Understanding + Resistant Aesthetics

Here's an interesting essay: Dress to Kill, Fight to Win, by Dean Spade. Somehow he manages to tie together both fashion and trans surgery in a fairly short piece. It ends with a question:

"Why would we want to do things that don’t require explanation, that are obvious, impervious to critique because no one even notices we’re doing them?"

Well, to fit in, of course. I've always had such a strong desire to be understood and to avoid misunderstanding. Confusing people on purpose is something that hasn't really occurred to me. Although...I like the idea of it. Don't get me wrong, understanding is an incredible thing. But it isn't always going to happen, and it's heartening to know that there might be some value in the alternative.

Spade also talks about "resistant aesthetics", which I think is a helpful term. I do want to resist, through my appearance, the sexual and gender norms of our culture. But I don't think anyone is going to figure this out just by looking at me. For women and those read as such, dressing "entirely outside of the sexual dimension" is virtually impossible. (Either we're sexy...or the absence of sexy.) I recently read a post called "Femme Visibility". The writer says that "femme presentations are often done to queer the idea of women as objects of men’s desire. It can be done to parody traditional ideas of women’s gender roles and dress." While these femmes are coming from a place of aesthetic resistance, they're often not perceived as queer or transgressive by society at large. I can relate to that dissonance, because I keep trying to dress outside of sexuality and gender. Spade seems to maintain that there's importance to these efforts, as imperfect as they may be. In some ways, my style does require explanation, even though it isn't unusual enough to draw much questioning.

Aging Androgynously

"When will my reflection show who I am inside?" --Mulan. Yeah.

*Edited to add: Since I submitted this post to the gender-themed Carnival of Aces round, I just wanted to clarify what my "thesis" was supposed to be: That those of us who don't quite fit the gender binary may have a harder time being read as adults in our culture, feeling like adults, or both. I don't think I made that as clear as I could have, what with all my complaining about looking young. Hee hee.*

Recently, I was at a community meeting where I was one of very few people younger than my parents' age. An older man approached me and asked me which school I went to. I said I didn't go to school. He asked, "Why, you didn't like it?" And I said no, I'd graduated. I get this all the time--"Are you in school?" It has been confirmed that I do have some kind of "academic look" about me. But I also get "What grade are you in?", implying that I'm in high school or younger, when I'm actually 27*. If you complain about looking young, you'll probably be told how lucky you are. But I didn't feel very lucky when, after making an important work presentation, I was met with "Isn't she cute?" (I am, as Dave Barry would say, not making this up.)

Approaching 30, I want to be taken seriously. But I worry that I'll go from oddly twee directly into "old". Will I ever get to be seen as just an adult, not a kid or a senior citizen? Do I have to start dressing like the editor of French Vogue? I have to constantly hear that marriage, children, and house-buying are indicators of adulthood, which has made me defensive about being viewed as a child or teen. Now with America's economic problems, the media is always saying how younger people are "putting off adulthood" because we can't afford houses and families. People, adulthood is not something you afford. It's not a Louis Vuitton bag. It's something you earned because you survived this far, and that can't be taken from you, even if you're sitting broke in a roadside ditch. I am an adult, but it's like no one knows it unless they look at my birth certificate. There are myriad ways to be an adult, just like there are myriad gender identities.

A couple of days ago, I was skimming through The Drag King Book. I came across the story of a FTM drag king who started taking testosterone. He said that the hormones were the only way that he could be viewed as an adult man. Otherwise, he would perpetually be a boy. I could kind of relate. Because on the one hand, I resent it when people infantalize me based on looks, gender, sexuality, or lack of traditional life achievements. But on the other hand, I feel like I'm forever a girl, waiting to grow into some mysterious gender that I can intuitively understand. There's this idea that we grow into our genders, that from children, we become men or women. But I feel like, if anything, I'm growing out of the gender that I used to take for granted.

Browsing a clothing store on another recent day, I decided that rather than look "sexy and feminine", as the show What Not to Wear would favor, I wanted to look "weird and androgynous". Okay, maybe not weird. I actually want to look cool and stylish. But androgyny seems to have the same connotations with youth as asexuality. Before puberty, everyone is "asexual" and androgynous to an extent. Most people didn't remain as such after puberty, but a few of us did. To be seen as an adult, do we have to "pick a side"? Maybe, but as I work on this post, I'm beginning not to care anymore. It's aggravating when people's comments play into my own insecurities, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me. I mean, this is what 27 looks like, whether that surprises people or not.

[Image: Photo of Ily, wearing a large pink bow and talking to a stuffed pineapple sitting on her shoulder.]

*A tangent on "looking like a student" (but still, gender related):

I told my mom that I'd look up the definition of "mansplaining" for her. On this post, I came across a comment by MissPrism that went like this:

"...you know, once or twice I have indeed heard a man say "I look young, so people assume I'm a student," but the VAST majority of the time it's a woman. Something's up with that: surely a similar proportion of men should look young for their age as women do? Thinking a young-looking woman must be a student isn't an excuse for mansplaining, it's part of it. Mansplainers assume a woman is as junior, and therefore clueless (the conflation of these two is of course hugely problematic in itself), as he can possibly construe her to be, while men are given the benefit of the doubt and assumed to be experienced and knowledgeable until proven otherwise."

While I don't think men are always necessarily given the benefit of the doubt (in other comments it's mentioned that men may mansplain to other men they perceive as "less manly"), it never occurred to me that people read as female might be told "you look like a student" more often than people read as male. It could also be possible that more women really do look young, due to social pressures to maintain a more youthful appearance. It's definitely an intriguing question. Maybe I'll ask my pineapple about it.

Things Asexuals Like: Dandyism

I'm in the mood for a not-so-serious post, and maybe this one is cheating. After all, dandyism seems like a subset of androgyny, which I've already covered. But, do I care? These have always been my favorite posts, and it's high time for more. It's hard to define what exactly a dandy is, whether it's a way of life or only a dress sense. It has a long history in various cultures and I can't possibly do it justice in one post. Just think of Oscar Wilde, though, and I think we'll be on a similar page. Modern dandyism seems to have something to do with aestheticism, gentility, and elegance. People who want to be known for their good taste, manners, wit, and general panache. While in real life, I'm often in jeans and a t-shirt, in my mind I'm like this:

[Image: Woman in a fedora, bright-blue jacket, tie, vest, and yellow loafers. Image from here.]

Or perhaps this:

[Image: Black-and-white vintage images of dandy-esque women in menswear ensembles. From here.]

Although it in no way relates to my daily presentation, at heart I am a dandrogyne, a term which was coined here on the TransYada forums. Dandies would probably prefer to hang out in Victorian-style conservatories, parks, libraries, tea shops, speakeasies, vintage clothing stores, and quaint or unique urban or rural areas not yet beset by Wal-Marts and Starbucks. They would probably not prefer sports bars, 7-11s, rodeos, subdivisions, or shopping malls. There seems to be something very Victorian-era about dandies; I must admit to loving a lot of their aesthetics but hating a lot of their attitudes (see my crush on certain Merchant-Ivory films for evidence of this). Also, there is something very romantic about it, in a Romantic-poets sense, rather than an attraction sense.

Now, I don't think dandyism is relevant to all asexuals, but I feel like there is a strong dandy current in our community. It would not be out of place. In this post, I wrote about some ways in which my personal style could be considered an asexual presentation. On some style blogs that I read, people fear the word "costumey" as a description for their outfits. But I have long been drawn to costumey styles, perhaps because the emphasis is on the wearer's clothing rather than their sexualized body, and because those styles break or mock the norms of gender presentation. I like looking at dandies, but I wouldn't consider them sexy at all. I'm just impressed by the way they put an outfit together--their use of clothing as an art form. Although to dandies, what isn't an art form?

Hobbit Acceptance Project: Conundrums

I had no idea what kind of response I would get on the first HAP post, but it was fantastic. I so appreciated your support, encouragement, and commiseration. Much love.

Things I've learned since I have started, strangely enough, to think about body hair:

• Because so many people of all genders remove or conceal their hair, no one knows what "normal" is. The internet is full of women asking, "Is it normal to have hair on my feet/chest/stomach/face/back?" And I don't have a clue. Nor do I have any idea what is "normal" for my ethnicity. There seems to be some agreement that Mediterranean and Eastern European peoples are especially hairy (I am a mix of both), but what does that even mean? (Aside from the fact that what's "sexy" on our heads is repulsive on our bodies.) When people know that they're "normal", it's much easier to not worry as much about whatever the issue may be. With the case of body hair, we never get that relief.


• It's easier to show leg hair than armpit hair. I think this is probably because we're more used to seeing leg hair--mostly on men, but still. At least in my area, men with hairy legs wear shorts most places. However, men with hairy armpits only show them in the most casual settings--the gym, for instance, or the beach. American culture doesn't tend to have positive associations with men in sleeveless shirts. Uhh, the phrase 'wifebeater' comes to mind.
  


• Which leads to my conundrum. Women can show their armpits whenever, wherever, in even the most formal occasions. But the expectation, of course, is that the armpits are hairless. In the centuries before women started shaving, female clothes were much less revealing. Do I shave to wear some clothes (perhaps more fancy or formal ones) and not others? Do I change the types of things that I wear? Or do I proceed as usual with my wardrobe, unshaven? I haven't yet answered these questions for myself.
  

At any rate, the HAP continues apace. I continue to wear my rolled-up jeans, shorts, and even wore a skirt one day. I did wear a sleeveless shirt on two occasions, but no one really saw me on those days. No evidence yet than anyone has particularly noticed or cared about any of these things, although I still feel apprehensive that I'm going to get rude comments. Maybe I should try to change my thinking and make it my goal to get rude comments. Then if I get them, I could feel vindicated rather than diminished. I have always shied away from making people uncomfortable, but sometimes it's impossible to make a statement, whether social or artistic, without doing that. Although if no one ever says anything...that would be perfectly fine!

Anatomy of Pink Kneesocks

A post on Asexual Curiosities got me thinking about how I express asexuality through my personal style. In a comment to that post, I wrote:

Actually I like [clothes] that are so over-the-top girly, they make fun of it. Like the whole Japanese “fruits” aesthetic. I don’t wear entire outfits like that, but I like the style. Also, I like clothes that are funny or unusual. I’ve worn some very strange outfits in my time. Maybe that’s some version of an asexual presentation, because I’m focusing on something, but it’s completely unrelated to sexiness.

(Nor was I focusing on current trends, ease, or a certain gender presentation.) Writing this comment brought me back to a few years ago, when I was meeting a guy I kiiinda liked. By that, I mean I was trying to figure out whether or not I was romantically attracted to him. If I was, it only lasted for a few days. But even so, I had the desire to "impress" him at a certain event. I was able to dig back and find a picture of what I wore. It looked like this:

• A Clash t-shirt
  
• A blazer, striped with different shades of blue
  
• A short denim skirt
• Pink leggings
• Pink and white striped kneesocks
• Sparkly purple slippers
  

Now that I think about it, this outfit screamed "I am asexual!", a thing I never told him out loud. Clothes may seem superficial, but they expressed something important when words failed me. I wouldn't call it a "sexy" look by any means. (At least, not to the average 20-something American male.) It wasn't something that would traditionally be read as either straight or lesbian. At the torso level, it said something like, "Why yes, I do like punk rock and hanging out in libraries reading the classics." But below the knee, it became totally eccentric. It was saying, "Thrift shopping? Unicorn riding? Discussion of obscure Swedish popsongs? I'm your girl. Sex? Not so much." But none of this was going through my head; I just wanted to wear something that would make me feel confident.

I can think of similar stylistic choices throughout the years, both pre- and post- asexuality realization. Maybe the most obvious was the outfit of t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers that I wore to clubs during my months of study abroad. The outfit completely ignored the sexual/romantic intentions of the place. I don't remember feeling awkward in my casual clothes, maybe because they also conveyed important facts. In my jeans and sneakers, no one ever hit on me, allowing me to dance in peace. If I put on a skirt and heels, that changed.