Editor In Butch

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In The Nouveau Butch, Tools of the Trade on February 27, 2009 at 10:58 pm

Denim has come a long way since Mr Levi Strauss, a 24 year German immigrant arrived in San Francisco to set up his dry goods company where many of the California gold rush miners lived out of wagons. Strauss and a Nevada tailor David Jacobs, co-patented the process of putting copper rivets in denim work pants to add strength. On May 20, 1873, they received U.S Patent No.139,121 and Levi Strauss & Co began manufacturing the famous Levi brand of jeans. This date is now considered the official birthday of “blue jeans.” Here at NB we strongly believe that every butch should have a great pair of jeans to show off her best ass-ets — so without further ado..
The ‘Boyfriend.’
This cut is a pure unadulterated example of a past trend coming back into style — Marilyn knew how to work this shape effortlessly! Believe it or not, the good thing is these jeans don’t really need you to have a fella or even a gay husband (phew i hear you cry) furthermore they are great if you need a little extra room in the leg area for your athletic thighs…. The rule is that they are over sized and ripped up, or just plain big and baggy. Turn them up at the ankles to emphasis the ‘oversized’ shape.


Victoria Beckham aka Posh Spice–wife of ‘Golden balls’ David Beckham, has got the modern-day ‘boyfriend’ down to a ‘t’ or should I say ‘NB’ — what with the pixie haircut she looks like she could be moving over to the ‘dark side.’  Remember to look your best in these jeans, pair them with a tight tee, at NB we suggest you not to go too baggy on top, otherwise you risk looking like one of the  miners Mr Levi designed his overalls  for…  b

Be the boyfriend with Levi’s 501.


Rip it up with ‘Siwy.’
Launched Spring 2005 by Michelle Siwy in downtown New York City, Siwy offers the ultimate denim vintage-inspired, sexy, fashion-forward designs with a heavy dose of New York edge. In less than four years, this brand has developed a cult following among denim-heads. Siwy creates four collections per year, each forging ahead with fashion trend and fit and ensures that each pair has a one-of-a-kind hand-crafted vintage Americana label.
If baggy definitely isn’t your thing and you prefer something a bit more, well how should i say, long and lean, these stunning works of art should go straight to the top of your shopping list. Read the rest of this entry »


Don’t Look Back In Anger

In The Nouveau Butch on February 19, 2009 at 3:16 am


We just realized how much these boys look like lesbians...

We just realized how much these boys look like lesbians...



Ah February!  Sorry for the hold-up folks!  The butches have been busy, breaking up, making up, and falling in love–in short, not writing.  But not to worry, we’re back!

In this season of paper hearts, hoping ones, making starts, and broken ones, I’d like to take this moment to reflect on lovers past.

The NB, it should be noted, is a lady of class.  Meaning: she don’t talk shit about her exes.  They say that people come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime; and this is neither good nor bad.  There are no mistakes, merely lessons learned.  And, to this end, we see the value in all relationships, failed, destroyed, lost or otherwise.  We speak fondly of our ex-lovers because they provided us with something.  Perhaps we have not yet learned what that might be, but we should be grateful for the experience no less.  

As an added benefit, one who speaks fondly of an old girlfriend is often appealing to a new one.  In a time where the average person spends about three years at any given job, it seems reasonable to assume that most love affairs will not last forever.  Please don’t mistake this for an anti-romantic sentiment.  The NB is quite romantic.  But the point is, there are likely to be a few false starts before we meet the woman for all time.  And that’s a good thing.  The point is to accept this fact, let go of the expired circumstance, and appreciate it for what gifts it did bring. Did you’re ex open your eyes to the beauty of impressionist paintings?  Show you how to make killer home-fries?  Or was she the best sex ever?  Any way, you hopefully learned something and are better for having been with her.  

Of course there are the unfortunate entanglements that leave us bruised and bewildered, but at the very least, these women taught us what we don’t want, what we wont stand for–and even a negative lesson is a valuable one.

So in this season of cosmic changes, of intense romance and devastating loss, in this winter month of discontent, we challenge you to appreciate even the lost loves.  Keep your chins up and wish them well, trust us, it’s much more attractive.  And with your head held high, you’re much more likely to see what’s next.  So don’t look back in anger.  Don’t look back at all.


B. Cassidy

The Wright Words

In The Nouveau Butch on February 13, 2009 at 11:09 pm


Ah the commercial Valentine.  

While the rest of America crowds the aisles of the greeting card stores this weekend, we would like to pose an alternative approach for the NB. 

First, our suggestion would be to use personalized stationary, a blank card, or even a meaningful image (post-card, photograph, CD-cover,  whathaveyou).  Every decision you make should reflect your emotion/relationship/personal connection with this person–the more specific, the more personal, the better. 

Next, use a nice pen. A felt-tip or an ink-roller will do–just stay away from your gnarly, half-chewed Bic in your kitchen junk-drawer (there’s nothing sexy about that).

And finally, speak from the heart.  If you’re a women of few words, that’s fine; but write them with care.  Infuse the message with all of your emotion. Trust us, it will show. 

And if you’re at a complete loss for words, look to the greats–try Shakespeare Oscar WildeAristotle, or perhaps…your favorite lesbian blog?  The following are just a few we came up with (we tried to offer some guidance in the parenthesis).  Best of luck!

  1. Every moment with you is time well-spent.  (Can be used on a friend, early on in a relationship, or even with someone with whom you have spent years.)
  2. Let’s take over the world. (For the ambitious NB and her well matched counterpart, this can be the sexiest, most romantic combination of words.  Being inspired/inspiring your lover is powerful–and really sweet.)
  3.  I see you.  I hear you.  I get you.  (Validation can be so romantic.  *Note: please ensure you do, in fact, see/hear/get this woman.  Sincerity is key–always.  **Second note: This will resolve almost any lovers’ quarrel.  Empathy and compassion will always short-circuit a fit of rage.)
  4. I can’t wait for tomorrow–because this gets better every, single, day.  (Hopefully, this one does double duty: making this day great and setting up a sweet self-fulfilling prophesy for tomorrow, and the next day, and the next….)
  5. I wish my heart was bigger, so I could feel you more.  (This one is a doozey–use carefully.  She’ll either run screaming from the room, or dissolve in your hands.  This must only be said when it is truly felt, otherwise it seems SUPER creepy/old school intense Lezzie–anti-NB.)

**Avoid self-deprecation at all costs.  Putting oneself down is NEVER sexy and completely insults the person you’re with.  (Think of it this way: If you’re such a turd, then she must be a loser for loving you–this is always the subconscious message that gets sent.)  The NB is confident enough to identify and declare her own emotions.  She’s also smart enough to know who to share them with.  Love is a battlefield, butches.  Choose your words carefully–we all know the pen is mightier than the sword…and as a lesbian, I’ll argue that the tongue is mightier still.

Brace Yourself

In The Nouveau Butch, Tools of the Trade on February 13, 2009 at 1:54 pm


Ever since Egyptian times people have worn charm bracelets, and even before that, men would gather unusual bits of wood or pieces of stone to ward off their enemies. These were considered ‘lucky charms’ and powerful protectors against evil. Today, wearing the right accessories can be life or death and there ain’t no charm in that..

When you want to load up on the big stuff there is no-one better than Chrome Hearts:
braceLuis Morais has something for everybody, his jewelry masterfully combines skulls with diamonds, and leather with pearls….it’s rock’n roll with sparkle, very NB, so with these on your wrist you will be able to ward off evil and find your ‘Goddess’ for the afterlife! 
Or finally add strength to your look and outfit with a bullet- deflecting leather wrist band -If she can do it so can you:

So whatever the look, whether you’re fighting crime or donning chrome, bracing yourself with the proper accessories should bring you the best of luck!

Nuevo Neo–the Matrix of Love

In The Nouveau Butch on February 11, 2009 at 7:24 pm

I hate to be the one to state the obvious, but Valentine’s Day is near. For those of you who have a lady, it’s time to step it up.  And for those of you who don’t have a lady but have your eye on one lady in particular, it’s time for you to step it up as well. And for those of you who have no lady and no interest in one particular lady, then it’s clearly time for you to step it up (unless, of course, you’re “happy being single” and “wouldn’t want a girlfriend even if a hot one fell in your lap”).  

Being the practical pragmatic romantic that I am, I decided that the best way to give you Feb Fourteen advice is to make a chart. I can’t guarantee success, because sometimes girls are weird and stuff, but maybe it will inspire you to do something better than dinner and flowers (blah) or some sort of urban vomit (carriage ride in a park by a mistreated horse, ice skating with tourists, etc.). 

For those of you who are have the sense to read New York magazine, then you’ll definitely recognize the Approval Matrix-style chart that I have going on. If you can’t figure out how to read it or don’t understand it, then, well, I hope you already have a girlfriend who values all of your other qualities.

(click on the title to view matrix) Read the rest of this entry »

It’s Not You, It’s My Libido

In The Nouveau Butch on February 10, 2009 at 5:11 pm

The following was written by our friend *chezzabellah* in response to Bossy Bottom’s article “Breaking up with Straight People” :




I remember fondly the first moment I heard about gay bars at the ripe age of 17, after being denied at the third straight bar we tried to enter, lacking proper ID to get past the bouncer. It went something like this: “I know of a gay bar we can probably get into!” Before I could sing one line of a Culture Club song, my best friend and I were effortlessly gliding through the door at Ryan’s, the hottest gay bar in upstate New York. Little did we know we had met our destiny as the hottest fag hags in town. 

Nothing could have seemed more glamorous or fun than to be immersed in a gay man’s lair where multitudes of hot men danced with us, doing poppers beneath the disco ball to “You Spin Me Round”, getting us drinks and lavishing us with male attention we had never experienced before at any straight bar. Usually, we’d have to wait until the end of the night when all the “cooler girls” were taken and the guys left over were too drunk to even see your face clearly, but horny enough to take you home anyway. Gay men actually appreciated us, commented on how great we looked, genuinely seemed interested in our lives… and our outfits. 

Soon my friend and I were the belles of the ball. We increased our entourage of homos, and soon all our closest friends were gay or fag hags that we recruited from the “underage club for future female alcoholics”. They not only would happily go shopping with us, but actually had real concern for what clothes we chose, what color lipstick best matched our complexion and taught us how to look “fierce”. They fed us the lines to every Madonna song while they cooked for us, made up beds for us to sleep in  (while our parents thought we were sleeping at girlfriends houses) and even wrote notes for us so we could skip school when too hung over to deal with Biology. They became not only our best friends, but our mommies & daddys all wrapped up into one. 

For years, I really thought I had “boyfriends”. Of course there were the ones with only one foot out of the closet who would sometimes make out with me. The only time I ever came home with a hickey was from a gay man (aptly named BJ) but I didn’t really know how to tell my furious mother that, so I let her think she was raising a potential slut for the convenience of heterosexual assumption.  

Then one night I was watching as a drag queen successfully hit on this really hot guy. Sure, “she” was gorgeous and had a much better butt than me, but as I watched her Adam’s apple bobbing up and down and listened to her deep, husky voice with its femme fatale cadence, while my friend Joe simultaneously tried to convince me to distract one guy while he had sex in the bathroom with another,  it hit me like a ton of bricks: YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO GET LAID IF YOU CONTINUE TO HANG OUT WITH GAY MEN. 

Maybe it was that I was maturing or that I needed more male attention below the neck, but my libido was crying out to me and it was time that I listened. I had to break up with my homos. 

I genuinely enjoyed hanging out with them and to this day, I have the best times with my gay friends, but being a wing “fag hag” just isn’t enough and they weren’t willing to compromise. To be in a bar around straight men (the gays ultimate conquest, btw) watching them drool over women without the hope of a date was akin to a vampire in a room full of pulsating vein filled necks they couldn’t bite. 

We could still “be friends” but I just couldn’t spend every waking moment with them anymore. This didn’t fare well with most of them and after I met the love of my life, it really turned sour. My main homo, Greg, who I had planned to start a family with where he could go off with men and I could, well, take care of the kids (side note: WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?) didn’t take it so well. He made me mix tapes all with songs relating to the true value of friendship and every conversation turned into how friends stuck with you till the end but when romance was involved one was always taking a huge chance and setting oneself up for potential disaster. I realized then that the gays could be as selfish as the heteros when they wanted their women, but that my primal need for sex and affection could only be relieved by one of the two. 

So in essence, it is never you my dear gay boyfriends, it’s just my libido.


From Butch to Bitch & Back Again

In Tools of the Trade on February 9, 2009 at 8:10 pm

Let’s talk bootiful boots!  God is that awful…

Anyway, we’ll start with the basics.  Here’s one place where Old School Butch and the NB cross paths.  The necessity for a great pair of boots is universal.  If you’re kickin up the shit somewhere South of the Mason Dixon, or just standing your ground in a sexy urban setting, the perfect pair can make you feel sturdy, steady, and yes, even sexy.

Frye boots have graced the feet of all walks of life.  Civil War soldiers and 1960’s rebels alike have rocked these American classics.  Mr. Frye started making boots back in 1863, and the brand has a rich heritage.  Presently, their parent company is the licensee for Coach leatherwear and Calvin Klein footwear.  It’s almost like being chic in disguise.  **Sidenote: knowing the intimate details of one’s clothes can be extremely alluring.  Being an expert on the packaging you wrap yourself in says that you’re thoughtful, meticulous, and learned–something every NB strives for:

The American Classic

The American Classic

Fiorentini+Baker, weird name right, sounds a bit like a pop group or a restaurant–these boots are certainly tasty and really do rock!  Butches, meet Eli, Eli, say hello to your new friends.  This greased-leather, round-toe bad-girl will split your heart with it’s top-split, Italian attitude.  Try not to drool…

Kickin' Ass, Takin Names

Kickin' Ass, Takin Names

Moving from biker to babe,  check out another pair by F&B.  They offer just a touch of heel. I think you owe it to yourself now and then to switch up your look–keeps em on their toes (and with these boots we are talking quite literally).  This boot is called “Bi”–please hold the snickers–is a convertible high boot which can be taken to ankle length using the snaps just above the bottom buckle.  It takes a very specific kind of butch to pull these off…or rather, to put them on.  Hopefully, you’ve got someone else to pull your clothes off.



More cow-bell? What? No, more staff-bel?  Huh?  OH! More Belstaff!  Of course!  Why didn’t you say so in the first place.  There’s something predatory and powerful about this gorgeous pair.  And you know what they say (both in the animal kingdom and the lesbian one): Eat or be eaten.

Boss Biatch

Boss Biatch

Or if your taste is more vintage, this second pair should make your hair stand on end.  You could enter a room topless in these black beaties and still all eyes would be on your boobs…I meant boots…oh who are we kidding?  Still, someone would compliment your footwear.

Big Bad Bikin' Boots

Big Bad Bikin' Boots

 Pick your pair, strap ’em on, and head out for a walk.  All of these boots were made for walkin–so that’s just what you should do!  Late, perhaps your pals could ask: Who’s bed have you boots been under?  Or perhaps, you could Shake, shake, shake–shake, shake, shake–shake your booties!



Weekend Lymeric

In The Nouveau Butch on February 7, 2009 at 5:31 pm


There once was a man from Pagoda

Who wouldn’t pay the gal what he owed her

So she stood on a chair

And with great savoir faire

She pissed in his scotch & soda.



***Every NB should have a few tricks up her sleeve: a joke, a lymeric, a parlor trick.  It adds to the mystery.***

Happy Weekend,

B. Cassidy


In Relationships, The Nouveau Butch on February 6, 2009 at 6:13 am

youre-the-topI was at a party recently and met a woman who had the most fascinating stories.  She was extremely well-traveled, had seen so many things, and met really interesting people.  She told her stories with a sense of importance and urgency. Listening to her was truly an experience.  But if you would have asked who made the greatest impression on me that night, I would not have said her.  There was someone else there, someone who listened to me with a sense of importance and urgency, who asked me questions, and made me feel like the most interesting person in the room.  This was truly a master NB.  

Most of the time I consider myself the top, the Mona Lisa, the top, the Tower of Pisa…. You get the point.  But once in a blue moon, there’s someone who out-maneuvers me, who places me in her sights, and treats me the way I make great effort to treat others.  Without even realizing, I find myself at the mercy of another NB, and I do my best to enjoy the ride.  When the charm is performed well, it’s disarming and incredibly enjoyable.  I take it as an opportunity to enjoy the view from the other side of the bridge.  Of course there’s a small part of me taking notes and stealing moves, but I try to do my best to play the part of the “lady” and accept the attention of another adoring butch.  Once I have my bearings, I fall back into my natural manner of NB courtesy and we race around the city, both reaching for door-handles at the same time, fighting over dinner-checks (and eventually wrestling our way around the bedroom).  Inevitably, we come to some impasse and both get our backs up about something completely inarguable–but in the beginning, it’s always grand.

I don’t particularly care for the notion of strict gender-roles, especially in the context of a lesbian relationship; and I’d like to think that if the hearts are matched, the details will work themselves out.  But I will admit that the longest running relationships I’ve experienced or born witness to have been of a somewhat symbiotic nature wherein the strengths of one (i.e. some kind of stability, preparation, and/or positivity) compensate for the needs of the other–and these things often go hand-in-hand with the stereotypical male/female motif.  So the question remains: if one NB enters the harbor at 6am traveling at a speed 30 knots, and another steps out onto the dock at 8am with a soy late and a copy of The Island Packet–is it possible they’ll notice each other’s madras shorts by the lighthouse and fall in love?  Hopeless romantic that I am, methinks yes.

I’ll be the first to admit when I’m wrong, but I think that if two NB’s fall in love, the potential for passion is prodigious–to say the least.  A lifetime of courtesy and consideration becomes enormously appealing at a certain point in one’s lesbian career.  After you’ve had the bad girls, been kicked around by the tom-boys, and drowned in someone’s puddle of mixed (yet shallow) emotions, even the sturdiest of butches can see the benefits of meeting someone of like-mind.  It’s the opinion of this NB that as long as the physical connection is strong, and the emotional one is of equal weight, the rest can be sorted with relative ease.  And as we expand our search, open our eyes to all opportunities, and listen to the quiet ones–we may find that when similarities are superficial but the connections are deep, the possibility for compatibility is extraordinary indeed.  Fortunately, our generation of Gay has blown the doors off of the boring boxes of BUTCH/FEMME–at least the all-caps kinds….  The beauty of the  Nouveau Butch is that she knows the performance of gender to be just that: a performance.  We acknowledge that all the world is a stage, and we play whatever part pleases us. Granted, playing the butch is preferable to me (most of the time), but not to the exclusion of any other beneficial behaviors–and certainly not for the purpose of exerting power to prove predominance.  The NB is flexible, not rigid.  Compromise is key–not for the sake of the sacrifice (martyrdom is terribly tiresome), but for the greater good, the pleasure of all parties involved.  And that is the the intention of every move in the NB handbook.

As Always,


For Whom the Belstaff Tolls

In The Nouveau Butch, Tools of the Trade on February 5, 2009 at 5:53 am


Americans take note!  There’s a reason the Euro set always seem to be a cut ahead of the rest when it comes to dress. They’ve got access to brands like this one–not yet sold in the US, but available online.  If you can ignore the recession and invest in some timeless pieces like these, you’ll travel in style for miles to come.  Whether you’re of the corporate sort or simply dressing to impress, a topcoat is an easy way to make a lasting first impression:


Take me to your leader.833851564a9928f6edc1ddd2eed987df

Take me to your leader.

Both of these stunning coats embody a style that never seems to fade into oblivion.  They have that sort of sexy military madam/come-hither look.  They must be worn with confidence and an extra layer of eyeliner.  If your style is a bit more casual, perhaps a motorcycle jacket is more your speed.  And whether you pull up on a custom chopper or slide out of a taxi cab, this piece is quite fetching on most.  The cloth says you’ve got taste, the cut says you’ve got balls:

Wanna go for a ride?

Wanna go for a ride?

If you need a day off from black (sighs with disappointment), I suppose an afternoon drive in jeans and some brown leather won’t do you any harm.  Keeping it in the family, this is vintage Belstaff (worn by DiCaprio playing Howard Hughes in The Aviator–nod & a wink to Ms Blanchette hot hot hot):


Wait…what were we talking about?  Oh right, fashion…  Here’s the jacket:

Lookin Fly.

Lookin Fly.

So depending on the mood, Rock chick/ Tom boy/Rebel NB (with a cause off course) – off you go.  I would aim to have timeless shapes in my wardrobe, and notice please there is not a sniff of faux in the house! Girls in real leather (not trousers, not my thing) with the attitude to match – what a turn on.  So grab your flask, saddle up, and head out for a brisk ride in these cool winter months.