shopping in my closet

lately i've been thinking a lot about clothing.

i've gone through many wardrobe changes in my life - i like to imagine them as different costumes for the different roles i've had to play. there were the first years - lacy, frilly, all matching, already refusing to eat - a nice, sweet little pollyanna. innocent, and sexualized. i was loved. then i got older, fatter, more interested in lots of colors and loud, clashing patterns . i like to call this my punky brewster phase - a personal fav. but, i was "ugly" (ie - no longer a doll) and so - unloved. this realization brought on the stlye-depressed, no-interest-in-clothes-or-appearance phase - unloved and now invisible. i soon realized i was never going to get anywhere being the "ugly" girl, stopped eating all-together and wore all belly shirts, synthetic bright orange and brown shirts that clung to my body and the perfume "charlie's white" (after my father's name). i wasn't loved... but i was sexy again. high school brought on the all-american girl phase (otherwise known as i-want-to-be-like-andie-mcphee-from-"dawson's creek" phase) - loved. in college it was 50's style dresses with white sneakers (while i dreamed of pumps) - loved. JCrew perfection - loved. all-black-all-the-time depression (opposite of the pollyanna i started with) -unloved but sexy. and finally the pop-punk pierced eyebrow with dyed hair phase (the grown-up punky brewster!) -unloved, and sexy.

all of these styles... and i just couldn't cut it! perhaps i wasn't meant to be a woman, i thought. everything i wore, every look i made got me a role to live out. i was either the loved but non-self-empowered girl next door waiting for the right man, the "ugly" invisible girl, or unloved but interesting and skanky slut. virgin/whore complex with an invisible in between.

i felt like screaming - i can't be a woman!! i HATE being a woman!! it's too complicated!!! i felt so restricted, constrained, like so many essential parts of me were completely wiped out by virtue of my gender. i didn't even KNOW what i wanted anymore, let alone how to get it. i began a quest to uncover my own sexuality, finally coming out as a lesbian. but this only served to make my style more androgynous, because all the dykes i knew (which were... looking back... a very limited few) were too cool for femininity. i swore off all things feminine - stopped shaving my legs and armpits, shaved off all the hair on my head (which actually made me more feminine - which i secretly loved!), cast away all makeup, dresses, perfume, jewelry and cute shoes that i owned (the HORROR)- all the things i loved and cherished. i felt i could finally be visible and valued, if only i dressed more like a man.

but where was my vision of me in all of this? where was i?

i was - hiding. simultaneously trying to embrace and dress away from my femininity, and - in turn - my sexuality.

as a little girl i was very aware of the attention i received for being tiny, cute and well-dressed, as well as the societal expectations that went a long with it. good girls wore pastels, lace and matching shoe-purse combinations. good girls had high voices that were never shrill or demanding, always soft and musical. good girls had blonde hair. good girls had bodies that were visible to and owned by others, but never themselves. good girls gave their selves to those who needed them. good girls never talked about what good girls do.

from all the eroticizing looks and harassment i received for my body and the way i dressed (even before i dressed myself) - i learned i had two choices as woman. either dress away from your body and be worthless - or dress to your body and be powerless. the years i dressed feminine brought approval, fetishizing and a internalized fear of being found out - i was not as perfect/put-together/innocent/naive/weak/giggly/helpless as i was supposed to be! the years i dressed sexy brought visibility, pride and a paralyzing fear of what i would have to do in my new role as "whore". the years i dressed down, when all i wanted was to disappear from beneath those eyes that were always staring and undressing, these years gave a marked difference in attention. i was the committer of the ultimate crime as a woman, being "ugly". this made me completely invisible, showing me that my worth lay entirely in my ability to attract (and keep) sexual attention.

when i began to come to terms with my sexuality - realized i actually did have desire and could act on that desire - i decided to dress where i saw the power to be all along - in masculinity. i incorrectly assumed that the only way i could gain power was to entirely cut off my femininity and embrace the masculinity that had dominated me in the past. i tried to become less female, more male.

i realized that there was no safe or right choice. when i was visible as a feminine person, my body and psyche were in danger. when i was invisible (ie - "ugly") my worth as a person was attacked and dismissed. when i tried to reclaim my own desire - i could see no other way of doing it then by looking like the people who had taken it away in the first place, the people who seemed to have all the power.

the desire, the longing (so deep in me) to embrace femininity - by my own definitions and meanings, was a danger to my self. the lived experience that femininity is simultaneously despised by and hungered for by others - the feeling when a person looks right through you and sees only the societal markings of your clothing and your body - they way people make choices on how to treat you based solely on how they react to what they see. these are experiences that come up again and again for me.

how can i be present in my presentation of myself? how can i redefine the meanings that have become synonymous with my clothing choices, my way of celebrating and presenting my body in the world? how can i feel powerful in a flowery skirt? loud in an elegant black dress? playful and shy in a sexy, red slip dress?

i can re-claim my femininity - call myself femme - but that is only the beginnings of breaking down the stereotypes surrounding it, inhabiting it, inhabiting me. i want to wear a skirt just for the experience of wearing, and being seen in, a skirt - and not have to deal with the automatic assumptions and oppressive power dynamics that so often go hand-in-hand with that. i want the power to make my own identity, to craft my own meanings. i want to embrace my femininity and my sexuality - and not lose my self in the process.