It’s Scissoring Time
Sapphic style is emerging as a cultural language through which queer women assert visibility, subvert normative aesthetics, and redefine identity on their own terms.
Cara Delevingne embodies sapphic-coded confidence through relaxed suiting, playful defiance, and a gaze that queers the frame—blending femme embellishment with masc tailoring in a self-possessed, anti-gaze posture. Photograph by Alasdair McLellan, courtesy of British Vogue. © All rights belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
For a long time, the LGBTQ+ flag seemed to represent mostly gay men. Take the Pride parade, for example, which is still referred to by many as the “gay parade.” Think of famous queer artists from the past, aren’t most of them men? Freddie Mercury, Little Richard, Elton John, David Bowie, you name it. The same pattern can be seen in literature, movies, and TV shows. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a “man-hater,” but it’s worth reflecting on how the queer movement has often centered around cisgender men. After all, it’s still a man's world.
While gay men have historically taken the spotlight, it’s finally starting to be shared. The other letters in our acronym have long remained in the shadows, but today, we’re bringing sapphic core to the table. Especially with the rise of social media, a fascinating feminomenon has emerged: lesbian and bisexual women are trending.
One of the coolest things about social media today is how easy it is to find people you can relate to. My TikTok algorithm is all about women-loving-women content: there’s Lesbiantok gossip, cute videos about life with two mommies, new artists, couple trends, masc makeup tutorials, fun clips of girlfriends, and all things sapphic. This might be one of the reasons we’re seeing queer women rise into visibility. There was a whole community of underrepresented people eager to find and support content made by them and for them.
This digital visibility didn’t stay confined to niche corners of the internet, it’s hitting pop culture too. It’s no surprise to see the impact of celebrities like Billie Eilish, Doechii, Chappell Roan, and Reneé Rapp. These platforms have also brought more visibility to artists who are less mainstream, such as Kehlani, Raveena, Clairo, girl in red, and Fletcher.
Chappell Roan’s sassy lyrics have captured the hearts of a generation raised on wlw fanfics on Wattpad and she’s now reached mainstream status. Doechii, umbrellas aside, is openly bisexual and proudly states she has always known she loves women. Meanwhile, Billie Eilish, who has recently come out, released “Guess” with Charli XCX, getting everyone to sing along on the radio about having a crush on another girl, and casually trying to guess the color of her underwear.
But even with this exciting increase in representation, it’s impossible to ignore who’s getting most of the attention. It's important to observe that the majority of these women are white and conventionally feminine presenting. Yes, we’re seeing more representation, but we also need to consider how true diversity is still lacking. There are countless ways to be a queer woman and we want to see that reflected in our cultural scenario too. For a long time, the dominant broad imagination has boiled lesbians down to a single possibility: the butch. But now, where are they in the media?
Still, some artists are pushing those boundaries in their own way. I love how Eilish, for example, plays with both ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ features in her styling. She’s known for her signature baggy clothes, but she also embraces defined silhouettes and low-cut necklines. Just a side note: a girl can do both.
When I think of a ‘lesbian’, my mind jumps to jeans, a white tee, a leather jacket, combat boots, and short hair. Yes, I may have just described Shane from The L Word, but what I love most about this cultural moment is how the community is embracing the many ways of expressing sapphic identity.
The L Word, leaving its problems aside, is a great example of this: the show about a queer group of female friends has showcased sapphic realness in all its forms: Latina, Black, more feminine, or more masculine, bisexual, lesbian… The wardrobe of the production is also a great example of that diverse expression. While some characters had a more ‘professional’ look wearing mostly pantsuits, others were more to the girly side with dresses and skirts, not to mention the presence of athleisure as well, a classic.
These representations of sapphic identity also show up in how we express ourselves through fashion. Those styling choices communicated a lot about the characters' personalities and lifestyles, but we do the same outside the telly. For a long time, dressing a certain way helped signal to other women that you were part of the community, and also a ‘men repeller’ tool. Fem, masc, lipstick lesbian, chapstick lesbian, stud, butch, tomboy femme… the glossary is immense. Therefore, we have all kinds of women who are into women, from all sorts of religious, ethnic, racial, and cultural backgrounds.
Still, it feels good to see the symbolism, whether it's short nails or a carabiner holding keys on your pant’s belt loop. Symbols vary from place to place, and every culture has its own little sapphic trademarks. As a Brazilian, one of ours is the coconut ring, especially when you wear it with your loved one. It’s a rite of passage within the youth. The ring, however, is widely recognized in the wlw world: wearing several of them, or placing one on your pinky and/or thumb, are signs too. And beyond imagery, there’s function. Maybe queer women gravitate toward these pieces as part of their identity because there’s less pressure to act or look a certain way. We’re not dressing to impress men, we’re dressing for ourselves, in every sense.
Many of the elements people associate with the ‘lesbian dress code’ are practical or comfortable choices, like comfier shoes, backpacks, baggier clothes, and even shorter hair. Is that what happens when we stop caring about the male gaze? It’s not a coincidence that dads have their dad’s sneakers and that men's pants have bigger pockets, those pieces were designed with intention. They weren’t made to be appealing, sexy, or even cute. Men’s clothes, usually, are designed for function: to fit stuff, dress comfortably, and feel good. Can you spark the difference? So whether it’s rings, boots, or backpacks, our fashion choices tell a deeper story and communicate so much before we even open our mouths. Queer women have been behind the scenes for a long time but now, we’re reaching way higher.
It’s scissoring time: to love, flirt, act, and dress in ways that reflect who we are. Our style is part of the story we tell, a celebration of the many ways we express our sapphic identity. So, let’s keep breaking the norms and showing our pride on our fingers (pun intended).
