I just signed in and what a nice surprise. This is a great threat. Thanks Virago.
I don't know much about the bar scene nowadays since I haven't had a drink since 1990 and pretty much stay out of bars unless I have a good reason to be there, like a wedding or funeral or brunch at the Club Café in Boston or some such. But I pretty much grew up in bars so it was natural for me to gravitate toward lesbian bars when I came out. Mostly I remember them being called women's bars, at least in Boston. I remember Somewhere Else and Saints and a couple of gay bars whose names I can't recall but that had women's nights. As a teenager I lived in Fall River, MA and went to a gay bar there called the Sword & Shield. It was mixed- both men and women. It wasn't a big city so I guess we didn't have enough queers to populate more than one bar so we all drank and danced together. There was the Randolph Country Club (it wasn't really a country club, imagine a lesbian country club, if they actually had one I wouldn't have been able to afford to join it though) that had a pool which was pretty awesome in the day, you could swim, shoot pool and get shitfaced all in the same area not to mention pick up women. I do remember that butch and femme was not an acceptable identity in those days. It's kind of funny when I look back because I always dated femmes although they didn't identify as such and I always looked butch. I just didn't call myself that. I don't think I played it down because, well, because I'm not sure I can, but I certainly managed to deny myself to myself and to anyone listening. I gave lip service to the dogma of the day. Maybe I even believed it. I had issues with men/male/masculinity, stuff I hadn't even begun to look at let alone work through so I definitely agreed that I didn't want to ape men or heterosexual relationships. So I didn't ID as butch, but really if it looks like a duck. And I surely did look like a duck. And I was attracted to women who were femmes, just like the women who were attracted to me were attracted to female masculinity no matter what they called it. It was an interesting time. I really loved the friendships and the camaraderie that comes from a shared experience, especially one that has an element of danger like being out and about in those days did. Although looking back I cringe a bit remembering some of the stuff I said and did, I am grateful I had those spaces and those people. And personally I do love flannel though I don't wear it much anymore unless I'm going for a walk in the woods, which by the way I do an awful lot of. In those days I got to wear flannel as pretty much a uniform. Flannel shirt over a t-shirt, levis, and boots. Happy days.
I also loved hanging at New Words bookstore in Cambridge. Also at the Cambridge Women's Center where I did some volunteering as a young dyke. And at the Trident bookstore and café which wasn't really lesbian space or even gay space, but was always very welcoming space. I did the bars but I also got involved in the women's movement and I remember my first Take Back the Night March, wide eyed baby butch that I was I fell in love with protests. I looked behind me to see hundreds and hundreds of candles glowing in the dark and I might have cried from the sheer awesomeness of it.
I don't know what bars are like now. If there are a lot of lesbian bars or gay bars or not. I think probably not in numbers and certainly not in importance. They just aren't as necessary. They wouldn't matter in the same way. The internet makes finding each other much easier. Online chat rooms also. Buying books online at Amazon and such makes women's bookstores not so important. But I am so grateful they were there when I needed them growing up and coming out. Life may be easier now but it was more exciting then I think. But it's all about perspective I imagine so mileage may vary
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