Calling All Carabiner-Clad Lesbians—Keegan Stewart Wants To Take Your Photo

Keegan Stewart’s photo series ‘Carabiners’ documents the popularity of the queer-coded fashion accessory.
In Ginger’s, Henrietta Hudson, and Cubbyhole, on the streets of Park Slope, or maybe the stereotypical spots where you know city lesbians congregate, you can find posters with a QR code that read in bold red letters, “ATTENTION LESBIANS! DO YOU WEAR A CARABINER? LET ME TAKE YOUR PORTRAIT!”

For the carabiner-wearing lesbians who scan the QR code and fill out the Google form, you’ve just become friends with Keegan Stewart. The BFA student from Pennsylvania, studying photography at Parsons and Journalism+Design at Eugene Lang College of Liberal Arts, had a life-changing revelation when they enrolled in a course entitled “Queer Visuality” taught by the lens-based artist Pacifico Silano. The course reviewing documentary strategies within queer photography introduces students to the work of queer-identified photographic artists and requires students to create a work inspired by the course topics.
“Within gay spaces, everyone’s art builds off each other, and is in conversation with each other, which I think is really beautiful,” Stewart told GO. “I was pretty inspired by Hal Fischer’s Gay Semiotics project, and the idea of queer code and what that means today. Some people would argue that [queer code] doesn’t exist anymore, but I would argue that, especially in rural communities, it is a necessity and does still exist.”

It was in “Queer Visuality” that Stewart was inspired by journalistic works about the queer community, allowing it to influence their photography. They decided to make posters looking for carabiner-wearing lesbians, and within just a week, they had 46 responses. It began the ongoing photo documentary project, Carabiners, a working title, they explained.
“All of the projects I do, where it’s conceptual, documentary portraiture, I feel like a lot of it has to do with either gay code or the butch-femme dynamic, and that’s been super fun for me to explore. Being able to finally have people around me [who] are rooting for me and are excited about it has made it so much easier,” they said. “I think the most freeing moment for me was [when] I spent so long trying to convince myself and others that being gay wasn’t a personality trait, and it wasn’t a part of me like that. But I do think I’ve learned that there’s a difference between being gay in the sexuality sense and queer politically. I’m finally discovering that part of me, and very excited about that. So much of our work life, our social life, our personal life, that’s all affecting our writing and art.”
A huge part of this freeing moment, admitted Stewart, was coming out to their 85-year-old grandma for the first time. “After that moment, it’s like, ‘Ok, who cares?’ I’ll be a freak to these people no matter what, so I might as well just be who I want to be,” they said.

Besides Carabiner there’s also Butch (Self Portrait), a large grid of still lives of objects Stewart has either put on or in their body, that they explained makes them feel queer. In Butch, one can spot a nail clipper, a red box of Roland Round toothpicks, Old Spice deodorant, a neon ombre pink and purple dildo, and more queer-coded objects.
“The only thing I want to make clear is this is not me saying that every lesbian wears a carabiner,” Stewart said about their ongoing project, Carabiner. “This is just me honing in on one specific signifier, and this group of people choosing to decorate their body with a historic code. In no way am I saying this is what a lesbian looks like.”

Check out Stewart’s beautiful portfolio of works on their Instagram, fill out the Google Form if you’re a carabiner-wearing lesbian, and keep your eyes peeled at your local New York City lesbian bar. You might find one of Stewart’s signature posters hanging in the back.