Today I woke up wearing man underpants and a stripey wifebeater. I think that is what these tank tops are called; I feel that is a misogynist thing to call them, but some people will insist it is not, so whatever. Point is: totes hot. Literally, it gets really hot where I sleep, because it’s right in front of a window and the sun shines through, so I sleep with as few clothes as I can manage without offending housemates when we are stumbling around to and from the bathroom/first thing in the morning/etc.
I had to go out into the real world today, the world where there are men who stare at my little boobs and yell things about my ass, so I had to pick out what to wear for that occasion. At first I was going to wear another wifebeater and purple shorts because I am rad, but then I realized that my boobs were too visible and my ass was not minimized enough in that outfit. So I changed it to a silky button-down, a jean jacket (a real ’90s jean jacket from the actual ’90s), and some plain black shorts (over the man underpants), and went out like that.
Then the day got chillier, so I went into a thrift store to buy a scarf. While there, I also saw an inexpensive dress, and decided to try on the dress. I am whatever about dresses; they are garments that I like to wear, the same as I like to wear trousers or overalls or skirts or anything, and that’s about it, but this one actually looked pretty awesome on me. And it was cheaply priced, and old but high quality, and it had a handmended place on it (that sort of thing really endears me to a garment), so I bought it.
Soon thereafter, the jacket and new scarf were not enough to keep me warm, so I changed into the pair of tights that I’d brought. While I was at it, I wondered if I should also put on the dress, since it took up more room in my bag. So I changed that too, with the shirt and scarf back on overtop, and suddenly I had a lot more room in my bag.
At that moment, I realized I was also wearing a dress, and I could have had a moment wherein I wondered: “What am I? My personality is not very femme, and my hair-wearing and grooming and self-carriage are not very femme, but this outfit is femme, am I femme? Does the fact that I wish to wear a dress at all mean I am femmer than I think I am? Does the fact that I usually don’t wish to wear a dress mean that I am butch? Does the fact that I just wear a dress the way I’d wear anything else mean I am butch? Will wearing a dress make me less butch? Which part of my personality is dominant? Or do they just cancel themselves out? Am I neutrois now?!”
But since I am radscum, I skipped trying to mindfuck myself and just thought, “That lesbian looks pretty good in a dress,” and gave myself a chin-throw in the mirror.