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While I know some very sharp-dressing ladies, when it comes to gay clichés, lesbians aren’t renowned for their style — as in ‘good’ style. I don’t recall watching an episode of Lesbian Eye For The Straight Girl — even though some chicks are clearly in need of a comfortable-shoe-makeover.

As a tomboy who spends way too much time in front of the mirror, I find it interesting how my own style has changed over the years — for better and for worse.

When I came out I totally embraced the butch uniform — faux-hawk, Bonds tee, cargo pants and Docs. I was so happy to have discovered my attraction to ladies that I wore my gay on my sleeve — literally, in the form of a rainbow wristband — just so there was no mistaking which team I batted for.

After 21 years of suppressed sexuality, I had a lot of catching up to do — and the awkwardly glamorous chick on my driver’s licence wasn’t going to pull the broads at Girl Bar. Mum blamed my new look on the ‘arty’ crew at uni.

I’ve also noticed my style change subtly from relationship to relationship. I was definitely more boyish when I was with my first gf, partly because I was a baby dyke but also because she was a femme who dug butches.

She’d grope my muscles and swoon over my cluelessness when it came to things like facials or ‘emotions’.

The attention brought out my more stereotypical boy qualities. My style also shifted because she’d buy me clothes that she found sexy.

My next gf was more of a rock chick who was into other rock chicks. We would have been one of those identical lesbian couples who shared the same wardrobe, had she not been half my size.

While I haven’t worn a frock (costume parties don’t count) for nearly a decade, these days the butch/femme thing feels less important. Perhaps because I’m 30 and comfortable in my own skin, I’m less concerned with what people read into the way I look.

And maybe it’s because the queer scene has chilled out — as homosexuality gets more mainstream attention, the pigeonholes of gender and sexuality have become old school.

Admittedly, I still avoid super girly clothes because they make me feel like a drag queen – even though my current girlfriend regularly lets me know she’s a fan of cleavage.

By MONIQUE SCHAFTER