Naplees, 6th March
The figure of the femminiello has always been present where I’m from. Just outside my house, on the corner of the street, there was a femminiello called Gina. She sold cigarettes – that’s what people in the working-class areas of central Naples have always done to survive. She’s always been part of my family.
In those days, we were more concerned with what we were going to put on our plates in the evening than with how a person presented themselves to others. Historically, the femminiello was a poor, religious individual who embraced their femininity without wanting to transition. Many went by their christian names. Being very religious, they accepted their identity, all the while aware of the fact that they were outside of traditional ideals.
I, for example, like being in drag, and that’s why I’ve decided not to transition, so that I can change whenever I want. I want to be able to model and transform myself. Sometimes I want to shine, sometimes I want to be a housewife. In the same way, I love my masculine self. I feel non-binary, but given the current Neapolitan context, I more often present my masculin side.
Despite the fact that the femminiello is a highly respected figure here in Naples, because they have always had a social and cultural role, it’s not a utopia. The femminiello survives more than lives. They can’t simply exist like other people can, as if their identity was of no consequence. They have to adapt to external reality.
Jupiter
Jupiter was born and raised in Naples. They have two Instagram profiles that coexist in the image of their two identities: that of Jupiter, a drag performer on the Neapolitan ballroom scene, and that of Antonio, the name on their identity card. They told us about the feminielli, people with fluid gender identities who have been present in Naples for centuries.