Halloween Horror: a Good Woman Is a Dead Woman

Already a week into October, it’s time to start thinking about what to be for Halloween. A lot of mainstream Halloween costumes are “sexy” lady-versions of traditionally men’s costumes: sexy cop, sexy Sherlock Holmes, sexy devil, etc. I don’t really have a problem with that — if you wanna wear what is essentially a cheap polyester bikini while you freeze your ass off at a party, go for it.

But where do I draw the line? At the Jane Doe DOA bodybag costume.

Jane Doe DOA Bodybag Halloween Costume

Because being an unidentified dead woman is hot.

The accompanying description completes the horrortainment:

He will be dead on arrival when you show up in this drop dead sexy Jane Doe DOA bodybag adult women’s costume. The dress hugs your every curve and the zipper… well, how low does it go? You decide! You can zip it all the way up and close the hood, or zip it down when he goes down.

It comes with a Jane Doe tag because the only thing better than being a dead lady in a short zipper dress is being an anonymous dead lady in a short zipper dress.

To be clear, I wouldn’t really have a problem with this costume being marketed in the context of fetish wear. If you get off being in, or pretending to be in, a body bag, get on with your bad self at your fetish ball or in the comfort of your own home. But once the context changes and the costume is marketed as a mainstream Halloween offering (as this one is), it carries with it strong social messages: a dead woman is a desirable woman, and the death of women in impersonal and potentially violent situations is so commonplace as to no longer be tragic.

Switcharoo: Hana Pesut’s Photo Project

Recently I came across the Switcharoo project by Canadian photographer Hana Pesut.
Hana takes couples or small groups and photographs them in their
typical clothes. Then she has everyone switch clothes and takes another
photo. The resulting side-by-side set is a whimsical double portrait.

I couldn’t find an artist’s statement about the project, so I don’t
know what the photographer’s intentions are. What I find so fascinating
about the project is how similar the photos look — by switching clothes,
one can see the gender performance that the clothes require of their
wearers. When I look at the photos, I see the similarities between the
people, and it’s easier to tease out what qualities are attached to the clothes themselves.

What do you see in these photos?

Vij & Andy portrait

Vij & Andy

Jodi & Rob portrait

Jodi & Rob

Pam & Bruce portrait

Pam & Bruce

Kristy & Brennan portait

Kristy & Brennan

Jen & Corey portrait

Jen & Corey

Christina & Phil portrait

Christina & Phil

Mish & Colin portrait

Mish & Colin

Matt & Stormey portrait

Matt & Stormey

Maryanne & Dmitry portrait

Maryanne & Dmitry

Katina & Jerry portrait

Katina & Jerry

Julia & Matthew portrait

Julia & Matthew

Dustin & Shmoo portrait

Dustin & Shmoo

Chad & Jessica portrait

Chad & Jessica

Leila & Azim portrait

Leila & Azim

 

Genderqueer Masculine Clothing: Beyond Jeans and T-shirts

As a kid, I hated getting dressed in the morning. Almost all my
clothes — especially anything formal or “girly” like tights and dresses —
caused my skin to feel tight and a knot to develop in the pit of my
stomach. I wish I could say I’d outgrown the experience, but
unfortunately it’s still a common occurrence. The only partial remedy
I’ve found is to wear the least restrictive and least gendered clothing I
can find. What in the 80s and 90s was stirrup pants and baggy
sweatshirts has become jeans and t-shirts.

This means that for years I’ve been the most under-dressed individual
at holiday gatherings and parties. Fortunately, this hasn’t caused
conflicts with others, just a self-imposed embarrassment. When
absolutely necessary, I’ve pulled old dresses out of the closet and
“suited up,” choosing to view my attire as part of a conscious drag
performance. But my patience with even that gender game has waned
recently. Dresses just don’t feel like an option anymore.

But wearing traditional men’s formal apparel feels like just as much
of a drag performance. The boxy or flour-sack suit jackets and tapered
slacks.  (Just the word “slacks” makes me gag a bit.)

I’ve managed to avoid formal-wear situations for a while now, but my
luck is about to run out. While I’m really happy to be attending my
sibling’s wedding in a few months, it’s causing quite the clothing
panic. I want to be truly present at this joyous occasion, and whatever
outfit I’m wearing, I want to own it.

I just need to figure out what it is.

For inspiration, I recently searched the Web for queer clothing resources. Here’s some highlights of what I found:

  • DapperQ.
    What is a DapperQ? A DapperQ is defined as “a transgressor of men’s
    fashion. An authentic, courageous genderbender who uses fashion
    as a means to expressing our ever-evolving capacity to advance
    change.” This mammoth site has a wealth of information for
    fashion-obsessed butch, trans-masculine, etc., people — from style
    advice to designer profiles to encouragement to live at the
    “intersection between personal authenticity and style.”
  • The Steampunk Collection from Marimacho

    The Steampunk Collection from Marimacho

    Marimacho.
    Marimacho is a small, Brooklyn-based clothing line for “cis women and
    transmasculine bodies.” Right now they have a limited line of dress
    shirts, sportcoats, and bow ties, but I hope they’ll be offering more
    soon. What makes Marimacho clothing different from traditional
    “menswear”? “We make classic masculine garments with narrower armholes
    and necklines, shorter sleeve lengths, more bust room, etc. In this way,
    we offer cis women, trans men and gender queer folks the same standards
    of fit and style available in mainstream menswear.”

  • Duchess Clothier. Definitely not in everyone’s budget, Duchess Clothier makes made-to-measure suits.
    A custom suit from Duchess Clothier.

    A custom suit from Duchess Clothier. Photo Credit: Jessica Watson, jessicawatsonphotography.com

    But what makes Duchess different from other made-to-measure or
    bespoke tailors is that they, in their own words, “absolutely LOVE being
    able to provide perfectly fitting masculine suits for a natural (or
    bound) female frame…” They make drool-worthy clothes with an
    understanding of the unique needs of genderqueer and trans bodies (in
    addition to making clothes for cis women and men). If you’re near San
    Francisco or Portland and could use a finely tailored suit, you should
    check them out.

  • Genderplayful. I can’t wait until this off-shoot of Genderfork
    is up-and-running. Genderplayful will be a online marketplace for
    people to buy and sell “androgynous, unisex, butch, dapper, femme,
    gender-bending, gender-transgressive, and gender-fanflippingtastic
    clothing solutions for all kinds of bodies.” You can read more about the
    project on Genderplayful’s Tumblr page.

These Web sites have kept me inspired while I keep looking for the
clothes that work for me. If you have any other genderqueer clothing
resources to share, please comment below.

An Unexpected Encounter at the Dry Cleaners

I was recently in a wedding, and being who I am, of course
spilled bruschetta across the skirt of my dress. The dress is silk so I
tried to get it over to the dry cleaners fast, hopeful that they could
get the stain out.

A few weeks later I went back in to the dry cleaners to pick up my dress.

The guy behind the counter takes my name and comes back a minute
later with my green dress. “That’s a pretty dress, were you in a
wedding?” He asks.

“I was.” I say, “It was fun.”

“Were you the maid of honor or a bridesmaid?” he asks.

“Oh, I was on the groom’s side. So I was technically a groomsmaid.” I
say. At this point I’m expecting him to just say, “Oh great.” and run
my card or maybe laugh at the word “groomsmaid” because he hasn’t heard
it before. But instead we have this conversation.

“Oh, wow. that’s … unexepected,” he says, “It’s just unexpected, you
know? My mom always says to me that it’s ok if people are gay, but it’s
just so…unexpected.” He starts to look uncomfortable.

“Ok.” I say, trying to hand him my card and convey both my disagreement and my desire to stop talking to him with a single word.

“I mean, think about it,” he continues, “Like one day, you come home
and you’re just expecting things to be how they are, and instead your
house has been robbed and it’s trashed, totally unexpectedly messed up.”

“I hope the idea of a groomsmaid is less disturbing to you than your house getting broken into,” I say.

In the awkward silence that follows, it seems pretty clear that he
would rather have his house broken into than contemplate the idea of any
sort of gender transgression. He runs my card and I consider whether or
not I will return to this same dry cleaners again.

When I get the dress home there is a note inside the garment bag that
apologizes for being unable to remove the stain from my dress without
damaging the fabric. Maybe he could’ve mentioned that instead of how
much he is disturbed by deviations from the gender binary?

What struck me about this whole interaction was how incredibly
perturbed this person was by the idea of me standing up on the groom’s
side. If he judged by the dress, I was conforming to my gender, so it
was just the idea of a man having female friends standing up for him at a
wedding that flipped him out so bad he went into a downward spiral
about gay people and property destruction.

I hate having these kinds of interactions. It makes me feel like
there’s a big part of the world that has a deep, underlying hate for
what is different. Even without generalizing dramatically to what the
world thinks, it baffles me to think how we can live harmoniously with
people who think this way. Obviously people like him aren’t interested
in getting along if they’re so afraid of us they would prefer their
belongings ransacked to interacting with people who are “unexpected”.

Maybe the answer has nothing to do with getting along and we’re on
course for a big fat culture war. Just imagine if some queer with
non-conforming gender broke into that guy’s house. Now that would be
“unexpected”.

we are the super (gender) friends.

after a long week, i super was happy to have some time this
morning to catch up on my favorite blogs, and finally get back in the
habit of posting here again.

in the process of interweb cruising, i came across a great article on feministing
from thursday written by jos.  the article is about the concept of
gender friends, and if you’re not familiar with what that means, jos
does a great job of explaining:

a gender friend is someone i feel comfortable talking through
gender issues with. i’ve got a range of gender friends, from folks i
like to have nerdy theoretical conversations with to a few folks with
whom i talk through incredibly personal issues. they’re people who share
some important common understandings about gender, who i know i won’t
have to explain basic concepts to when talking about something i’m
struggling with or excited about. they’ve helped me process my feelings
and experiences around gender, helped me explore my genderqueer identity
and then come out as a trans woman. and i’ve helped friends through
similar experiences.

my gender friends don’t necessarily identify the same way i do –
in fact, my best gender friends are genderqueer and trans guys, and i’ve
got cisgender gender friends. but they are people who know me well, who
think seriously about gender at a political, cultural, and personal
level, and who are great, compassionate listeners who are also willing
to open up. we don’t always see eye to eye on everything either, but
they’re the kind of friends who care about me and can support me where
i’m at. i first had this sort of conversation in a genderqueer
discussion group at college – some of the members of that group are
still close gender friends today.

this article got me thinking about my own gender friends who, like
jos’, do not necessarily identify the same way i do.  it is through
conversations with gender friends that i have come somewhat close to
realizing my own gender identity.   being cisgendered
obviously makes processing my gender not as complicated as it is for
people who are trans, genderqueer, or gender non-conforming, but it’s
still taken me a long fucking time.

during adolescence i remember struggling with mainstream concepts of
femininity, and a lot of time was spent figuring out exactly how i was
going to circumnavigate the usual trappings of make up and tight,
revealing clothing and still maybe possibly get laid.  turns out
thrifted men’s polyester slacks were not the answer, but damn it if they
weren’t surprisingly comfortable.

i also remember having debates with my mom over make up, and how the
establishment was trying to suck our money away and make us feel bad
about natural blemishes at the same time, so why give in to that. 
she made the argument, one that i’m now pretty on board with, that if
wearing make up makes you feel good and empowered, there’s nothing wrong
with it, outside of all of the dangerous chemicals they put in that
shit.

i was fortunate that my best friend, kara, was much like myself in
that we were both clueless about “girly” stuff.  so since neither
of us were particularly interested in that, i did not feel like i was
extra weird for my inability to do my hair or apply any sort of
eyeliner.

my man feet, which i have already talked about in depth on this blog, were also a hindrance in me figuring out what looking like a lady was going to mean to me.

once i got to college, i still fluctuated quite a bit with gender
presentation, especially with make up and whether or not i would wear
it.  my one fashion constant from late-high school to mid-college
was that my wardrobe was mostly filled with vintage t-shirts, and the
most flattering jeans available to a girl stuck between straight and
plus sizes.

the real shift came, not surprisingly, after switching majors from
linguistics to gender, women, and sexuality studies, where a veritable
department of gender friends was now my everyday reality.   there
was lot of talk about reclaiming make up and sexy threads for the sole
purpose of feeling awesome about yourself, and not in order to drive the
men (or women) wild or to suggest that women need make up in order to
be attractive.  these conversations definitely helped me work
through a lot of the reluctance i had over wearing make up or
provacative clothes in spite of wanting to.

my discussions with gender friends have not shifted my gender
presentation to any specific look.  now i just wear what i feel
like on that day, and wear make up if i want to and know it’s not going
to melt off my face, all of which is possible daily because I can wear
whatever what I want to at my wonderful new job.  it’s a major step
up from the requisite, soul-strangling khakis and polo that i donned at
a previous job for so much of this last, long winter of ours.

on friday morning, after picking up the a/c that alison has
generously given me, i had to run across the street to ace hardware to
get an extension cord.  i intentionally picked the cashier who is
soft butch/genderqueer/gnc, not because of that, but because they’re
super nice and really good at their job.   i decided to sign
up for the ace rewards card, because it’s right across the street from
me and eliminates my need to ever go to target by a whole bunch. 
when i was filling out the form, i was kind of bowled over by the fact
that they include a box to check male or female.  i was going to
write about how stupid this is, and why an interest in tools should not,
even more so than just about anything else, require you to disclose
your gender identity.  but that post will have to wait for another
day.

i asked the cashier if they knew why this was on the form, because it
doesn’t make any fucking sense, and they said they didn’t know. 
after a short pause, they told me, “but you could mess with them and
check both boxes.”  i replied, “good idea,” and proceeded to do so.

i encourage anyone and everyone to find a gender friend.  even
if it’s not to discuss your own identity, you could find someone who has
a different perspective than you on the role(s) gender plays in our
lives, and what actions we all can take to keep gender from limiting our
lives.  and believe me, that is worth discussing.

happy 4th everyone.

find a super gender friend today!


 

shitty taste has no gender: why miller lite gets it terribly, terribly wrong.

last saturday night, we had a few people over to the apartment
for pizza because it was too cold for us to venture outside.  when
my boyfriend asked his friend’s girlfriend if she would like a beer, and
if so, what kind, she said, “sure, i’ll have the girliest kind you
have.”  when he asked what that meant exactly, she said, “the
lightest one.” my boyfriend and i are both huge beer lovers, and are not
the kind of household that has many light beers on hand, with a strict
ban on “lite” beers.

while watching sunday football, we were inundated with miller lite’s
“man up” ad campaign, which consists of various commercials that feature
men wearing skinny jeans or revealing bathing suits
trying to order lite beers, but who instead get served disparaging
comments over their gender presentation.  this is not a new
campaign, and earlier last year when i was in korea, they released
similar ads featuring men with “purses”, and in what i think is their most ridiculous ad, skirts
i don’t think the skirt ad is ridiculous because i don’t think men
should wear skirts, i’m all for it.  i think it’s ridiculous
because a. the guy looks almost as surprised as the other people when
it’s shown he’s wearing a skirt, and offers no defense/explanation of
why he’s wearing it (unlike the guy wearing skinny jeans who says
“they’re in right now”) and b.  the end of the commercial shows him
saying “check it out, i lost the skirt and got a miller lite.” gender
policed.

what really bothers me as a woman who deeply loves beer is that this
campaign operates on the idea that there are two types of lite beers,
those with good taste and those with no taste (i thought they were all
the latter), and that if you’re “manly” you prefer the good tasting
beer, and if you’re a woman/genderqueer/effeminate man etc. you “don’t
care” about how your beer tastes.  fuck that.

9 months of living in a country that hardly has any good beer (and
what is available is super expensive), and no super-hoppy bitter beers
to speak of, which are my favorite, added significantly to my
homesickness.  fortunately, my lovely best friend, a huge beer
lover herself, brought me some surly furious
to tide me over when she came to visit me in june.  after arriving
home and reveling in the vast selection of microbrews now available to
us again, i decided to found a beer tasting club with some of our
closest friends.  tomorrow, we’re all venturing to st. paul to
attend the beer dabbler showcase.
70 breweries in 4 hours, all in the minnesota cold. as long as there’s
cheese curds, and i don’t fall in a fire pit or pass out in a snowbank,
this is going to be one of the best saturdays ever.

it’s sad to me that miller, like other big beer companies, has to
resort to such shitty advertising tactics to promote their shitty
beer.  people shouldn’t be shamed into drinking lite beer, they
should be educated into drinking better beer.

cheers everyone!

petite feet! feminine step!

our world is made up of strict categories, many of which are so
conditioned into our social fabric that many people hardly give them a
lick of thought on a regular basis, if at all.  the problem with
these categories is that without examination and critique they often
wear away at us slowly when we don’t fit neatly inside of them,
regardless of why we don’t.  i can give an example of this in my
own life as a self-identified lady, whose femininity gets a lot more
complicated south of my ankle.  i have man feet.  i’ll start
at the beginning.

i was above-average height at an early age, and my feet predicted
this would be the case by growing even earlier, much like a puppy. 
however, it wasn’t until i was about 10 years old that i realized this
was going to have some incontrovertible consequences for my gender
presentation later in life.  in the 4th grade i hit 5
feet tall (much to my similarly heighted teacher’s chagrin), and my shoe
size in turn hit a women’s size 10.  until this point, i had
enjoyed comparing my feet to my mother’s and her friends, getting a kick
out of the fact that I had achieved “grown up” feet.  however, it
was at this juncture i realized (much to my own chagrin) that i still
had a good 3-4 years of growing left to do, and it was not going to stop
with my boobs, hips, and legs.  my feet were going to keep it up
also.

and they did.  even though they held steady for a while,
eventually they crept up from a woman’s size 10 to an 11.  
depending on who you are you may not be aware of this, but there is
scant selection for attractive (or even ugly) women’s shoes in this size
range, especially during the late nineties.  much like women’s
plus-sized clothing, larger sized women’s shoes have come a long way in
the last 10 years or so.  which would be great for me, had my feet
not outpaced progress and kept growing.  so I still remain outsized
of the vast majority of women’s shoes.  i am now usually a “mens”
size 11. without my snazzy collection of puma sneakers i would not have
been able to make my feet pass as “women’s” as well as i have. 
nonetheless this has resulted in  me:

  • noticing myself in the same shoes as men riding the bus with me.
  • asking some of my man friends where they got their stylish slip-on shoes.
  • looking at a group of my friends’ shoes in an entry way, only to notice that mine are noticeably larger than everyone else’s.
  • recognizing the futility of trying to find lady slippers in the
    women’s section of t.j. maxx and trudging over to the men’s section with
    my boyfriend to successfully find a pair of gender neutral men’s
    slippers (they make me look like a modern scandinavian elf).
  • splitting up with my sister at dsw so she can find a pair of cute
    ballet flats while i deliberate in the men’s section about whether or
    not a pair of leather loafers would be “over the top.”

obviously on the scale of shitty problems to have, this does not rank
particularly high.  transmen and transwomen getting harassed while
using the bathroom of their choice would be a significant example of
how putting undue importance on gender is harmful for us as individuals
and as a society.  if i really wanted to, i could shop at a
specialty store for women that has larger sizes, or a specialty store
for men that make high heels and other drag show quality footwear. 
however, those stores are generally fairly expensive, and frankly i
don’t want to wear heels.  even though i’m a lady i’m not high
femme like that, not to mention i’m already as tall as i want to be.

my point in writing this is to illustrate one of the many ways that
hyper-gendering our society can hinder smaller arenas of our
lives.   have I accepted the fact that my feet are shaped a
lot like my dad’s?  yes.  do I have a boyfriend who thinks my
feet are super beautiful?  yes.  would I still like to be able
to find a feminine shoe in a “mens” size 11?   fuck yes.  it
is disheartening to me to get continuously rejected by the “womens” shoe
section.  what would really make me happy is to see is a
gender-neutral section of shoe stores, where each style of shoe present,
regardless of masculine or feminine overtones, is made in every goddamn
size.

these strict categories of “mens” and “womens” are not going to go
away on their own.  they need to be discussed, dismantled, and
reconfigured to suit whoever wants to identify as one of
them.   it is to be a part of this process that i am writing
for the queer and now, in hopes that together we can make this crazy
world fit us all a little better.

now to poke fun at the idea that your sex or gender would automatically decide the size of your feet, here’s tim and eric’s “petite feet.”