pride month: a shopping guide!
& quotations, tweets, resources, etc.
Also known as officially Pride Month so, from today until 6/30, if any hiring committees reject my application, I’m calling it homophobia.1
As a creative person myself—and someone who tries to keep up with really great queer-owned businesses, I thought I’d offer a little ~Pride Month shopping guide~ to anyone out there, like me, likes to consume.
Now is a better time than ever to buy a gift for yourself or loved one & support a LGBTQ+ artist/writer at the same time. Yay!
So here’s what I have for you today:
The gift guide
Resources for paying subscribers
THE PRIDE GUIDE
As you already know, I have a few ~creative endeavors~ myself.
I’ve thoroughly been enjoying resurrecting old t-shirt graphics as well as creating new ones.
You’ve heard of I ♥ NY—now get ready for:
& here are some other styles you might like:
Anyways, here are some pics:
In terms of shirts, I also highly recommend The Peach Fuzz.
Elizabeth has some really wonderful queer gear.
Being the long-time fan that I am, here’s me wearing some!
Alyssa Giannini makes very good buttons.
I’ve been lusting for ages over this shirt.
Iconic sweatshirt for everyone who was dressed in GAP as a child.
My friend Mars makes some great trans pride t-shirts.
Girl of Swords’ t-shirts are iconic & I think I’m going to buy about five tonight. (Note: 15% off with code PRIDE22.)
ToxicFemme666 has some great shirts, too.
These trans earrings (!!!) by Leo Mateus (or this trans necklace)
A custom beaded necklace (scroll thru here for some examples)
For the home:
I love the ceramics that Sweeney Brown makes. I bought a few spoon-rests for my mom last Christmas!
Here are a few cute mugs they designed—
they’re really pretty so they could also just serve as home decor.
Or you can snag some wall art:
I make hand-cut collages that are one-of-a-kind (all under $15)
Trans candles! Omg!:
(That’s all of you!)
Okay, that’s it for today’s shopping guide.
Maybe I’ll do another one soon. I really love to promote artists’ work when I can.
Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself.
-Anne Sexton, “You, Doctor Martin”
[At the Museum of Death, we felt] not enjoyment, but something surely close, something rotting in our sleeves, a desire to witness what could become of our own skin. The first images made my mouth go dry, but then—a husk, a coal-lipped quiet, the way your fingers prune after sitting in the bath for too long.
-Sofia Sears, “Anatomy of a Girl-Poet”
Once my parents wanted to gild me, jar me. Once someone told me I mattered to them and I believed it.
Can our language give too much, can we describe loss in too many words, too graphic, too true?
Us girl-poets, in particular, must be suicidal to be remembered at all.
Poetry believes in living, in the grit-your-teeth and sharpen-your-skin worth of it. It reveals, however minute, a want to be known, to be believed.
I can’t touch people without terror in my throat. I can give myself in universal, unspecific ways, but touching anyone with just my hands seems like an unhinging of some sturdy, bone-walled house I’ve spent my whole life building.