DJ Sam Ronson is a world-wide ambassador for 'comfort dressing'.

DJ Sam Ronson is a passionate advocate for 'comfort dressing'. Photo: Chris Weeks

It's a close-run thing with the liberty of never having to shave my legs or pretend to listen to mansplaining, but I've come to the momentous conclusion that my hands-down favourite thing about being gay is the world-weary smugness of being in a minority group. It's a balm for the angst-ridden white middle-class woman's bleeding leftist heart to know that, while she is but a cog in the oppressive capitalist machine, there is always the Get Out of Jail card of being a sexual deviant. Sure, I went to a private school with Paul Keating's daughters, won a $60,000 scholarship to design college* and secured a a plum posting at DFAT in Geneva* but I like women and therefore I am MARGINALISED. The best part of this scenario is when I go to inner west cocktail parties and everyone has to check their privilege in a bowl at the door for a little potluck scramble at the end of the night I get to swan on by, holding fast to my little carte blanche. Gay lady coming through.

Imagine my shock, then, to receive the news this week The Internet that, in fact, I TOO HAVE PRIVILEGE. Andrew Bolt was right. It's political correctness gone mad. What kind of a country do we live in when you can't publicly vilify someone on the basis of their race and LESBIANS have to apologise for their perks in a listicle. #notinmyname #marchinmardigras

Are you there God? It's me, Gaymy, and I'm sorry.

So here they are: things lesbian girls get away with that straight girls can't. 

Comfort factor
Nothing says lesbian (or German tourist) like a comfortable pair of shorts, Birkenstocks and a baseball cap with your favourite 'Hirsute is Beaut' singlet, bra optional. Big night out or a special occasion? Better bust out the good jeans and a collared shirt. Being gay means never having to say you're sorry for wearing an Adidas tracksuit on a first date.

Wingwomyn
Men find it legitimately intriguing and thrilling to be able to talk to a woman openly about sex and it's adorable that they think you're telling them all the deepest darkest secrets of womankind when you draw a map of the female anatomy and explain where the clitoris is. You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make him think. Straight girls are always jealous of the lesbian wingwomyn (no single PART of me is a man) and want to know how to emulate that level of ease with a guy. My secret? I really don't give a sh---. It drives them wild

The Rampage
Rampant tramping around is definitely a gay lady privilege and I'm sorry not sorry that when straight women get around they're dirty names but when we do it it's awesome. I once spent six months in a contest with several other lesbians trying to sleep with as many women as possible. It was unofficially known as The Rampage, and I did not win. An important disclaimer: dykes are not very good at Rampaging, as a rule, because You Can't Sleep With Someone Unless You Have Feelings For Them And Once You Do It's Love And You Move In Together Immediately And Rescue a Cat.  

Show us ya tits
Some of the most sexist remarks I have ever heard  have been uttered by card-carrying muff-divers who feel, as same-sex-attracted women, that it's their Sapphic right to cop a look at the arse on that one, I'd go her but only from behind, am I right?! It's certainly a privilege unique to lesbians andspermatogenitors, but one that might best be revoked.

Gold Star Feminism
There has been a schism since time immemorial (i.e. before I was born) between lesbian feminists and feminists who are attracted to and fraternise with men. There is something unassailable about your commitment to overthrowing the patriarchy and systems of oppression when you maintain an XY excision zone around your nether regions.

Nude parade
Every March, even and especially when it's raining we take most of our clothes off and dance down Oxford Street, with the special blessings of Fred Nile. What have the Christian Democrats done for YOU lately?

Are you still talking?
The wonderful thing about being disinterested in men as a sexual prospect removes any incentive to stand and listen to them bore you with another round of mansplaining or their latest achievement in the realms of sportsball and Testosterone. I estimate I have gained an extra four years of life by simply dropping a death stare and wandering off.  

Or are you just happy to see me
Discretion in my pants is the better part of valor. 

*May not accord with actual events