c/o June Morning
The first run of Morning's "transsexual in the Sunshine State" shirts quickly sold out.
The shirt’s design boasts a tongue-in-cheek depiction of a woman in a short skirt with the state of Florida precariously positioned between her legs.
If you’re transphobic of course, this t-shirt will probably drive you into a state of snowflake-induced rage, but for one Tampa-based artist, her design is one of the simplest ways to declare one’s existence in a bold, yet ridiculously playful way.
Multi-faceted artist June Morning recently launched these irreverently queer, hand-printed t-shirts not only as a symbolic pushback against Florida’s increasingly anti-LGBTQ legislature, but also as a means of fundraising for local trans folks.
While Morning is most commonly known as her late-night alter-ego Jubilee, who plays high-energy tunes at various parties across Tampa Bay, this recent t-shirt launch is just another rung on her perpetually-creative ladder.
Where the ladder is climbing to exactly, she doesn’t particularly know.
“I've been doing design in various capacities since I was a kid but for many years it hasn't really been where most of my creative energy has been going,” 27 year-old Morning tells Creative Loafing Tampa Bay. “So it's kind of been a fun surprise to see people really loving these shirts.”
She was a studio art major at the University of South Florida and always interested in printmaking, but only recently delved into the process with her recent merch launch.
Her first “transsexual in the Sunshine State” t-shirt drop launched in late-May and quickly sold out, appealing to both local queers and Florida expats living in other states.
Morning tells CL that her decision to use the word “transsexual” instead of the generally more acceptable word “transgender” is a one based on the reclamation of the antiquated term that has its roots in early 20th century medical research.
“In my own identification, ‘transsexual’ carries a flair, a certain je ne sais quoi, a little spice, and because of its ‘datedness’ in the official politically correct lexicon, still feels uncomfortable in the mouths of people who are uncomfortable with us,” she explains.
More shirts are in the process of being produced, and $25 pre-orders can be placed through a link on her @spanglebaby Instagram page. And for trans folks who may not be able to afford its suggested price, Morning is offering these shirts at a sliding scale.
“What it means to wear this shirt reflects our ability to simply exist as a trans person, in a way that’s playfully bold and irreverent.” June explains. “It gives us the feeling of being able to walk down the street in this kind of untouchable way—whatever someone might say to insult you, the shirt jumps the gun on it. And I want that feeling to be accessible.”
She says that it's understandable if cisgender people want to wear this shirt, too, although the possibility of it never crossed her mind when she first started printing them. Ultimately, they are still supporting mutual aid for trans folks in a way that Morning describes as "intentionally ambiguous solidarity."
Money made from her shirts are donated directly to trans people in need of basic survival funds, whether they’re local to Tampa Bay or beyond. June explains that she’ll be supporting trans people on an individual basis instead of donating t-shirt funds to local nonprofits or charities.
Besides helping her trans siblings with buying groceries or paying rent, she says that re-distributed funds can particularly help trans and gender non-comforming individuals move out of Florida entirely—a direct result of the state’s hostile political atmosphere, she says.
“The impetus that makes these shirts something that people like so much, is just how dire things are getting for trans people in Florida right now,” Morning explains. “And it really was this recent series of bills (SB 254 which limits gender-affirming care for both minors and adults and HB 1521 which has been dubbed the “anti-trans bathroom bill”) that really solidified that this was going to be a prioritized project of Ron DeSantis. He’s proving to his voters that he's doing something about what the conservative media deems as a ‘problem to be solved.’”
Morning’s recent t-shirt launch is just the latest facet of her efforts to create safe, gender-affirming spaces for Tampa Bay’s queer community. She’s been hosting intimate dance parties at her house for the past few years, and also collects donations from party-goers to be redistributed back into the local LGBTQ community.
c/o June Morning
Morning posing in her Tampa house dubbed "The Cozy Nook," where she hosts LGBTQ-friendly dance parties.
And perhaps these shirts are a tangible and prolific way for someone to feel the palpable energy that she typically creates in a strobe-lit party setting, describing her overall creative work as a “holistically whole practice”—with the “participatory art form” of her highly-curated events at the center of her artistry.
“I try to instill in people the feelings of love and power—or just the experience of being in touch with the wider, cosmic experience of being human,” June says. “As general as that is, everything I’m trying to do is always aimed towards helping my queer and trans siblings collectively access these feelings in ways that are actively denied to us in other facets of our lives.”
While some queer people are making the justifiable exodus from Florida, distancing themselves away from a state that makes it hard for them to exist, June has a stubborn determination to stay in her home state—the same determination that her recent t-shirt design expresses in such a playfully emphatic way.
A similar sentiment was expressed by MCC Tampa pastor and trans Florida native Jakob Hero-Shaw in a recent column for CL. “I hope that others will also choose to stay, to be visible, to be present, to keep living our lives, loving each other, and being ourselves,” Hero-Shaw writes. “I hate to think of all the joy and inspiration that might pack up and get out. It hurts my heart to think about all those folks who are going to be left behind.”
In light of all of the Sunshine State’s political hostility, June has found an absurd sense of pride buried within this sense of sheer resilience.
“For the first time in my life, I kind of cruelly and ironically am truly feeling in love with and desiring to claim being from Florida,” June says with a stifled giggle. “If you’re going to rock a shirt about being trans, now is really the time.”
