Tangled Up In Lace

Showing posts tagged working class love

grrlyman:

Our queer fake wedding was our excuse to dress up and make everyone we know gather in a room to fawn over us and our love. Our gorgeous friends decorated our porch; my drag mother officiated, and we had a pink zebra print cake with gold fondant bands. We saved up for two years to throw this sparkly party, and it went perfectly. We even had a costume change so we could dance the night away!

Our statements to/for each other are included below.

Maura: 

When we were first dating, when it got cold that first year, you got out of the car and gave your favorite hoodie to a stranger who was cold. I love you for that. I love you because you keep dollar store umbrellas in your car to give to strangers caught in the rain. People often see your rough exterior before things like these - I love you for these unseen things & for your rough exterior.

I love you because you push the limits of decency & style every time you walk out the door. I love you because you challenge me to be more outrageous.

I love you because we’re femmes and I love you because you know how special that is.

I love you because you turn everything - from holidays to impromptu trips to New Orleans to random Tuesdays - into a celebration. 

I love you because you’re adventurous.

I love you because you think, dream and love bigger than anyone else.

I love you because you’re brave & because you can be vulnerable with me.

I love you because you’re tough as shit & because you have an incredibly kind heart.

I love you because you make me think more & laugh harder & love more intensely than I thought possible.

I promise to consider you, your feelings & your happiness.

I promise not to take you for granted, to always remember what a wonder you are.

I promise that when we hear a loud noise in the middle of the night and you inevitably think it is most definitely the Zombie apocalypse I will try my best to not dismiss you immediately. Related, I promise that in the event of a zombie apocalypse I will follow whatever plan you have for our survival.

I promise to sing Hall & Oates with you, I promise to never throw away your glue guns and to try my best to always have glitter in the house.

I promise to be on your side.

I promise to play dress up with you, I promise to taste the cocktails you make up, I promise to cook epic meals with you, I promise to do photoshoots with you, I promise to have dance parties in our kitchen with you,

I promise to love you.

Enakai: 

You taught me that I never have to settle, that I deserve everything sparkly and beautiful.

You’re the only person whose opinion of me matters, and you make me more compassionate, creative, and pretty in my never ending mission to impress you.

You’re the loud, trashy, gorgeous, smart and smartass girl of my dreams.

You’re my femme in shining nail polish.

You make me feel strong when I feel like I’m crumbling and I always feel safe and seen when I’m soft with you.

You fight, and your fight will always be my fight.

I will spend the rest of my life learning your mmms, your cupcake mmm, your complimentary bread basket mmm, and your hot mmm.

I promise to always keep a steady supply of bactine around, and when you fall I’ll clean the blood from your knees and palms gently and without laughing.

I will protect you from most bugs, and I’ll always be grateful when you kill spiders for me.

I look forward to being immature and old with you, making fun of young people and drinking when our doctors tell us not to.

I will fry anything for you on demand and without apology.

I will always go for you, and no matter how frightened the straight people who didn’t know who they were queer baiting are, I’ll back you up.

I will always be too much with you.

Then we held hands and promised to never wear anything our size or age appropriate, and were pronounced pervert and pervert before our family and friends.

Bonus picture:

Cake and pie for dayssss

Well I cried and called Fleetwood on their way to work so they could look at this and cry too.

There are so many parallels in our weddings and vows that it breaks my heart we both couldn’t be at each other’s slutty parties. 

Thank the Goddess for FEMMES

Thank the Goddess for that Femme on Femme True Love 

Thank the Goddess for those who are brave enough to live and love out loud

Thank the Goddess every time you see something that lights you up like this

(Photoset reblogged from grrlyman)

365 days since I put our son in his carrier and hopped on a plane going north, making the best decision of my entire life. 

Fleetwood Luxery-Legay, your love has softened, healed and changed me to my very core and while I knew you were extraordinary from the second I laid eyes on you, I really didn’t even have a clue on how you would turn my life upside down. 

How silly and naive of us to think that a love like this would be slow to grow and easy to handle and hide from. We didn’t stand a chance at casual Honey :)

I could go on and on about the strength of our bond, but I think it says a whole helluva lot more that two poor kids with so much stacked against them, struggling to breathe amongst all these years of baggage and bruises we’ve accumulated, have made this beautiful home vibrate so loudly with the sounds of our laughter, our fucking and our healing tears. 

To think this is only what our love can do in a year <3

Fleetwood Mac - Songbird

this one goes out to the young filly on the couch

And the songbirds are singing,
Like they know the score,
And I love you, I love you, I love you,
Like never before.

6 months ago I woke up a married woman. Can you believe that?? Thoughts on marriage aside, I’m the luckiest gal in the world that I get to continue waking up to someone so fiercely beautiful, strong and tender. You make me feel like I’m on fire and I don’t ever want it to stop 

From No Work to Working Class

Last night Majestic got a job. They’ll be supporting us both on a barista’s income but we still ate like the new money queens we are in celebration. We walked cautiously through the fancy independent market in town like we knew we were intruders in this oasis for comfortable living, stealthily glancing around for sales and then pretending we wanted that instead of the full priced treat next to it.  We dodged another bullet this month and our class backgrounds stains us like crushed blackberries. 

The thing about moms like mine is that she’ll always haunt me closer than my own shadow. Maybe that’s just what its like to be a daughter of a single mother growing older and making your own family.  Maybe it’s just because Sybil’s always meant to cling this way. Every couple of months I’ll feel her stronger than usual and think to myself, “she’s finally died and she’s here to tell me.” But she’s not dead, she’s just reminding me that it’ll never really matter after all she’s done to me. 

I feel her in the way my body aches as I stood over the sink in my cotton leggings and ripped up Garfield shirt the same way I’d seen her do. My sight failed me as I watched our dry hands pulling the sponge across my thrifted measuring cups last night.  Don’t waste the water, don’t waste the soap, don’t get too confident that next paycheck will show up. 

The smell of cinnamon rolls puffing up in the oven carries me back to me and mine. Majestic and I had been curled up together when they made a passing comment about cinnamon rolls. I looked over and with the laptop light glowing on their face, I could see the joy wash over them when I said, “You want cinnamon rolls? I’ll make you cinnamon rolls.”  We took our love and warmth from the room to the kitchen and I couldn’t feel my tired body as I cut real full fat butter into the flour and played a fan made Phil Collins video.  This isn’t my mother’s working class love, this was mine. 

She did this in her own way and I watched the resent and bitterness drip off her like tar and the sick smell of it still lingered around me as a reminder. I always hated her for staring across all our apartments and seeing stains where I saw life and another opportunity to make her happy with what we had. 

You’ve made me a palace in this mismatched, thrifted, gifted and worn through apartment Majestic. May I never know a night where I’m not nestled against your warm fat body under our mountain of previously used comforters kissing sugar frosting off your lips

where boners go to die

delicatetbone:

trashysnacks:

“i have a groupon”

seriously y’all…this is not a pickup line.  just leave the groupons for after you’re like dating for a minute.  

i don’t know about this. being a working class turned struggling to be working class femme has made me always appreciate a babe who can get frugal and isn’t afraid to be like, “damn, i want to treat you like a queen but the only way i can do that is if we hustle and pay half price” i think this mentality of living beyond our means or feeling bad if we can’t is what keeps a lot of us in that struggling place.

shit costs too much and we struggle to afford it and lose focus of what we’re actually supposed to be doing which is loving in radical ways and sticking it to capitalism

(Post reblogged from oldbonesanddust)

Grandpa Legay Vs the Webcam

Grandpa Legay: oh my god horrifying

Bubbe Luxery: it’s playing again honey

Grandpa Legay: oh…did i not record it?

Bubbe Luxery: just turn it off

and then we put up our pagan Charlie Brown douglas fir using the piece of shit tree stand from hell we bought from the thrift store for $2 and talked about being poor and castrating rape apologists and i knew i was so in love and had made the best choice