Shifting perceptions

Last night, I went to a potluck. I am part of a group of feminists made up of trans women and trans-positive lesbians. It's really open to any feminist who likes our somewhat cheeky approach, but so far it seems to be queer women who show up. We share food, and then we have a meeting about whatever activism we have going on, such as the upcoming Transgender Day of Remembrance.

I often like to dress somewhat nicely for these potlucks, not fancy but something other than jeans. It's that idea of not defaulting to jeans when a skirt or dress is also a possibility. Others often dress nicely as well. So I wore a black sweater dress with a skinny white belt and amethyst beads, opaque grey tights, and black calf boots with heels. I've had that dress for a few years, and I've worn the outfit more than a few times. I wore it on the night I first came out at school, at the end of 2007.

Since it's a winter dress, I hadn't worn it since last year. And the first thing that struck me when I put it on is, OMG, this dress is short. I had never thought that before about this dress. The tights are really opaque, so there was nothing inappropriate about the outfit, and I have legs worth showing off. When Sweetie and I went to see Gossip a few weeks back, I wore a really short denim mini with sparkly opaque tights, so it's not like I don't wear short things. But something about this dress, as opposed to short skirts or other short dresses I have, struck me as not quite right for me any more. Not to the point of being uncomfortable, but something I was aware of.

When I first starting wearing dresses and skirts and such, I had to figure out what looked good on me and what didn't. I'm a non-curvy woman in her 50s who looks 40, but 40 is not 30 and certainly not 20. In the early days, depending on what I chose to wear, I could look more like a old drag queen than a woman. Nothing against drag queens, even older ones, but for me, yuck! There was also that impulse to go for overtly sexy, even slutty, which I think tends to happen when a woman-born-male-bodied first realizes that she can finally be an object of desire. It was a male impulse to make myself into that which once turned me on.

Over time, I learned better and grew past those faux pas. The male impulse went away. That was significant in my overall transition, not just in clothing choices. I found that the changes in what I wanted to wear were a reflection of my growing sense of myself as a woman, an actual women, not a man's idea of what a woman is.

I always want to look my best, given my particular assets or lack thereof. I want to look pretty and sexy. I am no slave to "age appropriate," but at my age, subtly sexy works best. So periodically I go through my closet to toss things in the giveaway bag—not only things I no longer wear but also those "what was I thinking" items and other items that worked for a time, or seemed to, but no longer work. When shopping, I have a better eye for what looks good on me. I don't think I've bought one of those "what was I thinking" items in quite a while.

It's interesting to notice the shift in what attracts me now in women. I respond to classy, fashionable (but not necessarily trendy), stylish, feminine. I don't think I can describe exactly what those are for me, but I can point out the look when I see it on the street. It's an instant, oh, she looks really nice. It's a put-together look—clothes, shoes, accessories, like Vogue editor Anna Wintour, above. It's a look I want to emulate. It can be expensive (oh, I do have champagne taste, especially in shoes), but it doesn't have to be. It's more about a certain flare for how things, even inexpensive things, work well together.

I don't think the sweater dress has to go, but I think it's more a tunic now than a dress. Leggings or even pants with it instead of tights, unless the circumstances are right (last night was fine). I don't think I'm getting prudish. I'm still looking forward to being able to wear my bikinis when I'm post-op and the swelling has gone down. I still love slipping out in short-shorts during the summer when my partner isn't looking, and that denim mini is still in my drawer. But now, I feel I'm thinking like a woman when it comes to clothing choices, as indeed I'm thinking like a woman in everything. And that's a wonderful feeling.

C'est chic!