Rebellion of Conditional Clothing

I recently discovered the "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast and have been binge-listening since the full moon. In the "BEAUTY" episode, Glennon and Amanda Doyle discuss the gendered expectations of women presenting in this world, what is or isn't (said and unsaid to be) acceptable for a women to do in regards to her appearance-- including the societal and sometimes unspoken expectation of women prioritizing their appearance and "kicking her ass to look hot for men."

Societal expectations fall into the archetype of the "trickster," in my mind. The trickster seems to me as witty, humorous, heroic or confusing, even... I think of a jester, a magician, and other characters who bend my mind into a loop of questioning. I understand this archetype to lie in liminal spaces of transition, or eerie-ness-- a shapeless figure in suburban streets just after dusk, or what you thought was a shadow in your periphery; Yet when you snap your head towards it, nothing is there.

We do not need to explicitly hear the words of what is expected of us as women to know how to "play the game." In my experience, rarely do people say "look beautiful, sexy, and put together. But also natural, gentle, and not too threatening of power." Though I've heard my fair share of the words: "just sit there and look pretty," and "bat your eyelashes and a man will come to help you." Patriarchal society expectations of women are often very tricky.

My personal rebellion against these unspoken rules of presenting as a woman in American patriarchal society has included a lot of what my mother referred to as a "ragamuffin" when I was a child, and "pot-heady" when I was a teen: Un-brushed hair, un-combed eyebrows, oversized tie-dye tees, really anything to set me apart from that properly put together look. Until the last year or so, a lot of my "conditional clothing rebellion" has been an unconscious act. But when I started working in a finance office during my self-proclaimed journey of "Coming Home to Myself" with a support of self-awareness through daily meditation and frequent journaling, I began to recognize my subconscious rebellion through the way I dress when my sense of Self begins to feel threatened.

In a financial office with cubicles and gray walls, this rebellion looked like what I referred to as "riding the line of the dress code:" 70's inspired floral blazers, my naked face, pentacle pendants laying on my tattooed chest, crystal bracelets lining my wrists, mini braids throughout my hair, all-black, all-leather fits, tie-dyed jeans on casual fridays, and skirts that were short enough to catch eyes, but too long to reveal anything. I knew that for someone in my office to tell me my outfits were inappropriate was highly unlikely, yet I wonder if part of me was silently wishing someone would dare to spill words of the unspoken agreement of what "business professional" was for a woman in a 9-5 setting. They did however, on many occasions, talk about "clarifying the dress code" in staff meetings, which just made me play dress-up bigger.

I recognize that as an identifying woman, I've been conditioned throughout my life to care about clothing and appearance, to enjoy shopping, playing dress-up and painting my face with colors. And I've learned through experience that dressing the way I truly want-- comfortable, longer shorts, larger t shirts, basically how I dressed when my mom stopped setting out my outfits for me when I was maybe 10-- feels "unacceptable" or "disapproving" for a 26-year old woman. This is mostly due to the fact that I feel otherly when I am in long shorts and a tee shirt at the apple orchard with my dolled-up sisters in the midst of Michigan Autumn, or in tie-dyed shorts and a cutoff tank at a BBQ with girls in bikinis and gold chained necklaces. Sometimes I love that "otherly" feeling, when I am in an environment of which I have no desire to be apart. It is, I've found, my way of rebelling those structures and systems in which I find myself.

For a long time, I did not realize I was doing it, which is why I deem it as "unconscious rebellion." Not brushing my hair to rebel my mother's longing to control my appearance. Wearing pentacles in a finance office to rebel what I sensed to be a "good, christian company." Not wearing a bra at 18-years-old to the Christmas church service, to rebel purity culture's control of women's bodies and sexual beingness. And yet, I look back at the school picture of me when I first began dressing myself at 10 years old: a threaded friendship bracelet-style choker around my neck, unevenly cut hair (after playing beauty salon with my sister, obviously), and a rainbow tie-dye tee with butterflies across the chest. Who I was, before societal conditionings seeped their way into my sweet, intelligent brain.

In recognizing my conditional love for clothing and playing dress-up, I recognize my conscious and unconscious rebellion of beauty "standards" and the control of women's bodies in Patriarchal culture. Perhaps a part of me wants my clothing choices to earn some second glances or up-downs from peers, or perhaps I've just had enough, and want to dress my own way. Sometimes it hurts my feelings to be glared at from a woman who seems to hold confusion while seeing my clothing choices while walking the same path to the same coffee shop, in her striped and strappy, spring jumpsuit. And sometimes that same glare lights a flame of empowerment within me, an active and joyous rebellion of systems that which I so deeply long to grow my desire to destruct. Not to mention, most of the time I feel safer when passing men when they don't look at me even once.

When I dress in ways that do not feel so much like a performance or trying so hard, I often notice, simultaneously, how comfortable I feel in my body and my personality, and the lack of pretty privilege inspiring others to treat me as worthy-- of kindness, of assistance, of respect and "you're next in line," or a generous smile shared from another. This flaring awareness causes me to question: Must I choose between fitting myself and fitting my environment? (The answer is, fortunately and unfortunately, yes.) In my choosing to fit myself before fitting another, will I lose the ease of moving through life in ways that clearly reward me when I do choose to fit the environment, the systems, the structures, instead of fitting myself? (Unfortunately and fortunately, the answer is also yes.)

The Trickster archetype can also be someone or something who breaks conventional "rules," who rides the line of liminal spaces or the in-between... A boundary-crosser. Perhaps I can challenge society's trickster games of controlling women's bodies and appearances, by being a trickster myself?

In my refusal to submit myself to patriarchal-inspired "requirements" for women, am I opening myself up to possible mis-treatment, disapproving looks or condescending comments from others? Am I resisting the systems with which I want nothing to do? Am I empowering myself and others to do the same? Am I making the patriarchy uncomfortable? Am I making women who (understandably so,) choose to play the game uncomfortable? I feel, deep within my heart, the answer to all of these questions are Yes. And I feel, deep within my heart, that I'm okay with that-- for now.