Miss Transgender Beauty Pageant
Last Friday my mom took me to the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco to see a beauty pageant. The company she works for was a corporate sponsor of the event so she got free tickets and thoughtfully invited me. Driving toward the venue my head was filling with sacrilicious thoughts of what P. Sean or even Rosha would think if they knew I was going to a Miss Trans-Globe Pageant.
When I arrived I grew self-conscious about my manly-man legs and broad shoulders and wondered if everyone knew what I was. I mean, I wondered what I looked like. Did I look like a born girl, or a boy trying to pass as a girl, or gay or straight or both or what? Some people there were obviously men dressing as women (those poor American linebacker men that are 6ft. 10in. in striped tube dresses and a blonde wig) but generally the hair and make up was so good and the asian men so slender and petite that I found myself questioning every single person I saw, especially in the audience (there had been a lot of lgbtiqqa - lesbian gay bisexual transgender intersex queer questioning and allies, in the audience.) The only people whose sex I knew for sure were the ladies... men... ladies on stage. And my own sex. I think.
The contestants were HOT. I would be proud to look like them this Christmas in my knit bikini. I wondered what it would feel like to be a straight man and finding myself desiring them. Interesting. And of course it was all flavored with that good-natured Pilipino humor; "Welcome fellow citizens, permanent residents, and illegal aliens!" or "Introducing Ms. Malaysia... her ambition in life is to be a housemaid in Iraq!" and my mom and I had a good time together laughing at all those stupid jokes or even just the grammar gaffes. Later on I was a little confused about whether or not I should be approving of this event. I would have been horrified if the contest had been for women and stamped it with that usual "patriarchal fetishization of the oppressed other" stamp I keep in my huge purse but Krista says that the contest is okay because it was countercultural or something. I understood a little and I agree with her. I'll post pictures of last year's event so you'll all get to see how good the costumes were.
On another note my roommate Tasia is so funnily lovely! She told me recently that she loves the tummy rolls on women, the little pudge flap hanging over the belt buckle. AND that braces were in and made people look cute. AND that my calves were awesome. I giggled and told her to shut up.
When I arrived I grew self-conscious about my manly-man legs and broad shoulders and wondered if everyone knew what I was. I mean, I wondered what I looked like. Did I look like a born girl, or a boy trying to pass as a girl, or gay or straight or both or what? Some people there were obviously men dressing as women (those poor American linebacker men that are 6ft. 10in. in striped tube dresses and a blonde wig) but generally the hair and make up was so good and the asian men so slender and petite that I found myself questioning every single person I saw, especially in the audience (there had been a lot of lgbtiqqa - lesbian gay bisexual transgender intersex queer questioning and allies, in the audience.) The only people whose sex I knew for sure were the ladies... men... ladies on stage. And my own sex. I think.
The contestants were HOT. I would be proud to look like them this Christmas in my knit bikini. I wondered what it would feel like to be a straight man and finding myself desiring them. Interesting. And of course it was all flavored with that good-natured Pilipino humor; "Welcome fellow citizens, permanent residents, and illegal aliens!" or "Introducing Ms. Malaysia... her ambition in life is to be a housemaid in Iraq!" and my mom and I had a good time together laughing at all those stupid jokes or even just the grammar gaffes. Later on I was a little confused about whether or not I should be approving of this event. I would have been horrified if the contest had been for women and stamped it with that usual "patriarchal fetishization of the oppressed other" stamp I keep in my huge purse but Krista says that the contest is okay because it was countercultural or something. I understood a little and I agree with her. I'll post pictures of last year's event so you'll all get to see how good the costumes were.
On another note my roommate Tasia is so funnily lovely! She told me recently that she loves the tummy rolls on women, the little pudge flap hanging over the belt buckle. AND that braces were in and made people look cute. AND that my calves were awesome. I giggled and told her to shut up.