Thanks to Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Jonathan Van Ness' round-the-clock Instagram stories, and ice skating demigods like Adam Rippon, queer men are having their moment in the spotlight. Queer women, meanwhile, are relying on old DVDs of The L Word and erotic fantasies of the upcoming reboot. Sure, between The Fosters and Orange Is the New Black, there have been plenty of shows that feature queer characters since The L Word premiered. But what made Broad City special -- what makes it so hard for some of us to say goodbye after the show aired its final episode on Thursday -- was how it centered queerness, particularly bisexual queer identities, at its heart. It technically classifies as a "sorta queer show."
This piece is part of the Radical issue, a special package from Outward, Slate's home for coverage of LGBTQ life, thought, and culture. The First Amendment is a source of anxiety these days, for queer communities specifically and progressive communities more broadly. That anxiety is not unfounded. From efforts to erode LGBTQ anti-discrimination laws to decisions striking down common-sense regulations providing women information on their reproductive options, the First Amendment is being deployed as a deregulatory tool. But disquiet regarding the First Amendment's transformation into a conservative cudgel should be tempered with an understanding of its continued emancipatory potential for queer people.
This post is part of Outward, Slate's home for coverage of LGBTQ life, thought, and culture. I didn't have a relationship with a woman until I was 23. I had joined a feminist book group in the summer of 2016, and one night we all went out to see an indie rock band called Tops. Lauren had a long history with the girls in the book group, and she was visiting from a town nearby. She dressed like James Dean, had a bleached buzz cut, and cast a bright, intense energy.
A new, multifaceted app intended as a safe, community-oriented space for gender-variant and queer people from all across the spectrum of sexuality and gender identity is now available. GENDR, released July 12, is a subscription-based platform that provides its users with educational resources about queer experiences, facilitates meet-ups and organizes live-chats about queer issues, all in an effort to provide an overall safe space for judgement-free communication and discussion among queer people about the nuances of their identities and lives? "Some of us in the gender variant and queer community, though part of the LGBT umbrella, feel different from the gay community, or don't always feel like we fit in," co-founder Barry Brandon told The Huffington Post. "There are few to no destinations – on or offline – for us to connect and be able to proudly share how we identify up front."
This piece is part of the Passing issue, a special package from Outward, Slate's home for coverage of LGBTQ life, thought, and culture. I see it from across the store and immediately dive in for closer inspection. Beautifully color-illustrated model airplanes dot soft beige cotton, flying criss-cross across the arms, the chest, the collar, and the column of buttons extending from neck to navel. I pick a men's medium off the rack, hoping my double-D chest--once tucked tightly behind a sports bra, of course--will fit. I might have to safety pin the button gap, I muse.