MOOP!

So yesterday I went to go see Furiosa [no spoilers in this entry], after mentioning in passing to work-bestie Clayton that I wanted to see it in theatres, and him going “oh yeah, me and Angela(wife) want to see it too, wanna go together on Friday?” I am powerless in the face of other people actually making plans for me for things I want to do, so I added jere7my to the order, and the four of us met up and had a jolly time.

Of course I dressed up. I wasn’t going to dress up all the way, I was planning to do just something funny to my hair, but then...the rest of it happened.



[image description: A selfie of a white person wearing glasses posing with their hand below their chin. They are wearing black lipstick and extremely messy and overdone black eyeshadow smearing across their face. Their hair is braided with several metal rings, and they are wearing a thicker metal ring as a necklace. Their top appears to be a combination of black binder, orange net scarf, and black bike tubes, while they are wearing several copper and green bracelets.]



[image description: A white person wearing glasses and posing in a doorway. They are wearing mad max inspired clothing in shades of brown and orange, with many belt pouches and extra scarves. They have black makeup smeared over their eyes, and a large metal ring as a necklace. Their hair is braided with many more rings and partly pinned up over their head. They have a leather jacket with many (currently unreadable) activist patches on it.]

And so I arrived slightly before jere7my and Clayton and Angela express delight over my outfit and I preen and say something like “yeah, I dressed up for Barbie too”¹. And honestly it’s...it’s kindof an interesting and fun thing about my life right now that I’ve seen two movies in theatres in the last year, and dressed up for both of them. Maybe I always dress up for movies now? Maybe if a movie is worth seeing, it’s worth seeing as absurdly and dramatically as possible?

It’s funny because my regular-type friends probably all know by now that I have a discerning eye for fashion and actually do think a lot about How Best To Look Cute, including doing things with my hair and my makeup and my earrings and what have you. I don’t dress up for bells _every_ week, but I definitely dress up some of the weeks, and if I’m going to other things that aren’t bells, I’m gonna think about what I want to wear.

But Clayton, despite being yes a regular-type-friend is also a work-friend and so the context he sees me in most often...isn’t that. He sees me in my work drag, binder and collared shirt and slacks with very little variance. It’s not that I don’t _like_ my work clothes –I have several hawaiin shirts I wear that I’m fond of, and sometimes I do vest and/or tie—it’s just that they’re not...me. They are not particularly fancy or wild or interesting.

And that’s sortof sad and sortof unfortunate and sortof weird and sortof nice? I mean, it’s certainly nice to have less thought required for getting dressed on work days, even if I don’t think of the clothing as “me”. But it’s interesting to have figured out that I do actually care quite a bit about style and looking good –I remain so proud of my Beantown Stomp outfit where I got compliments on literally every article I was wearing visibly- and then to spend so much of my life not actually in that space.

Which is why I just have to dress up extra hard the rest of the time. Because my body isn’t a temple, it’s a canvas and I am here to play.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Clayton gets points for immediately bouncing back with “like that?!” because yes very good, very funny.