Butch Friday

Meeting Challenge for Tuesday, April 17

sandperson:

Beginner: “This pup tent needs about six more poles in it or it’s never going to stand.”

Advanced: “We don’t need to brown the whole marshmallow of this topic. Just set one end on fire.”

Bonus: “Let’s bang some pans together and see how many squirrels we can wake up.”

A butch suit

I’m experiencing what must be a classic butch dilemma, the moment in my career where I have an important meeting for which I need to look professional, and sharp and I need to decide just how much gender to bend.

I shop in the men’s section, no big surprise, and often at H&M - and most times if I have to try stuff on and mix and match, I had gone in with my partner, or a femme like my little sister Anthea. But last week, I found myself alone and needing to get a suit (which I knew would need tailoring to fit my butchy physique) for the meeting I have scheduled for tomorrow. Now I have suits, but with the recent break-up weight loss, I look like I’m wearing my dad’s clothes, and while they have classic lines, I like the new, two-button jacket with a vest look, and wanted to update anyway. So I bravely walked into H&M, by myself, and found the suit I wanted to work, and sucked up my courage to go out on my own and trust my own sense of butch style. Instead of asking the fabulous femme that usually comes and stands close-by in case I need moral support or fashion consultation, I stepped out of my change room and asked the man and woman working there what they thought about my choice in jacket size - and they didn’t miss a beat. They agreed with my choice to go with the smaller, tighter fitting jacket and vest for a cleaner line. I acknowledged the choice I was making having to do with a butch’s body in a suit made for men, it was banterful, it was light, and it was helpful. I can’t help thinking that every time one of my fellow butches goes into one of these stores and does the same thing, you make it safer for people like me to engage the same staff - who just roll with it because you’ve been there and done that before me. And I’m grateful - for all you other butches in suits. 

Now it’s the day before the meeting, the pants are hemmed, the suit will be pressed and ready to go. I’ve got the last minute nerves about what shirt and whether to go with a tie or not but I’m feeling pretty good about as one wonderful femme put it, “Being butch, being stylin’, and being proud.”