There I was in a neighborhood cafe waiting in line to order, when my mind turned to the two women standing and talking at the other end of the counter, waiting for their orders to be filled.
I was dressed much the same way they were – short jean shorts, a feminine T and flip-flops. But, I had this overwhelming feeling of, well… being an imposter!
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I have a lot to think about today, so I had an idea that I would decamp to a cafe for a change of venue to help in the thought process.
Little did I expect the weather to come right out of central casting.
It is a comfortably warm day, but rainy and grey.
As chance would have it, I got a seat at the communal table right by the totally open front wall of the cafe, and my cappuccino arrived just as I sat down.
I take a deep breath and inhale it all…
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Today is one of those funny days when I don’t really know what I am.
I got up this morning knowing that I can be as I wish, then got dressed in a white pair of pants that are technically male clothes, but not categorically so.
I thought about what to put on top for a minute, then settled on my favorite green top with white stripes – a nice complement to the pants, and as feminine a top as the pants were masculine – in other words, debatably so.
Androgynous running shoes completed the androgynous outfit.
I hung around the house for a while, eating breakfast and answering emails and such, then had to go out.
I decided to accessorize my look with a necklace and two rings, and in a last minute decision, put on a touch of mascara and subtle lipstick.
The clothes are, as I have said umpteen times before, merely a reflection of my mood, not the other way around.
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This weekend’s New York Times Magazine cover story had the same name as this post. I recommend it to you. Click here for the article. (their photo too.)
When you read it, note the hundreds and hundreds of comments it generated in its first days. That should give you an idea of how sensitive this issue is.
It is astounding to see how the world has changed, and also to see a pattern of commentary that shows some folks stuck in the past and others racing ahead of where we are.
Any sea change in social structure tends to follow the same course. Think of the resistance to women wearing pants, or becoming capable leaders, or showing their elbows in public, or getting the vote.
The most amusing thing about all this is that people look at what their life was like, what their parents did, and perhaps what their grandparents did and think they know all of history – enough for sure to judge what’s normal and socially acceptable.
The truth is that boys wore frilly tops and skirts, the same as girls, for many years and in many cultures in previous centuries.
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Last night, I went out to a club and had a great time.
It was nice to be out, meeting new people, flirting, laughing, dancing…
Coming as it did on the (high) heels of having spent the better part of the day out and about, it seems to have obliterated all the angst of feeling my feminine self being put upon by the practicalities of everyday life.
It’s like, “Oh, yeah! So that’s what I love about my life as Janie!”
It is a bit surprising that on some level, I can actually forget. I feel like I am missing something (see Backsliding), but that’s mixed with a bit of a search for what exactly that something is, and then an “Is it all worth it?”
I have to remind myself that my experiences as a woman have had a surreptitiously profound effect on my spirit – something I discovered a while back but seem sometimes to put out of mind.
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