme partners in a way that is most true to me.”
– Mill, Butch, 38, England.
“I think that the people who I’ve [seen identify] as butch, or who have called themselves butch, have other shared characteristics that “andro” and “masc” lesbians don’t. There’s the masculine energy, yes. But it tends to be more quiet, almost stoic. Always courteous and chivalrous. They tend to pursue women in old-school ways. They’ll ask you on a real date. They’ll wine and dine you, court you properly. Offer you their jacket. I find that people who identify with the label “butch” tend to have more knowledge of and connection to lesbian history. I feel like they take their role within our community a bit more seriously than “andro” and “masc” lesbians.”
– TB, Femme, 30, USA.
“I usually feel more comfortable [around Butches] than with others and I am more comfortable with myself as well…[Butches] not conforming to the patriarchal imposed standards much like the female relatives I grew up with makes me feel more at peace in a way because I don’t usually partake in the upholding of those standards either. I find the genuinity they have inviting and that’s why I feel I’m more inclined to like them rather than the average woman. To me, butch means understanding, rejoice, and relief, but I can’t find adjectives that can fully portray what I mean.”
– Jessi, Femme, early 20s, South Italy.
“Appearance is only part of butchness, there is culture and custom behind the label.”
– Mar, Femme, early 20s, Canada.
“[Butch is] masc, but not just by wardrobe. Somebody who also embodies traditionally masculine traits, behaviours and has masculine hobbies.”
– Soup, Femme, 27, India.
“[A Butch is] a lesbian woman adopting a certain type of style that is originally masculine coded and tries to establish a culture that’s out of the traditional feminine codes.”
– Jessica, Femme, 25, Paris.
“[A Butch] embodies all the positive attributes of masculinity and transcends them,”
– Jeannie, Femme, 24, USA.
“[A Butch] is a strong woman that moves to the beat of her own drum. She shoulders a lot because she’s so visible. She’s the front line whether she’s made for that or not. She’s often tough on the exterior and sensitive on the inside. She contains multitudes and is so much more than she appears to be. She refuses to abide by a society’s set limitations for what women “should” be. She expands definitions for all of us.”
– Arianne, Femme, 41, USA.
“[A Butch is a] working class strong masculine woman. A provider. A very gentle lover. Intertwined with femmes.”
– Violette, Femme, 28, France.
What is Femme?
“My life has taught me that touch is never to be taken for granted, that a woman reaching for my breasts or parting my legs is never a common thing, that her fingers finding me and her tongue taking me are not mysterious acts to be hidden away, but all of it, the embraces, the holdings on, the moans, the words of want, are acts of sunlight.”
– Joan Nestle in The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (1992).
While Butch lesbians were being labelled “inverts,” Femme lesbians confounded sexologists and psychoanalysts differently. Professionals concluded that Butch lesbians had a “male soul” because they dressed and fucked like men were expected to, but what did it mean for a woman who looked like any other woman to be attracted to “female inverts”? Femme lesbians were (and still are) interpreted by heteropatriarchal society as confused, mentally disturbed, victimised and/or traumatised heterosexual women who are turned off men due to male violence.
Naturally, Femmes have a better understanding of themselves. Joan Nestle argues that Femmes make the Butch-Femme couple exceedingly visible and reflect their sexual difference in making the Butch a known subject of desire. While the Butch threatens what men think they own–the “masculine” role in society–Femme4Butch lesbians threaten who men think they own – women attracted to “masculinity.” Femme4Butch lesbians are female homosexuals; they are not attracted to males at all. But they are attracted to “masculine” females.
This is where Femmes and “feminine” lesbians differ. A relationship between two “feminine” women does not threaten men as much; if anything, they think it’s pornographic entertainment for them. If lesbianism is defined by femininity attracted to femininity–grounded in the conservative belief that the sexes are determined by gender stereotypes–rather than female homosexuality, then nothing is necessarily seen to be taken from men. It’s viewed as glorified sisterhood. The pornographic, gals bein’ pals perception of lesbianism is no less homophobic than what Butch-Femme couples experience. But it is different.
While Butch-Femme isn’t the only form of lesbian relationship, the Femme is written into lesbian history as the Butch’s complementary, healing Other. She revolts against heteropatriarchy by loving and fucking the least-conforming–and therefore most hated–woman. Working class Femme Amber Hollibaugh articulates this erotic sanctuary: “You see, I want you as a woman, not as a man; but I want you in the way you need to be, which may not be traditionally female, but which is the area that you express as butch. Here is where in the other world you have suffered the most damage. Part of the reason I love to be with butches is because I feel I repair that damage.”
A Femme is not simply a “feminine” lesbian. According to Femme4Butch respondents in 2024, while a Femme might pass as straight to the unsuspecting eye of heteropatriarchy, her role in working-class lesbian history, lesbian culture, and the Butch-Femme subculture is one of nurturing defence and protection. Angry like a mama bear, not docile like a 50s housewife, the Femme lesbian archetype is described as an intelligent, adaptable, sensual leader.
A lesbian is simply a female homosexual. She doesn’t need to believe or behave in any particular way beyond that to be counted as a lesbian. To be counted as a Femme lesbian is a little more complex. Like opinions on Butch, it’s expected that a Femme lesbian be knowledgeable about lesbian history, culture and today’s lesbian community. It’s not about slapping on some lippy and high heels. Both of which many Femmes don’t wear.
“[Femme is] femininity with full personhood. Some selected trappings of stereotypical womanhood but predominantly defined by the trappings we reject. Femininity not for the consumption of men.”
– Ari, Femme, 31, Texas, USA.
“To me, my femme identity is a celebration of the way that I naturally exist…For years, I felt ashamed of my femininity, especially as a lesbian. I spent years dressing down, even trying to look a bit androgynous…A part of me still felt completely unseen, especially by those I wanted to see me the most. There’s a quote out there that says something like “femmes are dykes to men and women to butches.” And that’s exactly how I feel. I don’t want to be a woman for a man, I want to be a woman for a butch. The first time I walked into a party after dolling myself up and I saw a butch take in my appearance with an appreciative smile, it felt like someone truly saw me for the very first time…It’s difficult to conceive of my femme identity without butches.”
– TB, Femme, 30, USA.
“My disquiet is noticed by others but it’s seen as weird because of my ability to fit into the average woman image that makes me seem as if I’m doing alright in a world where I seem to fit but I don’t because I’m not the status quo.”
– Jessi, Femme, early 20s, South Italy.
“It wasn’t until I dated a butch that I saw the beauty in my femininity. Femmes often have to fight as many battles as butches, our battles just tend to be more internal. As a result, we are strong women who often know what we want – because it’s been a journey to get there. The femme is the silent killer in the back, the one to watch out for. She’s calculated, ready, and always dressed for the occasion.”
– Arianna, Femme, 41, USA.
“Being femme doesn’t have to be hyper-feminine. I am hyper-feminine but I do not shave, I do not associate with men other than work and family, and I am strongly feminist. I am there for my butch and proudly female.”
– Rae, Femme, 24, Canada.
“Femme is beautiful in a way that makes me feel safe. Femme is a lesbian who stands by [and] defends their butch when they face the scrutiny of social norms. Femmes are a reminder of strength and espoused lesbian pride.”
– Maria, Butch, 19, USA.
“[Femme] deliberately subverts and undermines the male gaze, with romantic and erotic interest directed toward Butches.”
– Mill, Butch, 38, England.
“[Femmes] may not always be visibly lesbian, but they use that privilege to care for their Butch, especially in public settings.”
– Aryza, Butch, 25, USA.
“[Femmes are] the yin to my yang. Femmes are everything to me because I can’t be who I am without them. I love them and I need them.”
– Hannah, Butch, 29, Australia.
Butch-Femme
“When a woman says “This is my desire,” feminists rush in to say, “No, no, it is the prick in your head; women should not desire that act.” But we do not yet know enough about what women– any women–desire. The real problem here is that we stopped asking questions too early in the lesbian and feminist movement, and rushed to erect what appeared to be answers into the formidable and rigid edifice that we have now. Our contemporary lack of curiosity also affects our view of the past. We don’t ask butch-femme women who they are; we tell them.”
– Joan Nestle in The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (1992).
I once chatted with a Femme who was around for the second wave. She described agreeing with a lot of ‘70s feminist theory but remembered having to appear more androgynous to fit in. Highly educated feminists argued that Butch-Femme recreated heteropatriarchal dynamics while they encouraged actual male-attracted women to call themselves lesbians. Lesbianism was, and unfortunately sometimes still is, viewed as a feminist tactic.
It is unsurprising that Butch-Femme was problematised despite its long history because it is quintessential lesbian sexuality. It is ultimately defined by the sexual tension created between opposing but complementary lesbian forces. Men and women, feminists and anti-feminists, are just so fucking weird about lesbian sexuality. It’s true that violence and cruelty should not be accepted anywhere, including the bedroom. But lesbian liberation is a form of sexual freedom. It includes learning and developing preferences in our relationships and sex lives. It took me a long time to acknowledge that, unashamed.
The decades-running debate about Butch-Femme is primarily a class issue. Butch and Femme lesbians socialised, danced and dated in 1950s mob-owned gay bars. They weren’t at university; they were highly vulnerable, even getting bashed and raped by cops during and after raids. Some had to turn to sex with men to pay the bills because they were unemployable, if not for being publicly lesbian, or even just women–men were the breadwinners–then for the substance abuse issues resulting from homophobia, misogyny and poverty combined. They didn’t have mummy and daddy’s money to rely on when they refused to marry men. Studying wasn’t even an option.
Many lesbians whose names we know from history came from wealthy families and had an education. If Romaine Brooks hadn’t inherited that sum of money from her grandfather in 1902, she probably would never have been able to afford painting materials, let alone us viewing her artworks a century later. We would not have The Well of Loneliness if Radclyffe Hall had not come from a family of means. While Butches were wearing dresses to the bar and getting changed into their comfortable attire inside, there are photos from the ‘20s of Radclyffe Hall revealing her “masculinity” in public. She didn’t have to worry about work finding out. I wish we knew more about the battling, regular Butch-Femme couples. Still, if it were not for the visibility of Romaine and Radclyffe, then the Butches of today wouldn’t have historical representation.
What counts as a Butch-Femme relationship is not unanimously agreed upon. Many would say that despite their wealth, Radclyffe Hall and Una Troubridge were a Butch-Femme couple. Others would say that Butch and Femme are inherently gritty, rough working-class identities and that it would be revisionist to look at a wealthy “feminine” and “masculine” female couple from the past and label them Butch-Femme. I see the truth in both perspectives.
“[Butch-Femme is] one of the many ways lesbianism exists. It’s a very specific form of love between two lesbians. Its existence itself is a threat to patriarchy and women’s oppression.”
– Juli V, Butch, 33, Argentina.
“Butch and femme are compliments, sometimes they intertwine and form beautiful relationships. I do not imply that butches should not show softness and nurture, roles often associated with femmes, neither do I believe that femmes cannot be protective and stable, roles often associated with butches. Though some butch femme relationships were born out of necessity in a distant past, they are a cultural part of the lesbian community, and in no way can two women in a relationship be heteronormative or regressive.”
– Mar, Femme, early 20s, Canada.
“[Butch-Femme is] the ultimate “fuck you” to the world. I am nothing like the world wants me to be, yet a beautiful woman cares for me and protects me still.”
– Aryza, Butch, 25, USA.
“I get to be myself fully and be loved for it, while loving someone who receives the same.”
– Mill, Butch, 38, England.
“Femmes want to be seen within the community, but often it isn’t until a butch “sees” them, that femmes truly see themselves. In the same regard, butches often are able to relax more within a femme’s embrace and be their full selves. We embrace our true nature, femmes and butches, we just happen to be complimentary to one another. Each one champions and appreciates the other’s truest self. There’s honesty in that type of pairing. They hold each other up in life and community. There is support within this type of relationship that I have never experienced elsewhere. It is categorically and unequivocally lesbian.”
– Arianna, Femme, 41, USA.
“I think that a butch-femme relationship is the partnering of two approaches to the idea of subverting patriarchy and a male-centered society and societal expectations and norms. It is its own category of expression, so don’t mistake that as me saying it “imitates” or focuses on heteronormativity. Rather, it is the union and safety found in loving a like-experienced person unafraid to be themselves.”
– Joji, Femme, 21, USA.
“I believe everyone, regardless of gender, has both masculine and feminine energies inside of them. And we seek people who complement our own energies. From my perspective, butches and femmes seek each other out for that reason. We complement each other. As a high femme, I feel most complemented by a really strong butch. No other type of relationship feels as right to me.”
– TB, Femme, 30, USA.
“It means security through the joyful acknowledgment of our lesbiancestors. It means lesbian invention.”
– Maria, Butch, 19, USA.
“Ultimate duality.”
– Candice, Femme, 39, USA.
The Future…
There are class issues in today’s hypercapitalist dystopia, but the rise of the middle class has fascinatingly complicated Butch-Femme in 2024. Sure, if mining executive chairperson Gina Rinehart were a lesbian, then it would leave a sour taste in my mouth to call her relationship Butch-Femme. But what about a nurse or electrician?
Some would debate whether the middle class has enough power compared to the hyper-rich to be considered its own category. In saying that, their power over factory, retail and hospitality workers shouldn’t be ignored. Academics and their authorial power are a perfect example of complicated class dynamics in the Butch-Femme conversation. Who’s lived the life, and who’s writing on it? Not always the same person.
What is the future of Butch-Femme, a dynamic viewed by many as old school? While it won’t go away completely, we need to be careful of gentrification in the face of today’s wealthy bohemians wanting a stake in the marketable “queer” community. As for the debate between lesbians about Butch-Femme, the most contentious is whether the terms Butch and/or Femme apply outside of the Butch-Femme dynamic, where they originated. There is no objectively correct answer.
Some lesbians think masc (masculine) and fem (feminine) are appropriate terms for lesbians who relate to Butch or Femme but not Butch-Femme, out of respect for its origins and specificity. Some think Butch makes sense as a gender non-conforming lesbian identity outside of Butch-Femme, but that Femme is only relevant when in a relationship with a Butch or seeking one. Some lesbians think Butch and Femme should be for all lesbians because they prefer the terms over masc or fem, they believe in strict inclusivity over naming difference and/or they don’t think the origin matters to the definition today.
“Many of today’s feminists see us as ahistorical, as if we are stuck in a time and never change, as if we are a bad fifties thing. But I am always learning more about this way of loving. I have changed in the last twenty years. Now I want to incorporate into my femmeness my new layers of experience. I want to be the best of our desire without apologizing for it, and I want us to know our own history. Butch and femme can change and grow.”
– Joan Nestle in The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (1992), 265.
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