Claire Johnson recently wondered aloud: “What’s the deal with all of the fake lesbians in erotic art?” Except in the Bible Belt and Afghanistan, gay has a cache no longer available to the straight, not that it’s easy to tell the two apart. Those addicted to visual cues are frequently wrong.
Molly Norris, Self-Portrait, 1982
A character in Sarah Schulman’s 1988 mystery novel, After Delores, felt confident she had cracked the code.
Where are we going?
Charlotte’s place. I have the key.
How did you know it was okay to come out to me so quickly? I asked.
Easy. Charlotte taught me the trick. She says that if you’re talking to a woman and she looks you in the eye and really sees you and listens to what you have to say, then you know she’s gay.
As a straight woman, I hope it isn’t true, but I fear it’s a more reliable guide than slicked-back short hair and a man’s shirt.
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