Archives for posts with tag: style

I have mixed feelings about the uprising of internet personalities who gain sometimes awesome and sometimes undeserved traction through YouTube/etc channels (Jenna Marbles, anyone?). On the one hand, I know as a performer that the best way to excel is to perform – constantly, consistently, in front of an audience. Put your work out there as often as possible. Get the feedback, good or bad, and go with it and make more stuff. I love that. On the other hand – man am I tired of listening to stupid videos and worse, seeing stupid comments on stupid videos. If you have nothing to say, don’t make a video, and if you have nothing nice to comment about, DO NOT leave a comment, jackass. Please.

On the flip side – an incredible thing about internet video stars that I do wholeheartedly LOVE is how I see it empowering queer performers who would otherwise be ignored almost completely.  That just fuckin’ rules.

This has been making the rounds, and it’s basically how I feel every day:

Fuck yeah. <3 Hart. We’re both in SoCal. We should totally wear some melon together.

 

My office job ended last week, and with it the last of the feminine pretensions I had to keep up to play the game. It’s not that the office would have fired me if I didn’t wear a little makeup or women’s boots instead of my usual – it’s just that I made the decision to keep my boss very, very happy, and she’s a “looks matter” kind of woman.  Although she never said anything about my dress (a rotation of three very masculine yet still women’s suits with men’s collared shirts), I knew from the way she spoke about, oh, everyone else in the office that I’m sure she made many a comment about my appearance. However, I toed the line and all was well.

Now that I’m working from home I am back to my usual appearance – and with this small switch has come the return of me getting sir’d at every store and restaurant in town. Which is, quite frankly, awesome. I hadn’t realized how much I missed threading myself between the walls of gender perception.

Along those lines: I have a confession to make. When left to my own devices, I am not “dapper”. I know there’s a huge community of butches and androgynous and other-identified folk who happily sign on to the dapper banner, but really, I’m not one of them. I make the effort for my acting appearance, sure – but I’m most comfortable in a uniform of sorts, so I’ve collected my vests and ties and shirts and basically just swap color schemes on the same outfit anytime I need to go public.

But at home – comfy sweaters, old t-shirt, jeans. I wear grandpa slippers all day long inside.

I started noticing my non-dapperness recently while at rehearsals for the musical I’m directing. My cast includes one queer girl and one woman who has mostly lesbian friends (read: most of the people who worked on the L Word. Hello, Los Angeles). And the queer girl has a definite style, look, vintage dapper-ness all her own, even though she’s neither butch nor femme. The woman talks about her lesbian friends in a way that lets me know that they’re all impeccably coiffed all the time.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting on the dirty floor in my dirty chucks and cozy sweater, with my faux hawk not quite hawking, looking a mess as usual. Many people would Dress with a capital D just because they do every day – I can’t seem to muster the energy, or else I just have too many other things to think about. It’s like I’m the single mom of my own life.

Anyway – all the more reason why it’s nice to be sir’d again. Even in just a sweater, with my hair kind of in a weird/bad state these days (does anyone else have curls that suddenly decide to curl the other direction?), I can still go through an entire conversation at Target without the checker calling me miss. Dig it.

So the aftermath of Thanksgiving is still ringing loudly in my ears.  Does anyone else feel like the world is accelerating at unmanageable speeds?

In light of how terrible things are going right now – my gf and I sought solace in the only place we could. Holiday sales.

Behold the haul, courtesy of outlet malls:

American Rag Coat. New favorite winter thing. That black lining is the inner quilted zipper layer. 

AmRag coat from the back. DOUBLE VENTED, people.

I actually bought this in oatmeal, not the brown. I am a whore for Calvin Klein.

My face doesn’t do regular aviators, but non-droopy, more square ones look quite nice. Kenneth Cole.

Because I needed to update my work bag, and my gf + Kenneth Cole leather = love.

Red cords are festive. And warm. And even though I’m no longer in college, I can still love Gap.

I actually got this in corduroy, and not this brand – an off-brand, not-too-puffy vest. For a layer over the oatmeal sweater. Because I needed a hug.

Because I still love grandpa chic.

Yes, we bought some gifts for OTHER people too. But I haven’t had new clothes in forever, and there’s something wonderful about loving what you put on everyday, even if you’re like me and that could easily be the same pair of jeans and t-shirt over and over again.

 

… because I know this is pressing news, people –

laser hair removal totally works.

I’ve been musing on these questions a lot lately:

What is the line between butch and not-butch?  Or, in my case, between looking butch and looking “pretty”?

When people call me in to audition for butch roles, half the time I get told I’m not “butch enough”. The other half of the time I get weird lesbian jokes because I am obviously the most gigantic butch they have ever seen.

When I choose to wear makeup, why does that make non-butch women think I’m “toning down” my butchness? I think it’s butch to know what makes you look awesome, and man, some under-eye concealer makes me look awesome.  Yes, I still am like a gorilla wielding a teaspoon of peanut butter when I handle most makeup products, but I’m faring.

Why do so many people think being butch also equates to being  any of the following: unstylish, ill-groomed, overweight, overly-casual in dress or manner, or not having an opinion about any of the above?

Because I stopped worrying about how big my chest is (big, and not for lack of trying to eliminate it), does that make me less butch to all the fancy flat-chested butches out there, writing fashion advice and wearing stylish suspenders?

Why do my straight friends still see my labeling myself as butch as something less-than, or unnecessary, and how can I better educate them that this is my choice and how I am comfortable?

Yes, I’m out, but am I proud? Working on it…

 

 

 

This is so cool –

Saint Harridan is coming, and it’s going to be awesome. Finally someone is taking up the reins (pioneered most effectively, I believe, by the Butch Clothing Co. in the UK) of making men’s-cut suits for female or other-bodied folk.

And they’re starting with us – listening to our feedback, with an online forum this Saturday.

Here’s some of the info:

Saint Harridan has recruited 8 models representative of our community who will participate in the in-person Show & Tell Workshop. The goal of the workshop is to involve the community in the company from the very beginning. Saint Harridan’s founder, Mary Going, said she didn’t want to start the company in sales mode, but rather in listening mode. Meaning, on September 22, we will get to tell our stories. We will ask our models and community questions, like the ones below and more, and Saint Harridan will listen in order to create suits that empower our community.

– When have we ever felt good in our clothes?
– What do we want our clothes to do for us?
– What’s so special about a suit?
– What has shopping for clothes been like for us?

Tune in, be heard, check out some fantastic duds all at the same time.

 

 

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