Following my weird

It amazes me how a man can become a dress


‘The rules are there are no ‘nos,’” my faerie godmother said as we pulled into the parking lot of Value Village. “You have to try on everything I give you.”

It was a moot point. Once I had agreed to go to the Radical Faerie gathering with him, I knew there was no protesting whatsoever. That was the whole point of going.

When I imagine myself in drag, I’m wearing Pucci prints, pillbox hats and three-quarter sleeves. My godmother saw it differently.

“I look like Angela Bassett,” I said. The dress was a stretchy leopard print with a high collar. I could smell the sweat of the last person who tried it on.

“It’s sporty. We’ll take it.”

Later I held up the dresses for my neighbour to see.

“Just how I imagined you as a woman,” she said.

Buying women’s clothing is one thing; carrying it across the border, another. “These are not the droids you’re looking for,” I secretly chanted as the customs agent peered into the back of our car.

“Move along.”

I asked my godmother what would have happened if the agent had seen the drag.

“We would have got through faster.”

I tried coming up with a drag name: Lima Beans. Polly Technique. Percy Scription.

Nothing took.

“Those aren’t drag names,” said my godmother. “That’s what you name a sock puppet. Don’t worry. It’ll come.”

“Follow Your Own Weird,” urged a placard in a tree. I was trying.

Amidst the tree trunks, men in dresses went about their business, blending in with the flora and fauna. It was as though we were the only survivors of a nuclear holocaust and all that was left to wear were women’s clothes.

It amazes me how a man can become a dress. I had four different outfits, but I never disappeared into them the way the others did. I never became a character.

At dinner, the neckline on the leopard print was making it hard to swallow. I was about to excuse myself when my godmother pulled me back.

“You will do no such thing,” he said, staring me down between the bangs of his platinum-blonde wig. “Do you think women are ‘comfortable’ in women’s clothes? No! But do they look fabulous? Yes!”

Somewhere within was the meaning of life.

 

To prove my godmother’s point, a hairy-chested guy with six-pack abs worked a Hula-Hoop in thigh-high leather boots, cocktail dress and a spiky wig. He made it look effortless.

I had followed my own weird and it had led me here. And it was beautiful.

Tony Correia is a Vancouver-based writer who has been contributing to Xtra since 2004. He is the author of the books, Foodsluts at Doll & Penny's Cafe, Same Love, True to You, and Prom Kings.

Read More About:
Books, Culture, Vancouver, Arts

Keep Reading

‘Monster’ butchers queer history to tell a tale of lesbian revenge

In rewriting Lizzie Borden’s story, Ryan Murphy’s show sensationalizes women’s violence
Josh Silver

‘Fruit Fly’ author Josh Silver has a sweet tooth—and the summer’s buzziest book

The English writer talks the duality of social media, how nursing helped his draft—and the cost of massive success

How ‘North of North’ is introducing Indigenous queer dramedy to a global stage

Actors Anna Lambe and Zorga Qaunaq on learning about forgiveness and queerness through their award-winning show
Barbara Hammer

Barbara Hammer’s endless influence

The lesbian filmmaker made a radical difference by making work that reflected her real life. A new documentary is cementing her legacy
Advertisement