It Aint About the Clothes

It really isn’t. Like all women, I love to shop too. Finding the perfect top to match a skirt in my closet is one of life’s pleasures, but I’ve been reading other ladies blogs. They talk about the clothes they wore at one event or another. I envy their outfits and the fact they can wear certain things.

Suffice it to say, I’m old, and I’m overweight. I dress my age and for my comfort. After all, if I don’t feel at ease in my clothes, what’s the point? I’ve read posts and heard the axiom, “It’s not about the clothes.” That’s true, but I admit, it used to be. Back when a few minutes of feminine expression had to be enough to last until I could, again, grab a few minutes with my stash.

Now the life I should’ve had is replacing my former one. I sometimes wear his underwear. It makes me feel a little like a tomboy, but it doesn’t feel like cross-dressing. I’ve learned however it doesn’t really matter. In my quest for the perfect pair of blue jeans, I’ve noticed very few differences between women’s and men’s but I prefer the crotch in women’s, also the fly on the other side reminds me of who I am. With the right foundation garments, I can wear either, and still be true to myself. 

I might look a bit frumpy but I’m a trans woman, no matter what I wear.

“But, I don’t wear pants,” you say, and I don’t blame you. There are cis-gender women who don’t either. I do, but then I remember the revolution over whether girls could wear pants at school or not. I love frilly outfits as much as the next girl, but most of my dresses emphasize my belly. If I dress up to go to out, or to church, I usually wear a skirt with a camp shirt. Or a peasant style top. So, usually, I wear pants and tops that cover my waistline.

When I finally succeed in dropping 4 (or more) sizes, I will wear more dresses, but until that happens, I am the minimal woman. I’m the girl that guys feel comfortable with. It’s easier than tossing all of his clothes anyway.