Gender Roles Need Not Apply

By Atlas Wylde

One of my earliest childhood memories was asking my mom why I had to wear a girly sweater with a teddy bear on it for our family photo when both of my brothers got to wear turtlenecks. It was the kind of photo you'd see on old-school print Christmas cards that were mailed to family members - the kind you used to be able to take in the back corner of JC Penney's. I pushed back on being put in clothes that I considered girly, and seemed to know intuitively that something about it didn't feel like "me." I was always a little bit of a weirdo (and I mean this so lovingly) among my peers and my family members. It took me another 7 years to come out as queer, and 6 more after that before I realized I was trans, and identified as nonbinary.

After coming out in 7th grade at the age of 12, that feeling of "I don't like this," about girly clothing changed, and I started to feel deeply uncomfortable. It's an age where you're starting to notice that others can perceive you for the first time, and how you dress communicates something to them. School dances were a special point of contention because I didn't want to miss out on the fun, and I also didn't want to go and be seen in a dress. Most of the time I took a "grin and bear it" approach, but by high school I was done wearing "girl's clothes" altogether.

It happened mostly by accident, but one year when my mom and I were shopping at Old Navy for back-to-school clothes, there was a "girl's" pair of jeans being marketed as "boyfriend cut." They were straight legged, slightly loose at the waist, relaxed denim with the distressed patches that were classic to the era. I was able to get my mom to buy them for me because they were in the "girl's" section, but it immediately became a problem afterward - those were the only pants I would wear! Every single day, no matter the occasion, I wore those pants until they were absolutely threadbare. And once the distressed patches of white strings broke and became just open holes, I also started wearing patterned boxers underneath that were visible through the holes in the thighs. My mother could not stand that I wanted to "dress like a boy," and she told me she wouldn't be buying me clothes anymore unless it was clothing "for a girl."

Coincidentally, that was the summer I turned 15, and when I fought back about this, my mom told me "if you want to dress like a boy, you can get a job and pay for your own clothes." I'm glad she said that, because it might not have occurred to me that I would have the freedom to wear whatever I wanted if I got a job, so that's exactly what I did. In the Summer I would work at the local pool, save up my money, and then get dropped off at the mall with my friends. I'd buy "boy's" clothes from Zumiez, PacSun, Vans and Hot Topic. I mostly wore black band tees, but I also experimented with polos, button-downs, flannels, hats, cargo shorts, and men's tanks.

I had so much will within me to rebel against the feminine socialization of my upbringing that at times, I feel I overcorrected. There were periods of time where the pants and shirts I wore were so baggy and shapeless I'd see pictures of myself and just feel lost in my clothes, unsure how to present the image that I wanted, the one I had in my mind. I dated women who wanted me to dress in certain ways, wearing more streetwear for example, or paying closer attention to trends, and I tried these things and learned from them, but they still failed to feel like "me."

What really allowed me to lean into my personal style was realizing that all things "girly" and "feminine" did not need to be off the table completely. I am nonbinary and I do experience some gender dysphoria, so it's always felt important to me to dress in a way that reduced focus on my chest and on my hips - parts of my body that I didn't feel comfortable with in part because they felt "feminine" to me. As I grew in my own understanding of myself, I learned that I could play with and subvert expectations around traditionally "feminine" clothing and accessories, as well as create a lightness in my approach to masculinity that didn't cause it to feel like such a heavy burden or a disguise.

Allowing my gender to be EXACTLY what it is - completely forgetting and disregarding social messages around what I ~should~ wear and how I ~should~ act - has freed me in a way I didn't know was possible, and opened up parts of my fashion journey I hadn't explored yet at all. I began to play with jewelry and learned that I love wearing rings; I started shopping in the women's section at thrift stores again, seeking out those cool one-off items that I could tie into my wardrobe. I am in my Pink Era, obsessed with and buying things in all shades of pink and wearing them without shame because I realized that pink actually ~doesn't~ look feminine on me, because it's on ME!

In April 2023 I once again completed National Poetry Writing Month, finishing 30 poems in 30 days. There is a poem from this collection that has been speaking to me lately called "you know?" The last two lines in particular stand out to me when it comes to my fashion journey:

I didn't even get weird with it before

so I'm just kind of excited for the weird with it part

As I continue to learn how to feel lightness and joy connected to my clothing, as I continue to feel braver and more bold to take risks and to step out as unapologetically ME, I have a real and true sense that my inner weirdo is about to emerge, and that what it brings with it from a fashion perspective is going to be "me" in a way that no brand, no style, no trend, and no set of gender-prescribed appropriate clothing items could ever possible contain or describe. I can feel myself, right now, poised on the ledge. For this weirdo, the fashion journey has truly just begun.