There should be a special clothing store for lesbians. In this magical shop, there would be no women’s clothes and men’s clothes. There would just be clothes – some for the girly girls, some for butches and some for everyone in between. The clothes would be stylish and there would be lots of friendly queer salespeople on hand to help you put a look together. There would be no straight people gawking at you if you dared to consider a shirt without ruffles. You could simply pick and choose your clothes based on what you like. Crazy, I know. Of course, we would also need a coffee bar and/or microbrewery. Clothes shopping would be fun! It would be relaxing! Every shopping trip would be successful!
The land where lesbian identity goes to die
I can tell you one thing for certain – such a shop does not exist at the Mall of America. I went to the mall by myself to buy a few shirts and, SIX hours later, I left with a cardigan and a white tank top. During that time, I was accosted by men dressed for the Renaissance fair. I saw people dressed as vampires. People pushed me and bumped me and didn’t even seem to notice. I was a tiny lesbian pinball in a giant hetero-mall pinball machine. In true Grace the Spot fashion, I live-tweeted the whole adventure. I was about ready to curl up in a ball in the music section of Barnes & Noble and listen to whale sounds when a friend sent me a message telling me that she would come and help me. At first, I said “no” but when the banjo playing men in kilts started dancing towards me, I said, “OH MY GOD! YES! PLEASE COME SAVE ME!” And she did. She patiently shopped with me for a couple more hours and, if it hadn’t been for her, I would have left completely empty-handed.
So, please – someone make an Andropologie* store. Please. I can’t go back to the Mall of America.
*A tip of the hat to @canihelpyousir for providing this perfect name.