The music festival Menopunkapalooza kicked off with the ceremonial application of an estrogen patch to the posterior of drummer Teresa Esguerra, because nothing says 'revolution' like a little transdermal hormone replacement. The event culminated in riot grrrl pioneers Calamity Jane tearing through Portland's Crystal Ballroom for their first show in 35 years, proving that menopause might slow you down, but it sure as hell won't stop you.
In between, 750 festivalgoers, a dozen pillars of the Pacific Northwest punk scene, and a team of medical professionals sang, laughed, and raged about a topic still taboo in 2026: women's sexual health during menopause and the promise of hormone replacement therapy (HRT). A three-woman band called Ménage àh Twats, dressed in glittery vagina costumes, parodied Lorde's Royals with lyrics about night sweats, hot flashes, and 'dry puss, moustache.' Because nothing says 'hormonal justice' like a good punk parody.
The festival was the brainchild of Alicia J Rose, 56, host of the podcast Menopunks and director of an upcoming documentary of the same name featuring Pat Benatar, Neko Case, Alice Bag, and Peaches. 'I didn't know anything about menopause, including when I was going through it,' says Bratmobile's Allison Wolfe in the trailer. 'It affected my confidence in my pussy,' confesses Peaches. The weekend's events were designed to fund and film the documentary, which Rose hopes to shop to film festivals this fall.
The movement draws on the riot grrrl spirit of the '90s, when bands like Bikini Kill and L7 empowered young women to talk about sexism and reproductive rights. Now, Gen X rockers are applying that same defiant energy to menopause. 'We were all around in riot grrrl and got to experience that wave of activism and community. That primed us for this. Now we're all in menopause and we're like, 'What the F? This sucks,'' said Calamity Jane's Gilly Ann Hanner. 'But we're also like, 'Well, no one's going to do it for us. We got to fight.''
Rose started dealing with crippling fatigue and hot flashes three years ago, to the point where she was nearly facing hip-replacement surgery and feared she couldn't perform anymore. 'It went from decently shitty to holy-fucking-hell-my-life-is-over kind of shitty,' she told the audience. Soon she discovered friends like Hanner and Jen Sbragia were also struggling with anxiety, brain fog, joint pain, and other horrors. Hanner, 59, was blindsided: 'I was doing kung fu. I was jogging. I was just in the best shape of my life. I was in two bands. I was working and just killing it.' But after a bout with Covid in 2021, she experienced 'a cascade, a waterfall' of symptoms that doctors struggled to diagnose.
HRT is considered the most effective treatment for menopause symptoms, but lingering misinformation from a flawed 2002 Women's Health Initiative study scared both doctors and patients away. The study linked HRT to increased cancer and cardiovascular risks, and despite subsequent research debunking its claims, hormone therapy use plummeted from nearly 30% in 2002 to less than 5% by 2020. 'Isn't that bad for you?' Hanner asked her nurse practitioner, who replied, 'Well, yeah, that was the story, but new evidence has come to light.' Hanner found HRT a gamechanger: her pain subsided, her stomach problems improved, and she had the energy to perform ferocious Calamity Jane anthems again.
Despite more than 1 million US women starting menopause each year, it remains understudied and barely taught in medical schools. Dr. Sara Kennedy, president of Planned Parenthood Columbia Willamette, noted she spent just one hour learning about perimenopause in medical school. 'One hour for a condition - not a condition, a time of life - that half the world will experience.' Her clinics now offer expanded training in menopause care. Progress is slowly coming: in November, the FDA rescinded its 2003 guidance on HRT and removed black-box warnings, and legislation has been introduced to expand insurance coverage and medical education.
The two-day festival was a joyful, defiant celebration. The crowd, largely women 'of a certain age' plus a smattering of younger fans, jumped around flashing the 'sign of the horns.' Sleater-Kinney's Corin Tucker cheered from the crowd. Bassist Mandy Morgan beamed through sets with Berzerk and Calamity Jane, and the room erupted when she covered Bikini Kill's 'Suck My Left One.' Rose, Hanner, and the Menopunks hope women everywhere will host their own events to get invigorated about menopause care. 'I think musicians see other people performing [again] and go, 'OK, I'm not too old,'' said Hanner. 'I mean, maybe I am, but who cares? I'm just going to play anyway.'