Halloween Costumes, and Costumes for Life
I just got back from a weekend (well, 16 hours) visiting one of my high school friends in Minneapolis. (I know you read this blog, so hi!) I drove up with one of my roommates on Saturday, arriving around 5:30PM, and left this afternoon at about quarter to one. We had a lot of fun – it was really great to see my friend’s house, spend a little bit of time (far too little!) with her son, and meet some of her friends at a Halloween party she and her husband were hosting. (I was undead – I’ll post pictures when I have some better ones…the ones from my camera weren’t great.)
Inadvertently, the party made me think more broadly about the idea of wearing costumes in our every-day life. First, because apparently queer people are really rare in Minnesota.
I had been socializing fine with everyone at the party, which was nice since it was the first time I was meeting most of them. And, other than half an hour or so where I took a quick nap in the basement, I stayed social the entire night. I worried briefly about passing (and about whether my costume would look good) but quickly forgot about both issues as people started getting there, and wasn’t given an odd look by anyone. As the party was winding down, though, I was sitting in the living room chatting with some of the people I’d met that evening. We were joking about my roommate, who was in the kitchen playing beer pong, clearly hitting on someone who was amused, and taking the attention in good humor, but also uninterested.
I said something along the lines of, “I’m a supportive roommate! I definitely want him to be successful in flirting with women. Not with me, but with other women.”
One of the other women at the party said, laughingly, “Why not with you?”
I thought quickly, and figured honesty was the best policy. “I’m not so much into men.” Pause. “I’m gay.”
I was expecting the reaction to be an amused, “Oh, OK,” and that the conversation would go on. Instead, what happened felt like in a movie where someone says something during a lull in the conversation that is so outlandish that everyone else stops what they’re doing to listen, the piano in the background slowly trails off, and immediate and intense focus is given to the speaker. The other jaws in the room dropped, so to speak.
Then there was the expected, “Oh, OK,” and the conversation moved on to something else. But it was very much a foreign experience to me. I’ve certainly been in groups where I wasn’t out and chose to out myself (either as a lesbian or as trans) but this was the most shock I’ve received. (Perhaps everyone in the past has just been better at hiding it 
)
The experience did reassure me that, yes, I was probably passing. But it also reinforced my feeling of being something of an outsider in some of my social circles. Not so much because no one else at the party was queer, but because the response to me coming out was so awkward.
Likewise, it made me think about the ‘costume’ of passing – as straight, as a cis woman, as “normal.” And I’m not sure if I enjoyed the experience because it was unique – I was traveling among the natives and they assumes I was one of them, and I don’t have a lot of places right now where I’m not out – or disliked it because I don’t want to have to be in situations where I need to think about whether or not I’m passing, where I need to think about how (or if) to explain myself.
It’s a costume that, once off, I can’t put back on. Once I outed myself, even though I wasn’t treated negatively or (so far as I could tell) at all differently, there was no possibility of again being viewed as “normal.”
The party also made me think about something else that may or may not be viewed as costuming, and about Bond’s post on binders vs padded bras and what constituted “real” when it comes to self-presentation (and especially gendered presentation) . One of the women at the party had undergone breast augmentation surgery, a very different type of changing one’s appearance and perception by others. I’m not going to pretend I’ve never seen anyone with breast implants, but I don’t know that I have – it’s possible, but I have no way to tell. And I’ve definitely never met anyone who was open about having received them.
It made me think about my own feelings of boobicular inadequacy, and whether I’d ever seriously consider something like augmentation. (In response to your question, dear reader, boobicular is totally a word. It means “of or pertaining to the breasts.”)
I like my breasts a lot. They’re a helluva lot nicer than not having any, and they’re significant enough to be useful in filling out tops. (At least, with a significant push-up they are.) At the same time, many of my friends are, shall we say, well-endowed. And gorgeous. I’m feeling better about my appearance, but it is sometimes difficult to feel like the ugly duckling, even though I know no one else is viewing me that way.
Likewise, I know that being on hormones can mimic real puberty, where breast development can take years to finalize. According to some quick-and-dirty Googling, transsexual women go through the same Tanner stages as cissexual women, and (supposedly) I should experience the same breast growth as “my closest female relatives.” But that isn’t very helpful in telling me whether I’m at Stage IV, and can hope for some additional growth, or Stage V and am all boobed out. This also plays a lot into the feelings of regret I’ve been having recently, since one thing that everyone does agree on is starting hormones before puberty ends (or, ideally, before it begins!) allows for the most cissexual-like body development.
Getting back to the woman at the party who had received augmentation, it brought the question more seriously to my mind. Before I’d consider anything, I would talk to my doctor about whether or not I can realistically expect any more growth on my own, but assuming he said no…would I want breast implants?
The short answer, right now, is yes. I would like larger breasts and, if a lot of caveats can be satisfied (that my doctor tells me I shouldn’t expect any more growth on my own, that I’m convinced the implants are safe, that I’m convinced I can pay for them, that I’m convinced I’ll retain sensation and the ability to receive pleasure, that I’m convinced they won’t feel or ridiculous or crazy fake) I think I’d be willing to get implants.
Getting back to the idea of costumes, though, I can’t help but feel this feeding into my own cultural training that breast implants (and, y’know, trans women in general) are fake, are trickery, are trying to ‘fool’ everyone with their artificial nature.
As anyone out there considered implants? Whether or not you have, what are your thoughts on all this?
coming out, mundane, queer, trans, transitioning
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appearance, breasts, presentation, surgery, transitioning
Themocracy
From what I’ve read the Breast Cancer rate among those with and those without implants is about the same.
I think implants are a waste of money and can look pretty bad (though this is from the male(?) point of view which isn’t your “target audience”), and I’ve heard can look obvious.
I suppose if you want a worst case scenario, you could always pop on VH1 so you know what they may look like.
I do hope you feel more comfortable reading this post than I have writing it.
Haha, thanks for the comment, Key. No worries about discomfort of posting.
Look and feel are a a big concern of mine, and why I’m still still very ambivalent. The woman I saw at the party certainly looked good, but from what my friend said, they don’t feel all that real…
Well, on the one hand, I think that, when it comes to how we present our bodies, there is no such thing as “real” or “true” or even “more real” or “more true.” Like all of us you get what you get to work with, and it’s your absolute right to work with it, to make it say what you want it to say. There is nothing false or deceptive about breast implants or any other form body modification, not anymore than my crystal-clear view of my laptop screen is fake because I’m seeing it through glasses. Humans are tool-makers. That we consider some uses of technology perfectly “natural” and authentic and others fake and fraudulent is very hypocritical thing, one charged with the politics of power and oppression.
That said, I just want to mention — since you list feeling unattractive as a primary concern here — that beautiful breasts come in many shapes and sizes, and that smaller breasts can be just as lovely, sexy and feminine as larger breasts. There is nothing wrong with breast augmentation; there’s also nothing wrong with smaller breasts. I wouldn’t want you to have potentially dangerous surgery just because you thought, wrongly, that you needed it to be attractive.
Bond,
I think you bring up a really important point, so thank you for your comment. You’re definitely correct – if I’m feeling unattractive or like my breasts are disproportionate to my body, it may ultimately be more fulfilling (and certainly less expensive) to break out of my mental rut that “bigger breasts = more attractive” than to get implants.
That said, it’s not simply “culture” that’s telling me my breasts are too small, it’s fashion as well. I would like to not have the amount of loose fabric bunching around my chest that I currently do, and bigger breasts would solve that. (Although, I suppose learning to sew and resize my clothing would, too!)
Either way, this isn’t a decision I’ll be making anytime soon. I still keep my fingers crossed about another growth spurt, since I haven’t been on estrogen as long as a normal puberty would last. But thank you again for reminding me that a mental shift is just as worthwhile, and perhaps in line with a better outlook on beauty, than going under the knife.
OK, lots of reactions to this. I love breasts, love love love ‘em, in all shapes and sizes from A to F, or beyond. I find the idea of implants gross, frankly. I have never touched breasts with implants in them before but I’ve heard they’re hard and not life-like. In my limited experience they also seem to not look natural. The number one porn deal-breaker for me (as in, “not turning me on, so i’m turning it off) is big fake tits.
Also, having big breasts isn’t all sunshine and lollipops. You get leered at even more often by creepy men, people of all genders will feel they have the right to comment on your chest, and big heavy breasts contribute to back pain and/or hunched/curved backs. Maybe your breasts will grow, and if not maybe you will learn to love them because they are 100% yours and as I am fond of telling you, you are a beautiful woman.
I would love to talk about this further, because I know I have many prejudices and preconceived notions about breast implants that maybe aren’t accurate.
I am going through the opposite breast problem right now, hating the attention my breasts bring me and wishing they were smaller. I’ve taken to wearing large sweatshirts and sweaters to cover them up and am seriously considering binding. My only hesitation is the implications for my gender identity, and my own discomfort at moving forward with this trans stuff that I am not positive is who I am. Oy. Just rambled there, didn’t I?
No such thing as rambling. Just thinking out loud.
I think the first thing I’d need to research, before looking at anything else, is what implant sizes are possible and how guaranteed hitting your a size goal is. Because, you’re right – big boobs aren’t without their downsides. If the options are staying as I am or going up three cup sizes, I won’t even consider implants. Going up a single cup size, on the other hand…
More broadly, I do think there is value in attempting to gain a more positive view or connection with the body I already have. Transitioning has brought up a lot of body image issues, both positive and negative, and working through the difficult ones is very much of value.
That said, I do want to echo something Bond said above, about the nature of our “real” bodies. I’m already putting artificial hormones into my body to trick it into countering its naturally-produced hormones. I’ve spent hours receiving laser hair removal to undo hair growth that the hormones would never have touched – are my smooth arms not 100% mine? (Even without laser removal, if a woman or a man shaves, is the smooth skin not “theirs”?) At the very dramatic end of the scale, it’s not out of the question that I someday will undergo surgery to construct a vagina that, while not “fake,” is certainly not natural. On the very opposite end (from the dramatic to the mundane), I’ve dyed my hair.
Which of these cross the line from real to fake? How can you tell?
Again, I think you and Bond are both correct that I need to work on a more positive body image, regardless of whether or not I really look into breast implants. But I think it’s difficult to draw the line between our “real” self and what we construct ourselves to be.
Switching gears slightly, I give you permission to throw implications out the window. Buy a binder! Order one online. Splurge and treat yourself to something that doesn’t need to mean anything beyond, “I’m conducting an experiment to see what feels right.”
I remember making a huge deal out of shaving my legs (my crazy, ridiculously hairy legs). Ultimately, no one else cared in the slightest, and I didn’t need to do it again (even though it felt good and right, so I did). Likewise, spending a bit of money on a binder and wearing it for an hour doesn’t mean you are obligated to ever wear it again, or that you have to wear it in public, or that you’re trans, or that you have to transition.
At the very worst, it’ll mean you discover you don’t actually want to wear a binder, and you’re out $50. (Or whatever – I have no clue how much binders cost.)
I lived in SoCal for 8 years, so I’m practically an expert on breast implants. It seems like there’s a lot of variation as far as looks are concerned, and it may depend on the skill of the doctor you use. It seems like the really unattractive ones are either placed strangely (like really high on your chest, looking like freakish flotation devices) or are too large for your build. I had a friend who looked into getting them, and she spoke to three different doctors. The one who seemed the best talked to her frankly about size and placement, and rcommended going down a size from what my friend was considering. So as far as the look is concerned, I would ask to see previous work they’ve done, and ask some very direct questions about that.
As far as the feel is concerned, I’ve heard negative things too, but couldn’t tell you first-hand.
I’m a huge comparative shopper, so I’d definitely do my research before diving into anything. But thank you for your friend’s experiences!
And yeah, feeling (not to mention my own sensations) are a big concern of mine. I’d imagine doing research on the feeling of implants might be slightly awkward. Any volunteers?
Oh, such an interesting post.
As a woman I guess I just don’t think much about my own breasts, which are not big or small. Breasts symbolize femininity. The very use of them is to nourish. They are the most apparent detail that a person is female, so perhaps that is why they are such a hot topic when discussing gender issues. Standing alone, in and of themselves, breasts really don’t enable you to be any more or less of a female. Sexually, my husband could play with them all day long and it wouldn’t do a thing for me (other than the pleasure I might get from watching him enjoy it).
My BFF has always had “breast issues”. We’ve been close for 17 years, so the topic has come up many, many times. Her breasts are huge.
She wears a DD (or bigger sometimes). In our teen years
she always had a really hard time finding clothes that
hung and draped the way they were supposed to. Now that
we’re in our 30′s it’s a gravity issue. In her own
words she would love to have a tuck and reduction, “so the
girls can stand up and say hello!” She is single too, so
she has massive concerns about how her body appears naked.
I can tell her a million times how beautiful she is but it doesnt matter. Her large breasts make her feel fat.
So, having large breast doesnt really mean you feel sexy, I guess.
Conversely, without sounding all, “You GO GIRL!” I think that
breast size is irrelevant. To me, the sexist thing about a
woman is confidence. If you have small or large breasts, the
WAY that you own your body and move around the world is what
matters. My BFF was a model and is really a beautiful woman but has a really hard time meeting men and I think a lot
of that has to do with the insecurity she radiates.
I have two sisters that are A cup and they work it. They
don’t cover up with big sweaters but just find clothes that
hang well on a flatter chest. That is not to say that they
don’t have other body image issues, we all do. It’s just to say that maybe if you feel attractive and sexy on the inside some of that is more likely come through to the outside? I
hope that doesn’t sound too selfhelp bookish!
loves
cece
Thanks for the comment, Cece!
I agree completely that my own self-image will do more for my feeling sexy or feminine than implants would, and that breasts are necessary to be female or to be feminine. That said, I can’t help but associate my own breasts with my own femininity, because both are very much linked with going on hormones. (Not that all women can’t have issues with their breasts and their femininity.)
I’d like my own body image to improve anyway, but I’d definitely want to be in a different headspace before seriously considering implants.