Lesbian Leo Astrology Profile

The Lesbian Leo: Who wouldn't want to be you?

Leo, you big old pussy cat. You've been going to Pilates. Madonna's sinewy arms have nothing on yours. And that dress... it must be Anthropologie, yes? I saw it on Mischa Barton the other day, but you make it look so much better.

How do you make a lioness purr? Stroke her ego, of course. And after all, who could resist? The other beasts of the jungle snap to attention or scurry off to the brush when you go on the prowl. It's just something about the way you hold yourself. Powerful, but with the grace of predator. Civilized, in that you'd prefer to keep your claws sheathed; but you also keep them well manicured, just in case. As a Leo, you're more interested in leading than stalking, so you kill 'em with your dazzling smile and warm affection. And most people return the favor. You were born to be worshipped, simply because you're better than everyone else. Smart, sexy, sophisticated. And -- Dare I say it?-- vainer than ScarJo in a recording booth.

You're the queen of your pride, and whomever fails to realize it will hear your dulcet tones screech "Off with their heads!" As I said, you'd rather be civilized, but it's a big-cat-eat-pussy world; what's a girl to do? You might claw your way to the top, but at least you can be awfully charming to the people you scratched on the way up. This, by the way, is the only reason anyone tolerates your antics. Trust me, you may think you have respect; but it's a kindly conspiracy amongst your friends to ensure you'll make it through the cheese course without flipping your lid. Because what are you really going to do if someone challenges you for superiority? Like the famous Queen of Hearts you may turn on the theatrics, but in the end everyone's head stays firmly attached to the neck.

Besides, you're so pathetic when you don't get the respect you feel you're owed, everyone feels bad. Leos are hearty by nature; I bet you don't need blush even if you do wear makeup. Your rosy glow rivals that of Kate Winslet, and not just when you've had a few too many. You're strong unless you feel you've been dissed by a lover or a friend. When that happens, you crawl into your den and nurse your imaginary wounds. Well, maybe that's taking it a bit far, because Leos can't stand to seclude themselves for too long. What I meant is that you'll go sulk in a corner where everyone can still see you and whine about how insulted you are, and hurt; and how you walked in on your parents having sex once and it really traumatized you; and how you haven't really gotten over Ellen's split with Anne Heche, so you thought everyone would be a little more respectful.

This ability to alternately charm and turn on the theatrics could get you far in politics. Think about it: you'd have a staff that's paid to adore you, constituents to charm and a bully pulpit from which to harass and harangue. But you would settle for being a teacher, because that too would provide you with a captive audience and a plausible reason to hear yourself talk. Some Leos make brilliant psychologists, because they are forever dispensing advice. Why not bill by the hour? Basically, any job where you get to show off your smarts, or beauty, or wit, is going to work out pretty well. If I worry about your job prospects, it's because you have a tenuous relationship with authority. Not every Leo can be the boss, so you might have to muzzle yourself once in a while.

A similar dynamic plays out in your love relationships. You like women who are beautiful and poised enough to be worthy of your attention, but mindful that you're even more worthy of theirs. You're a red hot lover, and despite your regal appetite you can even be faithful. A more cynical person might chalk this up to your desire to keep appearances going, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this once. You love being in love. There's just something about it that gets your blood pumping and makes you want to belt out "Come to My Window." Maybe it's the prospect of having an audience 24/7; you even get to perform in bed.

You see why everyone humors you: it really doesn't take much to expose you for the vulnerable kitten you are. So, like any insecure woman, you dress up. To paraphrase Henry James, those who who meet you say, "How she does dress!" Those who know you better say "How does she?" It doesn't matter if your worldly wealth consists of a piggy bank or a hedge fund, you always look like a trillion bucks. They say that money can't buy taste, and in your case it doesn't need to. Whatever else they may say, you have an exquisite eye for clothing and jewellery no matter what your style; you definitely know your LaCoste from your La Perla. If you aren't lighting the career world on fire, or even if you are, it's a sure bet you'll run up your credit card to pay for the finer things in life.

I could warn you to start living more frugally but you wouldn't take my advice anyway. When times get tough you know how to scrape by and nobody ever accused you of being a mooch. If anything, you're far more likely to lend money than you are to borrow it. Or just outright spend it in a display of regal good will. Which is another reason your friends like you: you really do know how to throw a party. There's nothing you love more than playing Jackie Kennedy to a crowd swanky guests; by the way, she was a Leo. You'll receive them in style with Dom Perignon and caviar or a quirky microbrew beer, whichever you like better, as long as it's too expensive. That's important, because where goes the beverages goes the eye candy. Your guest list is aways stocked with beautiful and interesting women whom you entertain with smooth jokes and smoother compliments. Nobody can deny, it's a damn good time. I know I said some harsh things about you just now, but can you put me on the guest list?