another clothing rant
So what i didn't write yesterday because i was cranky is that we're finally moving out. In a week's time we'll be leaving Jewtown for Greektown, going from upper to lower middle class, mansion to basement. But it's going to be our basement. We will no longer have a Wal-Mart within walking distance, but we will have restaurants, fruit stores and 7/11s. It's pretty exciting!
That also means tonight is the last time i feel obligated to go to a Friday night dinner. No doubt we'll be expected to turn up to many more, but living over an hour away on public transport is a reasonable excuse to miss a random dinner. J looks very pretty tonight and wants me to get dressed up too, but it's summer for fuck's sake.
Since 2001 i've had people try to get me to broaden my clothing horizons. Exes, friends, a bride, my dad, even my grandmother-in-law. And every time i go shopping miserable and every time i come out with something that i'm sure makes me look gorgeous in theory and every time i wear it once or twice for them and then it's back to tank tops.
The dirty secret they don't tell you at trannie school is that most women's clothing just isn't comfortable. If you try run for the subway or do pretty much anything active shit snags or restricts you or falls off because it's designed to be tip-toed around in like some goddamn princess. If you go out in the sun or work up a sweat in other ways it clings and doesn't hang right any more. When you're bloated, something that used to fit suddenly doesn't. It fucking sucks. I mean it's bad enough you gotta start with wearing the most uncomfortable piece of clothing ever invented (a bra), much less cover it up with even more uncomfortable stuff. I don't care if i look like a million bucks, just because it's not leaving physical marks doesn't mean it's any less torture. They should fucking waterboard Jean-Paul Gaultier.
Though actually i love haute couture. Vogue was my favorite magazine back before the days of me doing everything on the internet. But that's about the photography and the models and the colors and the lines - it's art, it's not really supposed to be practical. Fucking Old Navy, on the other hand, that's supposed to be comfortable, right? Maybe it is and it's just my oogly ogre body that makes clothes that are comfortable on everyone else uncomfortable on me.
You know, for my wedding i made the sacrifice to wear something not 100% comfortable because i wanted to have hot photos (and what a waste of time that turned out to be). For something important like a job interview or for a photo shoot i would do it again. But to get dressed up in uncomfortable bullshit every day, or even every Friday night... Man, i prefer to make myself look good with make-up and hair (when i can afford it). Right now i'm wearing my "bad" bra because the good one is in the laundry. It's making me want to kill someone. If i had to wear some silky form-fitted bullshit on top i think i'd end the spree by topping myself too. Motherfuck.
That also means tonight is the last time i feel obligated to go to a Friday night dinner. No doubt we'll be expected to turn up to many more, but living over an hour away on public transport is a reasonable excuse to miss a random dinner. J looks very pretty tonight and wants me to get dressed up too, but it's summer for fuck's sake.
Since 2001 i've had people try to get me to broaden my clothing horizons. Exes, friends, a bride, my dad, even my grandmother-in-law. And every time i go shopping miserable and every time i come out with something that i'm sure makes me look gorgeous in theory and every time i wear it once or twice for them and then it's back to tank tops.
The dirty secret they don't tell you at trannie school is that most women's clothing just isn't comfortable. If you try run for the subway or do pretty much anything active shit snags or restricts you or falls off because it's designed to be tip-toed around in like some goddamn princess. If you go out in the sun or work up a sweat in other ways it clings and doesn't hang right any more. When you're bloated, something that used to fit suddenly doesn't. It fucking sucks. I mean it's bad enough you gotta start with wearing the most uncomfortable piece of clothing ever invented (a bra), much less cover it up with even more uncomfortable stuff. I don't care if i look like a million bucks, just because it's not leaving physical marks doesn't mean it's any less torture. They should fucking waterboard Jean-Paul Gaultier.
Though actually i love haute couture. Vogue was my favorite magazine back before the days of me doing everything on the internet. But that's about the photography and the models and the colors and the lines - it's art, it's not really supposed to be practical. Fucking Old Navy, on the other hand, that's supposed to be comfortable, right? Maybe it is and it's just my oogly ogre body that makes clothes that are comfortable on everyone else uncomfortable on me.
You know, for my wedding i made the sacrifice to wear something not 100% comfortable because i wanted to have hot photos (and what a waste of time that turned out to be). For something important like a job interview or for a photo shoot i would do it again. But to get dressed up in uncomfortable bullshit every day, or even every Friday night... Man, i prefer to make myself look good with make-up and hair (when i can afford it). Right now i'm wearing my "bad" bra because the good one is in the laundry. It's making me want to kill someone. If i had to wear some silky form-fitted bullshit on top i think i'd end the spree by topping myself too. Motherfuck.