Featured in Farrago Magazine Edition Three 2026 as part of the Dyke's Daily column

Design by Ashley Oetomo

To run a stall at the Brunswick Community Flea Market selling your handmade jewellery or crocheted teapot cosies was the height of lesbian social status. For Clover, this was her chance to show off her various creative pursuits: polka-dotted crocheted scarves, heart-shaped clay scissors and lesbian-flag coloured cupcakes. Clover’s roommate, Isla, was setting up alongside her with a haircutting station: Only mullets. Only $10. Proceeds were going to a queer housing initiative. Sophie was hanging up scarves on the rack. Dom was balancing the cupcakes on their stand. Alexandra, ecstatic, was running over to them with something in her hand.

“Look at what I got.” Alexandra whipped out a rose-coloured key chain with a cat on it saying: Lesbians eat what? “And it’s sustainably made from recycled materials!”

“And I thought you couldn’t get any gayer.” Sophie wrapped a scarf around Alexandra and blew her a kiss.

After Alexandra spent the remainder of summer mourning the loss of her relationship and coming to terms with the months spent apart from Trish, her friends declared that she had become a whole new woman. Not only was she eating and sleeping regularly again, but her vibrators got more time out of their hiding place and she was even considering going to Flippy’s for a drink with them! The progress she had made was undeniable and it would take something momentous to break it.

“Where do you guys think I can hang the mirror?” Isla was trying to position a full-length mirror away from the crowd.

Sophie propped it up on the side of the table, making sure to get a good look at herself. “I think right here is perfect. The lighting really shows off my jawline.”

“Alright Sophie, pack it up. You’re going to be making sure no one nicks these cupcakes while I run to the bathroom.” Clover had spent all morning packing and setting up and carrying cupcakes, after staying up all night knitting and baking and sculpting and desperately needing a moment away from her crochet hooks and piping bags.

“I’ll come with you, I think I just got my period.” Truthfully Dom was just hoping to grab an astrology inspired soy candle from the stall next door. Snakes started to form towards stalls as every gay person in Brunswick accompanied by their whippet arrived.

“So Isla, how do you think I would look with a mullet?” Sophie got back in front of the mirror, pushing the sides of her hair up.

Isla had her hands quite literally full, putting the rest of Clover’s clay scissors in a display bowl, but still turned to look at her. “I think you’d look good in anything.” She gave Sophie a quick smile, before turning back to her scissors. Sophie watched Isla, the curve of her arms and the curls of her hair. Was she hasty because she was sick of Sophie? Or was she embarrassed about such a forward comment?

“I think you need to get over yourself, Soph.” Alexandra could never take Sophie’s blatant egocentrism seriously (what Sophie called self-love and radical acceptance, Alexandra called being on track to a narcissism diagnosis) and Sophie could never understand why Alexandra was such a cockblock. Getting her away was the only option Sophie had.

“I just overheard some girls talking about how the gay key chain stall is selling everything at half price. You could always start a collection!”

Alexandra nearly knocked over the cupcake stand as she practically leapt over Sophie to get to her precious stall. Sophie’s obstacle was quickly removed.

“Why don’t you give me a haircut then?” Sophie poked Isla on the shoulder and smiled. Isla smiled back and grabbed her by the shoulders to sit her down on the chair.

“Sure. Pass me the scissors.” She brushed her hands through Sophie’s hair. “It already suits you so well, I’m only going to be trimming the sides.” She knelt down, making Sophie blush at the feeling of Isla’s breath on her ear. A moment alone with her to build some tension was the one thing Sophie needed.

“What happened to watching the cupcakes?” Clover. Back from the bathroom and immediately putting everyone back to work—maybe it wasn’t Alexandra who would be Sophie’s cockblock today.

Dom had gone back to the Carlton Baths at least three times a week hoping to see her pool crush again. She spent her time waiting in line trying to accept that maybe things weren’t meant to be between them—any thoughts of the pastel colour palette for their summer wedding (featuring lilies in the floral arrangements) would have to be put to rest.

She felt a tap on her shoulder. Dom turned. There she was. The moment she had been waiting for. Anita stood before her smiling, but not in a wedding dress as Dom had been picturing her for the past month, but still as beautiful as before.

“Dom!” she smiled. “Maybe I should have hit you in the head, that way you would’ve known it’s me.”

“Anita!” Dom had to make sure not to give away that she had been fantasising about this moment since their first meeting at the pool. She imagined them running into each other at Clay Organics on Rathdowne Street, both reaching for the same bag of pasta (chickpea rigatoni). Or maybe, she thought, they’d see each other at Market Lane Coffee—Dom with an oat flat white, Anita with a soy cap. Sometimes the fantasies would end with Dom going back to her house. Always they would end with a kiss. But seeing her in person, she had no idea how to even start the conversation. “So, what’re you doing here? Not that you can’t be here, that's totally fine, I’m just wondering.”

“I’m actually looking for a present for someone.”

Someone. Was she purposely being vague to leave out the fact that maybe this someone was a girlfriend? “Oh! For who? Not that you have to tell me. I’m just curious, because then maybe I can help pick out a gift if I know who it’s for. Like you wouldn’t get the same gift for your sister that you would a—”

“It’s for Mother’s Day”—Anita poked Dom’s arm—“so don’t worry, not a girlfriend.” A sigh of relief from Dom. None of her daydreams involved Anita seeing anyone else, and it would have been impossible to hide her disappointment. “I was actually thinking a candle would be perfect. You can help me pick one! She’s a Gemini.” Reality was turning out to be better than her fantasies. A lesbian’s dream date: looking for Gemini themed candles at the market together.

On the other side of the market, Alexandra was parting the crowd—intent on her mission to get a half-price key chain—when she noticed a familiar smell. Ambergris, specifically the Demeter ambergris-scented perfume from Lore. There was only one person she knew who wore this scent. The one person she had been hoping and praying not to run into for the past four months.

But there she was: Alexandra’s ex. She had to grab a knitted beanie from the nearest stall and pull it over her eyes as a disguise. It was most definitely Trish. Her long, black hair pinned up into a bun—just the way she would wear it when she was hungover. Alexandra could still remember the shampoo Trish used, how she would always ask Alexandra to give her a scalp massage while her hair was drying. But the woman beside Trish snapped Alexandra out of her reminiscence. The mystery woman looked like she had stepped straight out of a Teen Jesus music video. She looked completely different to Alexandra—bleach blonde hair down to her hips, arms covered in cybersigilism tattoos. Like every other lesbian who had spent the summer in Berlin. Alexandra couldn’t stand people who claimed to enjoy hard techno. Had Trish moved on already? Where did she meet this mystery woman? Surely there’s still a chance they are just friends. They weren’t holding hands. Mystery woman seemed to be dressed head-to-toe in a polyester blend from Glassons, and she had the longest acrylic nails Alexandra had ever seen. Still, she couldn’t ignore the signs pointing to the contrary—most convincingly, mystery woman’s septum piercing. Alexandra decided to write off the piercing as another case of straight people co-opting queer culture, but her fear could not be ignored when she saw the pair pick up matching heart key chains and attach them to each other's carabiners. Sick to her stomach, Alexandra ripped the beanie off her head and rushed straight to the tram stop. She would have to break it to her friends that despite her progress in the past months, a drink at Flippy’s was not something she had the resilience for.

Meanwhile, Dom and Anita had gone from the candle stall to shopping for homemade ashtrays to admiring the date scones from the local bakery’s pop-up. Dom was hoping—in true lesbian fashion— that the date would last for at least another four hours, especially since Green Refectory and Vinnie’s were just down the road.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise the market is about to close.” Anita was watching the stallholders carrying their tables back to the parking lot. “I completely forgot that I promised my friends I’d find them when I was done shopping.”

“And I completely forgot that I promised to help my friend pack up.” Clover was the last thing on Dom’s mind, but she wasn’t going to leave her stranded now. She knew this was the perfect time to ask Anita out, but before she could find the right words, Anita reached into her bag and handed her the most lesbian first-date gift of all: a mini loaf of rye sourdough in a brown paper bag. It was still warm when she handed it to her.

“I got it for you while you were in line for the scones.” This was Dom’s dream come true. “I was also wondering if you’d want to go to get coffee sometime?”

Anita had beat her to it. Dom could barely wrap her head around what was happening, let alone say yes. She wanted to say something witty and cute and perfect, but all she managed was a “YesI’dloveto” and a quick kiss on the cheek, before her face turned the same shade as the tomatoes at the organic fruit stand.

“Alright, I think that’s my cue to pack up.” Isla finally had a chance to put her scissors down after hours of nonstop haircutting; anyone who came to the market without a mullet (which, in fairness, wasn’t very many) had left with one beautifully cut by Isla.

“I’ll help you bring everything to the car.” Sophie saw this as her last chance. A trip to the car was all the time she needed to ask Isla out. The popularity of the girls’ stall meant that she didn’t even have a moment to make eye contact with Isla. Even then, Clover’s constant requests for help kept Sophie far away from her. She constantly had to help Clover take payments or cover her breaks. And she couldn’t shake the image of Clover’s face when she saw Isla cutting Sophie’s hair.

“I think that’s everything,” Sophie said. Isla and Sophie had loaded all the hairdressing equipment into the boot together; it was her last chance before Isla drove off. But it was at that moment that she realised why Clover had been nagging her this whole day. She decided all she could do was end their day with a hug and a quick “I’ll see you around”.

Sophie had no idea how she had missed it: Clover was in love with her.