Last week, I returned to the age-old question of what butches should wear to interviews.  In a short poll, I posed the following hypothetical:

Imagine helping a butch lesbian decide what to wear for an entry-level professional interview (e.g., lawyer, consultant, finance, manager, gov't, professor, etc.). She usually wears men's clothes, but identifies and presents as female, though people sometimes accidentally call her "sir." She tells you, "I know the employers are kind of conservative, though I also know things are slowly changing. I'm a solid candidate but not a shoe-in. What should I wear?

I gave six choices and asked how to advise our butch professional wannabe:
#1: Fit in first, THEN change the system. Wear what other women there wear: makeup, heels, whatever you have to.
#2: Be yourself, but show you're willing to play the game. Wear only the women's stuff you're most comfortable in--skip the makeup and heels!
#3: Wear a combo to help you fit in a little--e.g., a plain women's suit, collared shirt, men's shoes.
#4: You like men's clothes; wear a men's suit and shirt and shoes, but no tie or other uber-masculine gear that'd alienate you from your interviewers.
#5: Men's clothes, including a tie. If they don't want you, you don't want to work there. If you can't get a job in the industry, it's not for you!
#6: As long as you wear something nice, clean, etc., it doesn't matter. People judge you for who you are, not what you wear.

Here are the results:

As you can see, I also calculated the average age for each response.  For a small survey, these age differences don't matter much, and goodness knows this isn't anything close to a representative sample (of the population overall, of butches, or even of BW readers), but it's interesting to think about. 

A few numbers that caught my eye, and possible explanations:

• The very youngest group gave what we might think of as the most "conservative" answer--wear all women's clothes, but only clothes in which you can be comfortable.  This surprised me, but then I thought that perhaps younger folks haven't been out long enough, and thus feel like they have to fit in more.  Or perhaps they're more aware of new, androgynous clothing that's technically "women's."  Not sure.  I do suspect, though, that in the general (mostly straight) population, it would be the older folks who think answer #2 makes the most sense. Hm, maybe I should survey them and find out.
• None of you thought that going in "full drag" (lipstick, heels, etc.) was the best option, which made me smile.
• For the most part, the spread of ages was pretty even for each answer--except one.  Answer #6 (that people judge you for who you are, not what you wear) was mostly given by people at the ends of the age spectrum--those in their 20s and those in their 50s.  Almost no 30- or 40-somethings gave this answer.  Cynically, I thought: the younger ones are still naive, and the older ones care less about fashion.  But maybe I'm wrong about all of this!

And finally, here's a sampling of the write-in comments:

Thanks for these great thoughts.  If you're trying to figure out how to break into the profession you want without compromising who you are, you are certainly not alone.

A few weeks ago I wrote this article recounting my pseudo-gender-conforming job search.  Shortly thereafter, a butch superstar six or seven years ahead of me in my field reached out about the article, and we ended up having coffee and chatting about her experiences.  Not only was she even more awesome than I’d hoped, but she had interesting theories about butch clothing selection that are way too interesting not to share.

Said superstar proposed the following:

• There's a big divide around age 50 or so.  The divide isn't due to age, but to generation (that is, 45-year-olds will not suddenly change their minds in 5 years).  People, including lesbians, 50 and older tend to believe that butchy lesbians should wear gender conforming clothing (not heels and lipstick, but at least women’s suits and a pair of earrings).  By "should," I'm not talking about a moral imperative, but about a strategic decision.  People 50 and younger, on the other hand, think butchy lesbians should wear men's clothing, if they so desire, and believe that nothing bad is likely to come of it.
  
• People who are liable to discriminate against me because I look like a big ol' dyke won't be less likely to discriminate against me just because I've a small effort at gender conformity.
• If I "look like a lesbian" and I'm wearing men's clothing, I will at least be recognizable as a type—a butch dyke they can put in a particular box.  They'll like me or they won't, but at least they'll know where to file me.  If I'm wearing, say, a string of pearls but still "look like a [butch] lesbian," it's a little harder to stick me in a box, and the inability to stick others in boxes makes people uncomfortable. 
  

The bottom line is that Superstar says to go for a men's suit next time—at least, it worked for her.  So maybe I will.  Or maybe I'll go back and forth, since I like both men's and women's suits that are relatively gender-neutral in appearance (e.g., no cutesy buttons for women's suits, no mega-structured shoulders for men's suits).  But I do like wearing ties, which tend to look better with men's suits.  Superstar had no major opinion on ties, since she doesn't wear them herself, but since they are THE quintessential "men's" professional clothing item, maybe a tie would be more likely to be looked on unfavorably by prospective hirers.

What do you think about Superstar’s theories?  Let's unscientifically test one of them!  Click here to take a SUPER-quick 2-question quiz.  I'll post the results this weekend.

I've been hesitating to write this entry because I don't know whether to make it instructional or confessional.  Perhaps it is neither.

A few months ago, I was gearing up for a series of interviews in a very conservative (socially, not politically) industry.  I was planning to wear my dark grey men's suit with the lovely, unstructured shoulders, complete with a purple checked tie.  But one of my mentors got to me first (not you, CB).  I should add that this woman is queer, in case that matters to you.  I'll call her "MP" for "Mentor Person."  This conversation occurred:

MP: So...  You're not going to wear men's clothes to the interviews, are you?
BW: ...
MP: Look, you want a job, right?
BW: Right, but at what cost?
MP: Look, when you're at my level, you can wear what you want.  But at this point, you want a job.  You want to convey that you're like everyone else.  And you don't want the interviewers thinking about your clothes.
BW: I don't care if they think about my clothes.
MP: Yes, you do.  You don't want them staring at you thinking, "Is she wearing men's underwear?"
BW: I'll just walk in, wink, and tell them, "Nope."
MP: No to the men's underwear?
BW: No to the men's underwear!  Well... today, anyway.

Okay, so then MP--who, let me stress, is someone I trust and who is invested in my professional success--tells me her hypothesis about gender conformity and clothing.  Basically, she says that there are four components to a professional outfit:
1. Shirt
2. Something over the shirt, like a blazer or jacket or sweater
3. Pants
4. Shoes

MP's theory is that of these items, at least two need to be from the women's department so as not to attract undue attention/speculation/consternation.  She tried, unsuccessfully, to get me to order a "shell" shirt from L.L. Bean or one of those other places.  I told her I thought it was absurd.  I resisted.  I argued.

And then I gave in--partly. 

On my way home that day, I stopped at Macy's and tried on approximately 15 women's suits.  I do not like women's suits because they tend to lack pockets, to have too-short jackets, and to be cut in weird ways that make my hips look extra hipp-y and my boobs look extra boob-y.  Finally, I found one that was relatively inoffensive, except that the jacket was a little too short.  Whatever.  I bought two, in black, plus a women's Ralph Lauren shirt that was lovely and purple and striped and devoid of girlish frills.  (Not a "shell" or--God forbid--a "camisole"--I'm talking about a regular collared shirt.)  I took a picture of myself in the new getup and sent it to MP.  Her response: "Don't you think it's a little narcissistic to send me pictures of yourself?" 

Ha.  From MP, that's approval. 

The next day, unprompted, MP loaned me actual, real pearls, because she said rich people can tell the difference between real pearls and fake pearls and I was likely to encounter people who had grown up wealthy.  I am extremely skeptical of pearls, but since these were small and looked shockingly non-dowdy with my new, very sharp shirt, I went for it.

So according to MP's formula I was more than sufficiently girly: pants, suit jacket, shirt.  Three out of four!  (There was no way in hell I was going to wear women's shoes.)  Plus pearls!

Looking in the mirror the day of my interviews, I realized that there was still no way anyone would mistake me for straight: my ever-present tiny silver hoops, very short haircut, and men's shoes gave me away.  Even with pearls, I didn't look feminine, but at least I was closer to Ellen's look than to Lea DeLaria's.  (Point of clarification: I like Lea DeLaria and her look; I'm not knocking it, just saying that I didn't want to embody it that day.) 

Among the sea of other interviewees, I was still by far the least gender-conforming person.  I might as well have been wearing a rainbow sticker on my forehead.  Still, the cut of my suit allowed me to look conforming enough for interviewers not to dismiss me, and masculine enough that I felt comfortable.  In fact, I felt like quite the powerful dyke.

Did I "betray" my butchness by wearing a lady-suit?  Maybe.  Would I have been more "true" to myself in a men's suit and tie?  Maybe.  But at the same time, I thought carefully about the degree of "compromise" I was willing to make, and what I was and wasn't willing to sacrifice to fit in.  More gender conformity would have gone over better with interviewers, I suspect.  Still, I have to admit that I felt proud of finding a balance that worked for me in this particular situation, and grateful to MP for giving me the heads-up that I needed to make a few changes if I wanted to be in the ballpark.

As you can tell, I'm still wrestling with it.  I loathe the idea of compromising to "fit in."  But I also loathe the idea of not getting the job I want because I was too stubborn to take off my damn tie.  At least for me, being butch is partly about being true to myself, and partly about finding a balance that will let me be myself while accomplishing what I want to accomplish.  (And finally getting some power, so that I can not only put my own tie back on, but hire plenty of other tie-wearing women when I'm the one making the decisions.)

I bet some of you can relate to this.  For those of you in industries where you're likely to be punished for gender non-conformity, what do you do?  What kinds of balance have you found, and how has it worked?

Last year, Australia made it legal for people to register their gender as "nonspecific"--that is, neither male nor female.  Other countries, including New Zealand and Nepal, have similar laws.  I support this, because I think people should be able to "identify" however they want, or to not "identify" as anything at all.

My concern isn't with the third gender movement itself, but with how people understand it, and how they understand gender as a result.  Articles like this one from Sunday's NY Times adopt language that, despite their apparent inclusiveness, actually reiterate the gender divide.  In part, the article details the gender-related travails of Norrie May-Welby, an Australian who was designated male at birth, but by age four, "was drawn to the world of girls, playing with dolls..."  Later in life, Norrie underwent gender reassignment surgery and identified as female.  Although this development was gratifying, she found she did not want to "dissociate [her]self from aspects... simply because they were labeled masculine" (she now IDs as gender nonspecific, though she's fine with female or nonspecific pronouns).

I have zero problem with Norrie's personal decisions or (quite courageous) journey.  My problem is in the way this story is told, and in what this telling means.  The story, and others like it, suggest that Norrie's doing "girl things" as a kid was a clue to her female-ness, but that her refusal to let go of "masculine" things later meant she wasn't "fully female," or that part of her was "truly male." 

In other words, much of the "third gender" discussion equates "masculine" things with maleness, and "feminine" things with femaleness.  It reiterates the gender binary by trying to oppose it.  That is, when you say that a third gender exists because some people like "boy stuff" and "girl stuff," you're still adopting the idea that "girl stuff" and "boy stuff" exist as categories.  And I don't think they should; I think it's stupid for the categories to exist at all.

If you want your gender to be butch or nonspecific or agender or neutrois or anything else, I think that's awesome and that you should go for it.  But I also think it's important to fight against the idea that people are necessarily something besides male or female simply because they don't fit into society's ideas of typical masculinity or typical femininity. 

Starting in 2004, the Lesbian, Gay, and Queer Research Foundation (LGQRF), has been keeping track of queer sub-populations in the U.S.  They have ALL kinds of quantitative data, both about self-identity and lifestyle.  They don't list "butch" as a self-selected category, but do collapse several indicative variables together, including sporting activities, reading habits, car ownership, occupation, and more, and end up with a startlingly accurate picture of the butch population throughout the U.S. 

If you're like me, you're a little hesitant--after all, there a thousand ways to measure the "butchest" towns and cities: butches as a percentage of the queer population, butches as a percentage of the general population, or degree of butchness (that is, how "butch" are the butches there, even if there aren't very many of them?).  The GLQRF actually breaks it down in seven different ways, but I'm just going to highlight the top 5 in the categories I think are the most interesting.  (The GLQRF lists 50 in each, and that's just waaaay too many for me to include here.)

Butches as a percentage of the queer population
1. Sudbury, Massachusetts
2. La Honda, California
3. Dixville Notch, New Hampshire
4. New York, New York
5. Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Butches as a percentage of the general population
1. Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
2. Northampton, Massachusetts
3. Oakland, California
4. Provo, Utah
5. Abilene, Texas

Butchest Butches (without regard to # or % of butches)
1. Tracy, California
2. Highlands Ranch, Colorado
3. Friday Harbor, Washington
4. Mitchell, Nebraska
5. Lafayette, Louisiana

Least Butch Butches (without regard to # or % of butches)
1. Seaside Heights, New Jersey
2. Sunnyvale, California
3. Scarsdale, New York
4. Los Angeles, California
5. Frankfort, Kentucky

Most Attractive Butches
1. Portland, Oregon
2. Galena, Illinois
3. Greenville, South Carolina
4. North Decatur, Georgia
5. Eliot, Maine





Silliest Butches
1. YOU, if you're still reading this.  April Fool's!  Heehee.  Hope you enjoyed scouring the fictitious stats above.  I just made 'em up!  Have a terrific day.  Love, BW