The first time I realized I had choices about any of this stuff beyond, like, pants vs. skirt, was in the mid-nineties, age 15, when I was practicing with my chamber quartet on a grassy lawn on a hot day, and noticed the cellist's hairy legs under her skirt. Tiny mind blown.
The aesthetic I'm attracted to revolves around some loose concept of "competence." Handsome, fitted, practical, cuts I can move in, boots I can run in. Neutral to soft butch, I guess? I often get grumpy trying to shop for the colours I want, because most years all my favourite heathery autumnals are in the men's section, and I am a wiry 5'6".
So for me, a cis woman, the few slinky dresses in the back of the closet are my gender sprinkles. Every few years I am invited to a wedding or something, and take a certain pleasure in strapping on my heels (well padded with moleskin) and sashaying around, like, "Hee hee hee, betcha didn't know I could!"
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Date: 2022-11-25 09:51 pm (UTC)The first time I realized I had choices about any of this stuff beyond, like, pants vs. skirt, was in the mid-nineties, age 15, when I was practicing with my chamber quartet on a grassy lawn on a hot day, and noticed the cellist's hairy legs under her skirt. Tiny mind blown.
The aesthetic I'm attracted to revolves around some loose concept of "competence." Handsome, fitted, practical, cuts I can move in, boots I can run in. Neutral to soft butch, I guess? I often get grumpy trying to shop for the colours I want, because most years all my favourite heathery autumnals are in the men's section, and I am a wiry 5'6".
So for me, a cis woman, the few slinky dresses in the back of the closet are my gender sprinkles. Every few years I am invited to a wedding or something, and take a certain pleasure in strapping on my heels (well padded with moleskin) and sashaying around, like, "Hee hee hee, betcha didn't know I could!"