When i was 16, I was seduced by a 34-year-old lesbian teacher with whom I lived for a year and a half. It was a horribly boring time: I was lonely, isolated, and sometimes terrified, because she stressed that she would go to prison if I told anyone. Since she flaunted me as her trophy girlfriend, I was annoyed by her hypocrisy and confided in a few trusted friends. But I never felt safe with her. And, really, I wasn’t safe.

One of my few goodish memories of that time was not connected to her. It was of a women’s dance, which I later remembered as The Women’s Dance. It was, as far as I could see, the most exciting thing ever to happen in the Lesbian Community.  Flyers were posted on bulletin boards all over town. Usually gay women engaged in “butch” activities like baseball and Judo. Dancing was positively girlish in comparison. And, as it turned out, it was quite the dress-up affair.

The informal dress code was drag:  D-R-A-G. Yup. Everyone wore a men’s suit from Goodwill. I was indignant. Didn’t they want to buck the stereotypes? But I think it was a kind of hip parody of “bulldykes” that no one got except a few insiders. Two friends went to Goodwill with me and we bought musty sports jackets.  Nothing could compel us to try on what we called Dead Men’s Suits.

A smallish crowd of women milled and thronged at the dance, or more like hovered around the refreshment table in a large, freezing room above a store.  Was there wine, or were they drinking the Kool-Aid?  My friends and I hovered around the record player and inspected the albums.  It  was mostly women’s music, I think.  Carole King? Linda Ronstadt? Bonnie Raitt?  But perhaps someone snuck in the Beatles or the Yardbirds. Political correctness was a thing, but did it extend to music? Surely not.

It would have been more fun if there had been any hint of frivolity:  colorful blouses, hoop earrings, and a few decorations, even of the paper chain variety.  But somebody must have been having fun,  Honestly, the drab men’s suits put me off. But drag is fun for those who like drag…

We ducked out after half an hour.

N.B. The gay women were kind, except for the seducer, but I escaped at age 18, relieved beause (a) I wasn’t gay, and (b) it was boring.