Skirts and Boots.

So I went to my niece's wedding as planned. Here we both are:

Obviously she wins in the fashion stakes there. And it's very nice to see her looking so happy :)

As for me, it didn't actually take much nerve at all. (I mean, I'm nearly 60; why the fuck am I even still thinking about this shit?!) But reactions were interesting in one (or two) respect(s)...

The women (the younger ones anyway) were all: “Ooo, fabulous skirt, where did you get it?” To answer that: from someone called Linda, who makes “gothic victorian steampunk” gear and flogs it on eBay.

The men en masse said nothing. No antipathy, no funny looks (at least that
I noticed), but no comment. Perhaps it's simply that straight men mostly aren't interested in clothes. They were all, as you'd expect, well turned out in their suits and ties. Maybe they felt quite smart wearing them. Or at least properly attired to accompany straight women in an array of spectacular frocks. But I'd guess the guys would be equally – or more – content to dress less formally.

Apart, that is, from famous relative, who wore a white jacket and trousers and fetching yellow scarf.

And who did comment – approvingly with "You've dressed up for the wedding!"

Well, yes. Yes, I have, Ian :)

I've also started using an eyebrow pencil. If anyone's noticed that, they haven't said anything. Perhaps I know too many straight men.

Boots. (2)

Four months later, I have another new pair of boots. Well, secondhand pair of boots. They were advertised on eBay as “drag queen boots”. I bid on them anyway – a last six seconds sniper's bid – and got them for £5.50 plus p&p. £10.82 all told. Sweet.

And they fit, which is by no means a given with eBay footwear purchases. Here's what they look like with my aforementioned skirt.

Frankly, this post is just an excuse to post that picture – which I like because of the way it's taken: with a small reflected sun where my face should be.

Now the question is whether I have the nerve to wear boots and skirt to my niece's wedding next month. She'll be disappointed if I don't.

Boots.

You keep saying you got something for me. Skirts, check. Tights, check. (What else with skirts?) How about footwear?

I've already mentioned my humming bird boots, once or twice. People seem to like these...

Now I have a new pair of boots. My youngest niece arranged with her multiple siblings to buy me some DMs for Christmas. She'd mentioned DMs before, and later asked my shoe size, so I was more than half expecting them. But not the colour...

Aren't they grand :)

Sod the whole of last year. 2023 is going to kick. Something or someone.

Are you ready, boots? Start walking.

Skirts. (2)

Yes, most everything is still shit. No change there. However, I've managed to resolve the skirt issue from the previous post. The one where I was “thinking all the time about wearing skirts.”

After pondering and perusing the question, considering the possibilities, weighing them up, sifting them through, looking at them from varied angles and perspectives, I finally hit upon a solution.

Wearing skirts.

Hardly anyone gives a fuck.

“I'd probably have to ask my mate first.”
— Wear what you want.
— Okay :)

Two gigs, two skirts. Two trips into town, two skirts. (I don't get out much.)

Comments/reactions:
(young woman at gig) — “Great skirt.”
(young man at gig) — “I like your skirt.”
(woman in street) — “Nice skirt.”
(woman in shop) — “Love the skirt.”
(man in street) — “Nice, nice.”
(young girl in lift) — “Ha ha ha.”

Bah. What do young girls know about anything anyway?

Skirts.

The whole world is going down the fucking toilet. Everything is just shit and it's getting increasingly worse, it seems to me, increasingly. I can't even begin. Shit, shit, every where, nor any way to avoid it. You'll be drinking it whether you will or no.

From this super happy place, I've found myself thinking a lot about...

Skirts.

For instance:

Isn't that gorgeous! Who wouldn't want to wear a skirt like that? Even if it won't look quite so good on you. Or me.

Nevertheless:

Now I just need an occasion to wear it out. My youngest niece has suggested her wedding. Maybe :)

The last time I wore a skirt out was twelve weeks ago at the NTU Gender Matters conference. Finn Mackay was the keynote speaker, so presenting femme by wearing a skirt – a long purple one, paired with a they/them/theirs t-shirt in non-binary colours – seemed the least I could do. To show solidarity with my butch sibling as it were.

Now I'm thinking about wearing skirts all the time.

That is to say: I'm thinking all the time about wearing skirts. Or even both. There's a punk gig coming up on Saturday. I could wear my new skirt to that. And there's another gig on Thursday. I'd probably have to ask my mate first. Would it bother you if I wear a skirt? Maybe.

In the words of the song: I don't have any reasons. I've left them all behind. I'm in a new skirt state of mind.

Style.

There was a piece in The Guardian a few months back: “‘I went from basic to flamboyant overnight!’ The people who transformed their style – in their 50s, 60s and 70s”.

It's subheaded: “Growing older can mean getting bolder – so why shouldn’t this be reflected in our clothes? Meet four people who refuse to blend into the background”. I don't know about “getting bolder”. I think it's more an increasing feeling of “I really couldn't give a shit”.

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple.

The person with the style I most like there is Arlinda McIntosh (64, New Jersey): “The clothes I wanted to wear didn’t exist, so I started making these big celebratory skirts, some with trains, so I could bring joy to my appearance.” Right. Especially as the cross-dresser's "traditional" short skirt has never done it for me. I prefer to be covered up. And big celebratory skirts seem just the way. Skirts with a lot of material. Skirts that flounce. Skirts that swish and swirl. Mmm, yes.

Style-wise anyway. Word-wise I'm with Phil Grosset (51, York), who now identifies as non-binary: “I choose things that I think look nice and make me feel good without worrying about what gender they’re marketed at. Clothes that are marketed to women have so much more choice in their patterns, colours and fabrics – it’s made me addicted to colour.” Patterns, colours, fabrics. Mmm, yes.

Maybe I should turn this into a fashion blog.

On which note, I note that McIntosh runs her own label, Sofistafunk, where “the voluminous Skirt reins Supreme and all else is an accessory to It”. The ‘A Long Gathering’ skirts are my favourites, if a bit out of my price range. Then again, if I can spend £900 on a great bass recorder...

Eleven years.

...last Tuesday. That is, since my first post on 7th February 2011. One year I'm going to remember.

Looking back at those early posts – from the first three years, culminating
in Straight Male Femme (published here in 2018) – everything seems so earnest and important. And I suppose it was. I started this very much as a blog about cross-dressing: a big thing in my life that I needed to work through and explain, most of all to myself.

Now?

I've not exactly reached the stage that “they're not women's clothes, they're my clothes”, as Eddie Izzard once put it. (Indeed, I'm not sure Eddie is at that stage any longer.) It's still significant to me that everything I buy is off the women's racks. I've still haven't learned – or even tried – to present as femme in clothes from the other side of the store. I never even look at the other side of the store.

Perhaps that's just laziness. It's a lot easier to get stuff off the women's racks. Go out – or, more often, go online – pick up a nice fluffy jumper, or furry coat, or pink jeans, or cute trainers, or...

Um, vest check, gun check, clip one check, clip two check, I'm set.

If anybody ever asks... But they never do.

In any case, a question that concerns me more now is: will I still be around in another eleven years? And if so, where? :/

Butch Voices.

One thing that's been missing from my life for ... what seems like ages ... is butch voices. That is, the thoughts and experiences of butches: cis butches, queer butches, non-binary butches, trans butches. Although I identify as femme, when I read or hear from other femmes there's often some adjustment required. In order to relate, I have to tweak it a little. Whereas with butches there's an almost direct correlation, such that I find myself nodding constantly in agreement. So it's been a solace to see butch voices surface again recently.

Significantly, first of all, in Dr. Finn Mackay's important book ‘Female Masculinities and the Gender Wars’, which they wrote largely because they felt that butch voices were going unheard. The book expands on their original (2017) research into lesbian and queer masculinities, which I've referenced before (see here).

Another apparent aim was to disentangle radical feminism from its trans-exclusionary associations. As Finn shows, radical feminism is not inherently trans-hostile or transphobic. Indeed, and for what its worth, a lot of my own views on gender – re gender-based oppression, gender roles, gender stereotyping, and so forth – are derived substantially from radical feminism. I think we're natural allies. As Finn makes clear:

“Trans women are women is the answer to the question of whether trans women are women, but it isn't the only question we need to ask. The tragedy is that sides are being fought for at all, by communities which should have no sides, because we all share a greater enemy, and that is the forces of racist right-wing nationalism seeking to impose reactionary sex and gender conservatism on everyone.”

Less academically, Ella Braidwood has written about... ‘A moment that changed me: The haircut that liberated me as a butch lesbian’. Click the link for the whole thing. Here I'd just like to highlight:

“I found inspiration in transgender and non-binary people, too, including several drag kings in London, where I now live. I disagree with claims that transgender and non-binary people erase or threaten my identity as a butch lesbian and a cisgender woman. Conversely, they have been a massive source of strength to me, particularly in terms of living authentically.”

Ah, that's so nice to read. Not least because Ella's feelings are very much reciprocated. Butch lesbians have been a massive source of strength to me too, particularly in terms of living authentically. Also:

“Pressuring people who don’t want to conform to gender stereotypes doesn’t change them. It damages them. My haircut helped to liberate me. I just wish I had felt able to do it years ago.”

“I just wish I had felt able to do it years ago.” I'm guessing many of us could say the same. Please visualize a *friends* emoji. Or, should you prefer, some seasonal sentiment:

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak' a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.