Locks of Love

[via ohcardigan]

How's it hangin', lady-bangers?


So hot yoga isn't going very well.


Not only is it hot as a Spanx'd crotch at closin' time in there, but there's this particular pose, the bow pose, which is supposed to look like this:

and just really doesn't when I try to do it.


I've spent the last few weeks flopping helplessly on my stomach like a gasping trout, reaching behind me for feet that simply are not there. 


Useless!

This morning, in class, as the instructor, Amy, (who wears incredibly distracting pink booty shorts) commanded all of us to get into the bow pose, I sighed inwardly, cursed, and arranged my belly on the mat. 


I thrust out my chest.
I reached behind me.
My feet were there.
And...I grabbed them.

I didn't even think about it.  I just grabbed them.


And then I realized the momentousness of what had just happened.


I had finally grabbed my fucking feet!! I was improving!

"HOLY SHIT!" I shrieked, dropping both feet so hard they smacked behind me like two wet mackerels.  


The class came to a halt.
Everybody stared at me.

[via hungoverowls]

Sluts, I don't know if you know this, but yoga classes tend to value boring things like "serenity" and "silent reflection."


"Leeeeet's just focus on our breathing," said Amy.

Yesterday, I got dizzy in the heat, and instead of promptly sitting down on my mat and drinking water, I elected to not look like a pussy and "push through it." 

I passed out.

Annnnd on Monday, this humongous gay manbear next to me in class was doing a deep bend from the waist, grabbing his ankles, and he farted.

You guys, he farted so loud.
Totally ripped one.

You're supposed to pretend like nothing happened when someone grunts or cuts one in class, but...I burst out laughing.


Loud, immature, inappropriate gales of laughter. 

[via hellogirls]

I could've ignored a little toot, but come. on.


"Eeeeeverybody just focus on their own reflection in the mirror," said Amy.


They're starting to hate me at Bikram.  

[via tornleggings]

But baby steps.


I will never be good at yoga unless I keep it up.


I will never learn to fold myself into interesting positions unless I give myself license to suck at first.

[by terry b.]

We all have to be beginners at some point.


During class, when it seems like every other girl is immaculate, tightly-muscled, and able to do completely fucking obscene bendy things with her legs, I remind myself: once upon a time, they were crap at this, too.

Once upon a time, those girls couldn't reach behind their asses and grab their feet.  
They've just been practicing.  
They've had years of practice!

What's great is: that's also how gaydar works.

You don't wake up one morning and go:  "Hey! You know what? I think I'm gay! Whooooooa! I can see y'allbitches! There's thousands of dykes right here in my city, under my nose! I had no idea!"


It's not like looking at a Magic Eye. 

You can't just learn a trick and have everything be different.


Being gay does not grace you with instant gaydar. 
It takes years of daily immersion.


As if you were a foreign exchange student in a host country with tits for mountains. 

Like excelling at yoga, and baking perfect, light 'n' fluffy gluten-free scones...


We'll never be good at gaydar if we don't work on it daily.
We just need to practice!

Let's get to it.


Now, an astute reader named Ellen (not the one sleeping with Portia) sent me a lovely letter scolding me for not writing about a totally obvious dyke flirting signal:


The Hair Rumple.


Q: But what is the Hair Rumple?


A: I'm so glad you asked! 


The Hair Rumple is deceptively simple, yet extremely specific. 


We're talking "Advanced Homosexual Wimmyn's Gaydar Theory 1400: A Study in Mating Rituals", here.

In brief, the Rumple occurs when a lesbian takes her hands and messes up her hair on purpose. 

[via tomboyfemme]

Easy, right?


Do the Rumple!


1. Have shortish-to-medium length hair with little to no styling product in it.


2. Be standing near Object of Desire.


3. While speaking to her, look down at feet.


4. Casually run whole hand backwards through hair, making sure there is palm contact on the head.


5. Look up at Object of Desire sheepishly.  Sheepish is key.


6. Run hand forward through hair, making sure to completely mess up everything.


7. Choose between these face settings: 
a) bashful; b) sleepy; c) high/I-just-got-fucked.

[via kathleenm]

The Rumple!


Most often seen on boi-dykes and butches, the Rumple can actually be performed with ease across all lesbian labels, with excellent results.


As astute reader Ellen says, "It's like a puppy doing something cute that it knows is cute but pretends it doesn't."

[via cuteoverload]

Now, hold back your snorts of derision, faggettes.
I already know.

Women play with their hair all the fucking time, it doesn't mean they're lesbians.

OR DOES IT????

Let's think about all the straight girls you know. 
Millions of 'em.
Riding the bus, talking in class, waiting in the checkout line, futzing with their lip gloss in the bathroom mirror at work.

Straight women definitely touch their hair all the damn time. 


Twirling it. 
Running fingers through it. 
Picking at the ends.


Finger-combing, fluffing it up, bending over and tossing up hair to add volume, pulling it into ponytails, tugging on it - you name it.

[via batteredandbruised]

But do most straight women rub their palms all over their heads? 


Their palms?


No. 
Absolutely not. 


If a straight woman was to vigorously rub the palm of her hand back and forth on her head in public, it would cause too much style-wrecking. 


She would fuck up her hair.

(by Emily Tebbetts)

Even if she has "messy" hair, the straight girl's hair is supposed to look messy. 
She's not going to mess it up further with her damn palms - she already styled her hair.  


It's perfectly messy.

[via conorriley]

Now, lesbians just go for it.  
They rub their fingers and palms allllll over their hair.  

[via haylaaadies]

Backwards. Forwards. Backwards again.


Doesn't matter if it fucks things up - the hair looks better rumpled. 

[via cockyshitface]

Dykes can get away with genuinely messy hair. 
It's in the nature of the lesbian haircut. 

[via kizian]

Floppy. 
Shaved. 
Piece-y. 
Nothing in it. Looks its best when it really did just get fucked.

[via lesbianstrike]

And you don't have to be a butch or boi.  
I'm a femme, and I do the Rumple.  
(I actually just did it few seconds ago, trying to impress the barista at Swim.  She ignored me.  I'm ok.)


Even Tawnya does it, and she has a cascading mane of femme-hair. 

[Tawnya. Photo by Emma Freeman]

Tawnya snorted when I told her what this week's blog was about, agreed with the basic idea, and theorized that homogirls running their hands backwards through their hair releases wild pheromones into the air that only those acutely attuned to woman-lovin' can detect.

Mating pheromones. 

Pheromones that fairly shout: "I'm not afraid to stick my whole hand in a bush."

[via maytagmaytag]

Ellen correctly pointed out that: 


Even guys don't really run their hands through their hair that much.  Only after taking off hats, or when wiping manly sweat off their faces.  


Running their hands through their hair for the express purpose of looking sexy would, paradoxically, be too feminine for society to allow. 

Too much like preening.  

Gay girls alone straddle the divide between "I don't give a fuck how my hair looks ," and "Check out my lesbian haircut and how cute it looks when I mess it up." 

[via lea87]

Now: There will always be exceptions, hos.

Straight girls who run their palms through their hair. 

Dykes who never do.

But exceptions are not what we care about here.

[via mondog]

We're focusing on generalities.

The big picture.

Figuring out which girls are broadcasting the gay, quickly and easily, so we can get laid.

Running your hands backwards through your hair tells other gayelles that you're not afraid to get. in. there. and get your hands dirty.

[via wallofbooks]

It's seriously dykey.