It’s the question they keep coming to when we come out to someone. It’s also the question that we struggle with the most. No matter how we respond, it seems woefully inadequate. I could go on and on for an hour or for a lifetime and still never really provide a satisfactory or clear answer. The temptation to reply with “it just feels right”, is always there, but again, it comes off as too short, too simple to describe an enormous, important part of who we are.
When we are en femme, we dress to reflect who we are. Well, more specifically, who we are when are her. It is impossible to represent who I am with just one outfit or look. But isn’t that the fun part? Despite the contrast in these outfits below, this is me.
And I am everything in-between.
I dress for the occasion, whether it is running errands or going to a play. I love that we can be bombshells or wear leggings to blend in with the other girls at the mall. I understand and relate to wanting to look sexy, to look beautiful, to dress in latex and turn every head at a club. I get that. I want that, too.
Well, maybe not a club, but a coffee shop will do.
The magic of “girl’s clothes” has been there from the start. Whether it is a five inch stiletto or a simple ballet flat, the enormous variety of shoe options is there. A little black dress, a jean skirt, yoga pants and a cardigan, our dressers and wardrobes are filled with choices and we have an outfit for every occasion and for every single mood.
We dress to reflect how we feel. If I am feeling *amazing* then out comes a leather dress and black patent heels. If I am feeling ugly and I need to snap out of it, I dress in the prettiest dress I have. Magic is real and it’s hanging in our closets.
I have been who I am long enough to know that for the most part this side of us is not able to be explained. It’s just who we are. We were born this way. I can’t explain who I am, or why I am to anyone. I can try, and they might get it, but I never feel I can effectively express the simplicity or how deeply this side of me is ingrained in who I am.
When accessibility to the internet became a thing, the first thing I did was look for information about crossdressing. Whether it was just knowing that there were indeed others like me or looking for size charts converting shoe sizes, I wanted to know I wasn’t alone.
And my god, I wasn’t. And you aren’t either. We never were.
The transcommuity is filled with as many ways to identify as there are types of shoes. Whether we identify as a drag queen or a crossdresser or gender fluid, there are many ways we can label ourselves. Not that we need to or should label ourselves, but I think there are many of us who are comforted that there is a word out there for who we are.
Sometimes I go back and forth between wondering if I am trans because I wear panties and lipstick or if I wear eyeliner and dresses because I am trans. I will never know. Chicken or the egg. I am sure there is an answer but I am way too much to think about and do to spend time settling on an answer.
Regardless, I am in love with clothes. I can look at an outfit and think about how much it would be to wear it. It could be a wedding dress or a pleated skirt, I love it all. I love costumes, I love little black dresses, I love evening gowns and sundresses. I love silk and I love leather.
We know the power of clothes better than anyone. We know the emotional attachment and the magnetic draw to an outfit more than most. A dress, mascara, a corset can, and does, represent a connection and a link to ourselves, our true selves, our other selves in a way that is unimaginable and indescribable.
We can’t change who we are. We shouldn’t.
We can’t express with words who we are. But our clothes can.
Although this can change over the course of a lifetime or throughout a weekend it’s always fun to think about who we are.
Who are you? A bombshell? A princess? The girl next door?