One Year of Juna
Written by Erin Norton
It’s been one whole year of Charm by Clairo. In my humble opinion, it was one of the best albums of last year. Eclectic, with a general sunny 70’s flare, each song felt cohesive and strung together like a line of children holding hands on an urban field trip—each one connected at the palms in necessity and wide eyed whimsy. I remember listening to the album in its entirety in my second Boston apartment. Having been so enamored in a queer relationship at the time, each song felt like a warm hug. I sat on the floor as I applied my makeup for the day and listened intently. I wasn’t just seeing myself in my little compact mirror as I swiped on my blue mascara, I really saw myself in Charm. Vulnerability, intimacy, and solitude were captured so delicately like fireflies in a mason jar. I was in awe of her attention to detail of these seemingly universal, yet fleeting, feelings and experiences. The song that struck me the very most was“ Juna.”
“ You make me wanna try on feminine.” You’ve got to be kidding meeeeee. As a typically very high femme lesbian, this hit. In the beginning of my sexuality and gender expression journey, I felt it was imperative that I was perceived as exactly what I am: Gay? Confused about my gender? I was terrified to appear“ girly” if my fellow queer and gender nonconforming counterparts were sleek, androgynous, and esoteric.
When I identified as queer and engaged in straight relationships, I purposefully dressed more“ masc” because I felt as though I had to prove a point. Furthermore, I felt that I had to make up for what was lacking in my heterosexual relationships. Which, to me, was being more boyish in terms of my expression, much to my boyfriends’ dismay. This should have been a giant, glaring indicator of two huge issues. 1. Girl, you’re fully gay and are experiencing gender confusion!! 2. You don’t feel fully comfortable in your own skin or around this person!! At least that was the situation for me, obviously, this is not a one size fits all case study.
The second I came to the realization that I was in fact a lesbian and my dating habits began to reflect this revelation, I felt myself gravitating towards skirts, blouses, and tubes of Glossier cloud paint. I thought that part of the whole being-gay-thing was having this whole aesthetic, a uniform, if you will. Don’t get me wrong though, I will be wearing my dyke keys on any kind of beltloop (or if not, they will be dangling from my pimped out, yet ratchet Longchamp). I finally felt comfortable trying on feminine around this time last year. Last June, I attended NYC Pride with my then-girlfriend. I wore a lavender bustier; a gift from a previous queer relationship; a long rust orange satin skirt, and a red, pink, and orange keffiyeh. I hope my efforts to channel the lesbian flag were effective. The following month, when I finally heard“ Juna” for the first time, I felt that it was a confirmation and a testament to my femme expression.
Together, my then-girlfriend and I went to Clairo’s Boston concert when autumn was on the verge of winter. The set channeled the retro vibes of the album. It was lush, earth toned, down to earth, yet extravagant. Each song she performed energized me. I’ve always been a Clairo fan (a die-hard fan of Sling, personally), therefore every song on the setlist felt adjacent to a religious experience. Of course“ Juna” was included in her encore. I beamed as she performed the song, but squealed when she announced she would sing it a second time in a row.“ I know this one is really popular, let’s do it again,” she said. I looked over at my girlfriend hoping that she shared my same excitement. After all, this was the song I associated with her. I asked her if she wanted to dance with me, even just for her to hold my waist and sway together. She seemed embarrassed at the idea. I tried not to take offense to her delicate rejection of my hopelessly romantic wish.
Ultimately, it turns out that a relationship is not necessary for me to feel feminine either. I still listen to Charm very often. Not just because it reminds me of the original memories it underscored, but because it reminds me of myself. My roots, my expression, my feelings. All that my femininity hinges on is myself and my own comfortability. Of course, having a partner to frolic with while“ Juna” plays helps. But for now, you’ll find me reveling in“ girly” delight with my headphones on, dancing in my childhood bedroom. I catch myself in the reflection of my vanity mirror as I slink about the room and sing the lyrics to my reflection.
