What’s O Caftan My Caftan?

O Caftan My Caftan is a newsletter written by me, Krista Burton! It’s a space where I’ll talk about fun queer stuff (or stuff that’s not overtly queer that I’m making queer because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ oops everything’s gay.) I’ll post themed columns and offer my most strongly worded!!!! recommendations for shit I like.

It’s called O Caftan My Caftan because there is a 99.999% chance I’m wearing a caftan right this second, and also I like bad puns.

Wait, why are we doing this?

For laffs! I’m thrilled you’re reading this right now! I know there are plenty of excellent newsletters out there where you could spend your time, but if you also want to hang out here with me, I’d genuinely love to do that. A long time ago, I used to write a blog called Effing Dykes, and I miss the cozy, clubby feeling of writing and posting about whatever I want. I miss having fun on the internet.

O Caftan My Caftan is my answer to that. It’s also a naked attempt to force myself to get back into a regular writing practice again. In June of 2023, my first book (Moby Dyke: An Obsessive Quest to Track Down the Last Remaining Lesbian Bars in America) came out, and it was so exciting! And… I haven’t written a thing since. I’ve been casually redirecting anyone who asks me, “What are you working on now?” for several months at this point, so. It’s time.

The final reason for O Caftan My Caftan is: you. Up until three years ago, I’d spent my entire adult life in big cities. Now I live in a small town in rural Minnesota, and I miss having a large and varied queer community. It’s becoming more and more clear I need to find a community like that online, because driving 45 minutes in the winter darkness up to the Twin Cities to attend a queer weeknight meetup when the roads are solid sheets of black ice feels like a choice.

To illustrate: A couple of weeks ago, I was driving home at midnight from a birthday party in Minneapolis when a deer jumped in front of my car. I slammed on my brakes; she slammed on her haunches, legs skidding everywhere, and for a second, nobody moved – we both just stared at each other through the windshield, stunned. Then she lolloped away into the fields, and I thought, “what if I had more internet friends?”

But who are you, Krista?

I wrote this question myself and I’ve been staring at my laptop for 30 minutes trying to answer it. WHO AM I?

I’m a 40-year-old white, cis, lesbian, ex-Mormon woman. My pronouns are she/her and I identify as high femme, but that does not mean I identify with high heels, because I am also incredibly clumsy. I live in Northfield, Minnesota with my husband, Davin, who is trans and kind and infuriatingly handsome, I mean I dare you to take a bad photo of this man, and our two sassy dogs, Elwood and Teddy. I have a full-time day job and several on-again-off-again part-time jobs.

I like aggressively fizzy water, queers, perfume, dyke bars, reading while lying down, baking cakes, talking shit, going on trips, staying out of emergency rooms, reality TV, thrifting tiny tchotchkes, walking my dogs while trying to see into rich people’s houses, and trying out bold makeup techniques right before I take a shower. In addition to my old blog, Effing Dykes, and my new book, Moby Dyke, I’ve written for Rookie, The New York Times, The Guardian, Elle, and VICE, among other places.

Why should I subscribe?

Because you want to, hopefully! And you want to get this newsletter delivered right to your inbox! I don’t think there’s going to be anything on here that you’ll have to pay to read. At least, not yet. Maybe in the future I’ll think of something incredible to offer paying subscribers?

For now, please only think about buying a paid subscription if it doesn’t place any financial strain on you and you want to help me fulfill a recurring daydream I have of quietly paying off Davin’s student loans. (The fantasy goes like this: One day, not long from now, Davin gets a letter in the mail from his student loan provider that says, “Balance: $0. Paid in full.” He turns to me, his mouth open. I smile mysteriously.)

This daydream could use some embroidering, but in this economy?? it’s enough of a fantasy! If you end up paying to subscribe, know this: I will be hugely, speechlessly grateful. I know how how many ways your money is being pulled, believe me.

What else?

I’ll probably post once or twice a week. My instagram is here. I’m not a paid partner with anyone, so anything I’m talking up is something I just really need to yell about!!

Where can I get a caftan?

The thrift store! Check the pajama section. But also, caftan energy is a state of mind, dahling. Any loose-fitting, housecat-like outfit will get you there! Caftan energy is fancy and flowing and high femme and gay and loungey. It does not do dishes.

You don’t have to have a caftan, but whatever you’re wearing as you read this, let me offer you my sincerest hope that it doesn’t have a stiff, tight waistband. Let us be free!