MARCH 03, 2019 – GIRLY (ISS. 05)
This week’s selected zine is “girly” (issue 5). It’s a bit of a throwback. It was originally published in 1996 by Editrix Mona in London.
The zine features newspaper clippings, op-ed pieces, info on upcoming events, tips on breast binding, book reviews, and a whole lot more, all centered on transgender folk and identity. The material is sourced from Mona’s “tentative mumblings” and contributions, which are requested but come with the caveat that “not everything gets printed, and even [Mona’s] pals get edited. Girly is not a democracy. [Mona] pay[s] for it, [Mona] put[s] it together, so [Mona] decide[s]."
I find this zine to be a fascinating time capsule from the (London) trans community of the ‘90s. It’s amazing to see how much has changed, how much hasn’t, and how badass these trans folk were.
In a short intro, Mona poses the question: “Transgender: a fancy PC term or just a pretentious new label?" The idea that “transgender" was, at the time, a “new” identity (label) is a thrilling prospect for my study. As I’m interested in how non-binary folk represent themselves in zines, to go back to a time when the language we have today was considered “new” (or was even nonexistent) provides an exciting look at alternative representation practices that work to navigate around such unstable language.
Some of the practices I’ve found so far in “girly” include:
(Re)claiming language, which can be observed in the title itself. Mona acknowledges that “the name is meant to be ironic.” The use of this word, typically deployed as a belittlement, allows Mona to both alter the context in which “girly” is used, and to use it “ironically,” rendering it absurd.
Forging connections. This practice occurs when the zine author(s) attempt to reach out to their readership. Forging connections can manifest in a few ways. For example, in a short contribution titled “Mr and Mrs Chick w/ Dick," the author asks the reader repeatedly, “if you saw me and my honey walking together, what would you see?" This question confronts the reader and encourages them to engage with the text. Alternatively, this zine also features a short column about London's “Lesbian Gay Bisexual & TRANSGENDER PRIDE" in 1996. In this section the author shares information about the event, details where to find the “transgender contingent" of the march, and even includes a photo of an organizer with the caption: “this is me – say hi!" Here we can see the author forging connections with readers to encourage relationships beyond the text itself.
Sharing knowledge. This self-explanatory tactic consists of sharing knowledge (personal or otherwise) through the zine text and images. In this issue of “girly," we find a short section on breast binding tips for “women who want to drag up as men," as well as a “Girly Guide to Brighton." Both of these passages work to share personal knowledge gained through experience. In another regard, the zine also contains a handful of relatively minor notes including one about Anne Fausto-Sterling's research to debunk the sex binary myth and another about a new “Journal of Transgender Politics."
The sharing of knowledge is a powerful tool for two reasons: first, it creates space to recognize lived experience as a true form of knowledge; second, it appropriates academic knowledge, typically privileged information, and makes it accessible to the (zine-reading) public.
These rhetorical and discursive tactics, along with many others in this zine, work to carve out a location for those breaking away from the gender binary. This zine is a glorious emblem of zine and DIY and punk aesthetics. If you've never read a zine before, it's a great one to start with. If you have read a zine before, it's a great one to add to the list.
