The Thang Blog » clothing

“Transgender clothing”?

Rebecca — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 01:06:16 +0000

The photo from both articles

I don’t expect much from the New York Daily News, but still… They’re reporting that “The Swedish clothing brand ACNE is launching a new collection aimed at transgender consumers.” Except the NY Daily News is reporting on a Vogue UK story, which actually says, “ACNE has joined forces with Candymagazine to launch a new collection targeted at transvestites and cross-dressers.” (Emphasis added.)

Being trans is not (necessarily) the same thing as being a transvestite or cross-dresser!

But my frustrations are a little deeper than that.

ACNE’s creative director said, “This collection is a playful collaboration and a celebration of diversity. It touches on ideas I have always played with when designing for Acne, the tension between male and female and what happens when you shift things around a bit. This project has been so much fun.” See, I think that’s awesome. Showing that “women’s” clothing or “men’s” clothing are arbitrary lines and not inherent or universal constants. But both articles imply that the clothing itself is aimed at fringe groups, and that no mainstream or ‘normal’ person would be interested in them.

And, of course, another article has this choice quote:

“I didn’t want this to be ‘unisex,’ in fact, I wanted exactly the opposite. I wanted to create a bit of gender confusion. Instead of the usual unisex statement ‘for men and women,’ I want people to ask: ‘is this for men, or women?’ Well, this is for all the many types of men and women worldwide in the 21st century. It’s tranny shirts for everybody, something relevant and open-minded.” (Emphasis added)

One step forward, one step back? Again, putting forth androgynous clothing as a valid fashion choice is awesome. But it becomes a problem when “tranny” choices are presented to mean that any transgression of gender roles or binaries is a merging of gender roles and binaries. Being trans (or a transvestite, or a cross-dresser) can mean that an individual is inherently rejecting a binary gender choice.

Using myself as an example I present myself and am usually perceived as a cis woman. I’m – consciously, deliberately – making a choice to conform to a binary notion of gender. But I don’t have to be. I could go for a more androgynous look, and that wouldn’t make me any more or less trans.

It seems like Acne, and the articles covering the story, are pushing the sensationalist angle rather than celebrating a legitimately interesting decision to market androgynous clothing. Which is a shame, really, because the clothing itself looks interesting.

Questions on being trans, from highschoolers (pt 1?)

Rebecca — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 02:37:32 +0000

I’m speaking this Friday to a high school GSA in my neighborhood. One of the students at the class I spoke to in October is leading a group at the high school, and they were interested in having a trans speaker come.

She just sent over a list of questions the students had compiled, and I figured I’d answer some of them here, as a way to think about them before Friday. I think I’m gonna single out the easy questions in this post, and may cover some of the more in-depth ones later… It’s interesting to see what issues and topics high school students think are worth asking about.

What restroom do you use?

I use whatever bathroom fits with how I’m presenting. For over a year, now, that’s been the womens room. Before that, for about a two year period, it was either the mens room or the womens room, depending primarily on what I was wearing and how I was thinking about myself. Before that, it was the mens room.

Are you attracted to men or women now? How is sex different as a woman than as a man?

Still attracted to women! And the protected posts are mostly about how sex has changed over the course of the transition (see the ‘About Me’ link at the top for info on getting the password.)

Did you get your documentation changed (drivers license, etc)? How did you do it?

Yup! Got my name legally changed – wrote about it here and here. I should get my birth certificate changed one of these days… But I can’t get the gender on my birth certificate changed without having surgery.

What do you wear when you go swimming?

A swimsuit. Specifically, a two-piece with a bikini bottom covered by semi-loose trunks, so that I don’t really worry about ‘showing.’

Is it hard to find clothes/shoes that fit properly? Do you find girls shoes hard to wear?

Honestly, probably not any harder than it is for any other woman. I do have massive body issues, but I’m realizing that’s because all women (OK, maybe almost all women) do, not because there’s something wrong with me. For example, I went shopping yesterday with a friend (hi, J!). It sucked that the dress I really liked at Anthropologie would only ever fit me if I removed my bottom ribs, regardless of how much weight I might loose, but it was awesome that I was able to find kick-ass skinny jeans at Anne Taylor Loft. (And boots to match at DSW). They make my legs and ass look hot.

I do have some problems finding shoes, since size ten is a bit bigger than most women, but it’s not impossible. I’ve had luck with being patient, and am told Nordstrom Rack has great stuff. (I still need to check it out.) Heels definitely take getting used to, and I’m already pretty tall (5’10″) so I’m not always sure I want to be taller. But a tall friend of mine – she’s over six feet – said she loves embracing her height by wearing heels. Sure enough, it’s fun to rock out a hot outfit with heels high enough to know that everyone will be looking at you, and you’ll be looking over them.

I was a boy, I was a girl

Rebecca — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 02:24:14 +0000

I was a boy, growing up.

At least, people saw me that way: I had a boy’s name, boy’s clothing, wore swimming trunks to the pool or the beach, had a Bar Mitzvah (however grudgingly), changed in the boys’ locker room before gym, wore a suit and tie to important family occasions, participated in Indian Guides (however briefly), had my hair in a buzz cut every summer for years, played on the boys’ teams after school, lived in the boys’ section of the dorm at college, was never taught how to put on makeup…

Looking through old photo albums, or at the pictures on the walls at my parents’ houses, it’s clear – boy, boy, boy.

I wanted a girl’s name, girl’s clothing, a girl’s swimming suit, a Bat Mitzvah (well, maybe not), to change in the girls’ locker room before gym, to wear skirts and dresses to important family occasions, participate in Indian Princesses, wear my hair long and flowing, play on the girls’ teams after school, live in the girls’ section of the dorm at college, know how to put on makeup from a lifetime of experience …

I’m not sure how to reconcile these lists. To own up to my history outs me as trans and brings up a long stretch – the first twenty or so years of my life – that’s at odds with how I see myself now. When I talk with people about Judaism, about my struggling relationship with it, do I acknowledge my Bar Mitzvah and out myself as trans, or do I say I had a Bat Mitzvah and rewrite part of life? When a coworker talks about buying suits or ties, do I chime in with memories of my experiences, or do I stay silent?

Do I ask my parents to take down pictures of the first two decades of my life? To wipe clean my life before 22 or 23? To cover the mirrors which reflect the parts of myself I don’t want to remember, don’t want to see?

I want to catch up to the friends around me who can effortlessly apply eyeliner while rushing to get ready for a night out. Who can dress themselves with confidence that they won’t look like a fool.

I want to stop receiving mail (male) addressed to someone who no longer exists.

A Loss of Privilege, or a Gain?

Rebecca — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 05:13:45 +0000

Privilege (Noun)

a right, immunity, or benefit enjoyed only by a person beyond the advantages of most: the privileges of the very rich.
an advantage or source of pleasure granted to a person: It’s my privilege to be here.

Those certainly aren’t the only definitions of ‘privilege’ (see where I stole them from for a few more examples) but they’re the ones I’ve been thinking about lately.

The first is perhaps the most commonly used: “White privilege.” “Cis privilege.” “Male privilege.” recursiveparadox has a great post on that type of privilege, For the Uninformed: Privilege, Perspective, and the Little Things That Jab. She sheds light on how lack of privilege can become “this constant stream, this wearing away of patience, defense and sanity.”

I’ve been thinking about that second definition of privilege: “It’s been a privilege meeting you.” “Do you think putting a TV in her room is too big of a privilege?” “Pick up your toys or you lose dessert privileges.”

That definition – of a source of pleasure – has flipped my perspective around a little bit, and made me all the more aware of the loss of my male privilege (using the first definition).

Take going out dancing. I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m sick and tired of going to bars where it’s assumed I’m straight, and want to dance with men. On the same page, my dislike of Wrigleyville, Chicago’s frat row, has grown from simply not liking loud bars in general to specifically feeling massively othered by the culture and atmosphere. (If anyone in Chicago wants to go to some lesbian bars with me, please speak up!) It’s easy to think of this as an example of straight privilege: the assumption is that everyone is straight, and so the majority of the bars cater to said clientele.

But flip that around: It would be a privilege, a pleasure, to go to a bar where the assumptions about who I’d like to dance with matched who I’d actually like to dance with.

On a slightly more humorous note, it is a privilege to be able to pee standing up. I was at an outdoor event this past weekend, and only hesitated slightly before deciding to use the porta potty. Peeing standing up rocks, and it’s what my body is designed to do. It’s obnoxious and silly to sit to pee in public restrooms because I worry someone will see me standing to pee in the womens’ bathroom.

For a third example, take clothing. Yes, there is some very significant male privilege (first definition) in the expectations put on men and women when it comes to clothing and appearance. But I’d also say women have the privilege (second definition) of being able to dress either ‘boyishly,’ ripped shorts and an old t-shirt while biking, or ‘girlishly,’ makeup, heels, and a dress while going out. Now, that may simply be my (very, very, very) biased impression of having been denied the ability to put on heels and a skirt for so long, but I think it is a larger social construct that discourages men from dressing up beyond a certain point. For example, I’ve gone to work much more formally since transitioning – but still well within the acceptable range for women – than I could have as a man. I’d say, at least in younger or more liberal circles, women have a wider range of acceptable clothing options, and that’s been a privilege to discover.

I don’t know that thinking of privilege in this mirror or flipped fashion is useful beyond an interesting difference in perspective. But I’ve been trying to think about my discoveries of privilege in the positive – figuring out what bars it would be a privilege to go to, or what clothing I’d feel privileged to wear – rather than stand sadly on the ship of womanhood waving goodbye to the more traditionally-viewed male privilege.

There are no stupid questions?

Rebecca — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 04:28:22 +0000

For once, this is about my stupid questions, rather than those I’ve been asked by others. I’ve been slowly-but-surely assembling a wardrobe, and have compiled a list of the top “I’m embarrassed to ask the cis women in my life” questions for your reading pleasure:

Where does one purchase leggings? I have some dresses I’d conceivably wear to work or more casually, but don’t quite feel comfortable without something covering at least part of my legs. This feels like it should be a ‘duh’ type item, but I’m obviously not looking for the right thing since I can’t seem to find ‘em…

What’s the deal with layering tops? Why would I possibly want to wear two t-shirts if the function of the t-shirt underneath is only to peek out the bottom for an inch?

How do I know what bras are appropriate for what tops? As a recent example, I got a nice summery dress with spaghetti straps. Is it uncouth to have my bra straps showing? Is it a fashion faux pas to have the corners of the bra itself peeking around the edge of the dress by my armpits when I move?

Speaking of bras, how worried should I be if people can see the tops of the cups through a top? Obviously it’s no big secret I’m wearing a bra, but do I need to find bra/top combinations to smoothly move from the top of the bra cups to my skin?

How worried should I be about pants/skirts being tight in the crotch? I’m certainly not going out in a bikini anytime soon, but I feel awkward staring at women’s crotches trying to get an idea of what an acceptable amount of crotch-bulge is… As I said, I’m not wearing super-tight clothing to begin with, but I’m also not sure if I’m being overly paranoid or not paranoid enough…

Speaking of crotches, what kind of undies do other pre/non-op trans women like? I’ve been using some colored men’s underwear (so it doesn’t scream “men’s underwear…”) since the women’s I’ve tried hasn’t fit horribly well. Any thoughts or suggestions?

Last-but-not-least, any other general suggestions or words of advice on clothing? Things people have learned?

Looking down from a great height

Rebecca — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 06:40:32 +0000

I just got back from the fundraiser I was volunteering at tonight, and had an experience I wanted to share.

Throughout the evening, and particularly later in the evening as I was more and more tired and my mental filter dropped, I found myself looking down and being somewhat awestruck at the sight: Boobs (my boobs!) in a dress (my dress!) framed by hairless arms topped with painted nails (my arms and nails!) leading down to smooth legs (my legs!) ending in heels (my heels!) tipped with painted toes (my toes!).

This was the most femininely I’ve dressed up since starting to transition, and even though I was exhausted from helping out rather than having fun, I sort of couldn’t get over the experience.

The getting-together of the outfit was still rather stressful (my roommate can attest to that) and the dress I was planning to wear definitely looked better in the dressing room and did not, in fact, fit me. But I got my nails done today, and managed to get my hair together in such a way that wasn’t unacceptable, and I looked pretty. So there.

(As a postscript, I do have to admit I feel something like a bad feminist after tonight. On the way to the event, someone creepy man at a crosswalk commented on how he liked my legs, and I of course was disgusted. But also secretly more than a little flattered. Likewise for the guys who checked me out on the street.)

Shopping!

Rebecca — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 03:00:45 +0000

I went out with a friend today to get some more shopping done (and picked up some good basics, more tank tops and simple tops) and have been thinking about how the transition has affected seemingly simple things like buying clothing.

Before I transitioned, I really disliked shopping. I never really thought about why – boys aren’t ‘supposed’ to like shopping, so it was never really something I needed to justify. Likewise, it’s not unusual for boys to dislike wearing suits and ties, so my dislike of that also wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary.

In retrospect, it seems really obvious that liking my body more and liking the clothing I’m wearing more would make me enjoy shopping more. I had just never thought about it – the idea of transitioning, of having boobs and a butt, of really presenting myself to the world as a woman – and so never seriously thought about the idea of shopping for clothing outside of fantasy.

In some ways, it can’t live up to any of the absurd expectations I might have had: i haven’t had any magical transformation in the night, so I’m still working on my own body issues. Likewise, I haven’t magically gained the knowledge of twenty-plus years of being raised as a girl and living as a woman, so I’m still feeling rather awkward about shopping, and having to work on gaining confidence in picking things out.

But, in much more positive ways, there’s something amazing about having a fantasy even come close to actually happening.

Random thoughts

Rebecca — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 04:54:22 +0000

Is there actually a lack of an online FTM trans community, or have I missed it simply because I haven’t been looking for it?

I would like to be able to not look at every other woman and judge myself based on her (or, at least, judge myself and find that I sometimes can measure up…) I realize this isn’t unique to trans women, but I have a suspicion most cisgender women worry about whether or not their pee sounds right in the bathroom…

Someone at the Workshop today mentioned that someone else we’d been working with this past week was trans, and she wasn’t sure if she should say anything or not. I’m glad she did, because on the ride home I realized how powerful it is to have someone in my life – even if only tangentially – who is A) trans, B) successful in their chosen field, and C) passing. So thanks, you-know-who-you-are!

I still need to buy more clothing.

-R

Fashion(show)able

Rebecca — Sat, 31 Jan 2009 06:55:54 +0000

Edit, 4/8/09 – For whatever reason, this post has attracted tons of spam posts – maybe 20-30 a day – so I am disabling comments on this post (and only this post). If you really need to reach me about this specific post, email me at blog [at] fridaythang [dot] com. Otherwise, comment on a different post.

I knocked on my roommate’s door. “Can I come in?”

“What’s up?”

“Just wanted outfit input.”

“One sec. Lemme grab my robe.”

MG was in town for her birthday, and we were all meeting her at a nearby restaurant. She’d specified in the Facebook invite to be ‘dressy,’ especially for the girls.

I don’t exactly have many ‘dressy’ options. Most of the unreasonable amount of money I’ve spent on clothing in the last few months has gone to either comfy, every-day stuff, or things appropriate to wear to work. Neither category would satisfy MG’s request for ‘dressy.’

“So do you think I’ll get in trouble if I wear this?” I had on black pants and a black sweatshirt under lose gray top for which I don’t have the vocabulary.

My roommate, fresh out of the shower and in a red robe, said”I like it,” and my heart sank a little.

“That good, huh?”

“No, I mean, I like it a lot, but it’s not exactly ‘dressy’.”

I sighed. “Yeah.” I tried something else, which was deemed “even more casual than the other outfit.” At last, t I put on black pants from Old Navy and a blue-and-white striped almost-dress top, the same thing I’d worn for New Years. I yelled through the closed door, “I need to tell you something, and then I need you to kill me.”

She paused, and said, “Ok…”

“I already wore this outfit!” I whined as best I could, channelling my all my 24-going-on-13 energy, and she laughed.

Dinner was actually fun, although getting there was rather cold. (Ahh, Chicago. As I’m writing this, my temperature monitor says it’s eight degrees out.) I was included in the “ladies” comments by the waitress and felt mostly good about everything.

Flash forward a few hours. We made it back to the apartment and were discussing whether to go out dancing or stay in drinking (or one and then the other). MG had bought a few tops earlier in the night and wanted to try them on before deciding which one to wear, which spiraled into calls for a ‘fashion show,’ put on by ‘the girls’ (the birthday girl and some of her and our friends, my roommate, and – somehow – myself).

I’m realizing my inclusion in such ‘female’ activities has a few components. First, I’m pleased and nervous to be included at all: What if I screw it up somehow? Are they including me because they think of me as ‘one of the girls,’ or because they know I want them to and they’re humoring me? Will I be able to get over myself and think of myself as ‘one of the girls’?

Then, I get quiet and try to participate without drawing too much attention to myself. This usually works for a while, until the final phase, when something happens to make me feel like I’m very much not ‘one of the girls’ and I end up hating myself for trying to participate in the first place.

(Incidentally, this progression is not unrelated to why I’m sitting at home writing this at 12:30AM on a Friday night while everyone else left about a half hour ago to go dancing.)

The first stage involved me sitting around in my roommate’s room as all the girls tried on tops around me and I tried not to look at bras and breast and other things that start with ‘B’. I was feeling awkward and like I shouldn’t be there, when I was finally given a loose zebra-striped top to try on. I was told I looked good in it, which led to the second stage, where I actually started to enjoy myself.

Make note that enjoying yourself is just setting yourself up to feel worse later. I know I’m going to reread this tomorrow and hate myself for saying it, but it’s how I feel right now as I sit here feeling sorry for myself.

We proceeded with the show, which involved everyone taking turns doing a model walk around the dining room table, with the exception of JM. She was playing announcer, and I think ultimately has body issues right up there with mine, but has the foresight to not get drawn into things that will make them flare up and ruin her evening. Or maybe I’m reading too much into things…

Anyway, we all went around and everyone came back out for the vote on which top MG should wear. I believe no one applauded for me because they simply weren’t voting for the top but, again, my hear sank a little.

After Marta ‘won’ the show (and the birthday tierra) most of us went back to change. My roommate stayed in the top she was in, because it made her boobs look amazing (I can’t blame her) and a few other people stayed in things for the fun of it.

I then looked at the pictures, which was my big mistake. I think I could have continued to enjoy myself, feeling all included and all that jazz, had I not looked at the pictures. I don’t know what anyone else would have seen, and I’m not posting them to find out, but I saw myself as fat and mannish. I’m going to acknowledge the zebra-print top did not help, and a few of the girls did seem disapointed when I changed out of it, but the pictures really made me feel shitty.

So I was enjoying moping, keeping some other girls who weren’t dying to go dancing company, when MG came in and sat down on my roommate’s bed (where we were chatting). She was obviously down, and had been going about the room changing tops, redoing her makeup, and generally fretting.

When we coaxed what was wrong out of her, it turned out that she was also feeling shitty about the fashion show because, as she put it, “Everyone else looked better in her outfits than she did. I’m fat and everyone else looked better than I did.” I bit down my first thought, “Really? You thought I looked better than you did?” I was afraid of the answer. And I bit down my second thought, which has continued building and gaining momentum for the last hour or so:

“You think you’re fat? You think you’re fat? You are beautiful and womanly and it makes me sick to hear you call yourself fat. If you want to lose weight, do it. Get off your ass and do it. I am sitting here hating myself because I let myself get caught up thinking I was ‘one of the girls’ when I’m not, and the climb to get to my goal seems a hell of a lot farther away than yours. I want to give up, crawl into a hole, and pull the lid onto myself. I hate hearing people say, ‘You’re so brave,’ or ‘I’m so proud of you,’ because I’m not. I’m scared and I don’t know what I’m doing and it’s too big and it’s too hard and…”

And now I’m crying at the keyboard for twenty four years of hating my body and hating myself for not speaking up about how I feel sooner and for having to speak up at all and for doing something that’s hurting the people I love and that’s hurting myself and for instability and for all of it.

It’s times like this I don’t want to go to bed, because I know the bad thoughts – the fears and pressues and insecurities of which these are just the tip – will come creeping out from behind the shadows and attack.

Before everyone left to go dancing, EU – without knowing what was keeping me home but able to guess at some of it – tried to give me a pep talk, about having fun with friends and not focusing on what other people think and living for the moment. It made me feel worse.

And I just spent some time talking with SS online and she told me I’m wonderful and beautiful, which just made me cry harder.

I feel like with every step I take, things get harder instead of easier.

-R

Goin’ to the chapel

Rebecca — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 05:13:20 +0000

A friend of mine is getting married this upcoming weekend and I’ve been stressing about what I’m wearing, and whether I’m going in boy-mode or girl-mode.

Initially, I assumed it was ‘obvious’ (note: nothing ever is) that I’d be going in boy-mode. My reasoning was I hadn’t seen the friend in a while and, while I’ve been out to her for years and she’s been nothing but accepting, she and her fiance are on the more conservative end of the spectrum than I am and I didn’t want to do anything that would distract from her special day. I feel like it would be selfish to present myself in such a way that would in any way take away from the focus on her.

However, I was told recently by MG that she and SH (the bride) had been talking and SH was totally okay if I went in girl-mode and was a little confused that I was thinking about not doing so.

So for the last week or so I’ve been stressing about how to go to the wedding, and constantly going back and forth. I brought some boy dress clothing from my mom’s over to the new apartment today (which needs another post entirely; summary is it’s great! well, mostly great!) and showed what I was thinking – black pants, blue button down shirt, tie, and jacket – to some male friends and it received their seal of approval. I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m going to wear, even though looking in the mirror I feel like A) I’ve lost some weight since buying the clothing and what weight is left has been (ahem) redistributed somewhat and B) I see my face as more and more feminine, so it looks a little drag-king-esque anyway.

But I feel like finding time before Saturday to go shopping for something – anything – I’ll feel comfortable wearing in girl-mode to the wedding is too much additional stress right now, particularly since I no longer have a weekend over which I could do some lower-stress not-post-work shopping. (My own fault, I know.)

And I feel sort of odd, because friends and my mom keep sort of nudging me toward going in girl-mode. I sort of think I understand that, about encouraging me to ‘be myself,’ which I do want to do, but I also feel like I should get to go at my own pace and going from ‘being in girl-mode most of the time outside of work, sometimes going out with friends in girl-mode’ to ‘going to a wedding in girl-mode’ is a major leap for me right now.

Or should I just have bit the bullet and gotten a stupid girl-mode outfit?

-R