Today, I'm taking a brief interlude from my coming out story to write a letter to a new object of my affections. Dear Wool Tie, I know we just met last week, but I want to tell you how I'm feeling about you. It was good being around each other all day today, wasn't it? I mean, your slightly-heavy-but-oh-so-soft fabric just feels right, especially for fall. Simultaneously intellectual and badass, just like my platonic conception of myself. See, we complete each other, Wool Tie. Deep down in your plaid, woolen little heart, you know it. People think we look good together, Wool Tie. They all said so. You could see it in their eyes, Wool Tie. They know that you and I are meant to be together. I might even have some of your friends over. Wouldn't that be fun, Wool Tie? You know you'd love it. The bottom line, Wool Tie, is this: I don't know how my wardrobe and I survived without you, and I hope we'll never have to again. Fondly, BW
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You asked for it, you're getting it. More--yes, more--pictures of butches in suit vests, looking hot! Thanks to those of you who sent pictures. Feel free to send in more. Think of it as one big fashion collaboration among butches! Here we have a vest worn by JB. The vest is black, shirt is white, and the tie (though it's hard to see here) is maroon with a subtle plaid pattern. Nice. And the glasses are a dapper touch, too! Who's the dashing, purple-clad figure to the right, you ask? It's yours truly, in the same shirt-and-tie combo that I'm wearing here, but with a black suit vest (Stafford, bought new on eBay, $30 or so). I wore this ensemble to the wedding I mentioned in my previous post, and received several compliments. I received this picture with a note asking if I'd be willing to post a pic of a self-described "femme" in a suit vest. My answer: heck yes! (I never understood why people have librarian fantasies, but it's starting to make a little more sense now.) This is Joni McClain, a photographer with Love and Light Images whose work you can also see at this link. Next up is A, who had this waistcoat (that's what the Brits call vests, my fellow Yankees--classy, huh?) made for a wedding she attended. She writes that you can choose your fabric and send measurements to this site for a custom job. A also advises: "If you have a relatively large bust (as i do) then best to get the ladies fit." I've got to say, a custom-made vest sounds pretty good to me! Lastly but far from least-ly is one of your favorite celesbians and mine, the hot and hilarious Julie Goldman. (Julie didn't send this in herself--I snagged it from Grace the Spot.) Super cute, right? It's also a good example of how faux-messy hair can look awesome with a tidy, put-together outfit. There you have it, ladies and gents--five more ways that you can cut a dashing figure at work, at weddings, on the dance floor, or out on a date with this versatile and underused article of clothing.
A few of you have sent in pics of yourself rocking suit vests. As promised, here they are! (And if you want to be added, just let me know and I'll include you in this post.) First up, here's Cris in a textured mahogany vest sporting a pin instead of a tie. She notes that she usually wears pins or brooches in place of ties these days, and also that suit vests can be a good choice for job interviews. Next, here's Alyson Cheney, an aspiring model from Washington. She's wearing what appears to be some kind of women's jacket/vest thing, but she butches it up with a tie and an attitude and looks great! Third, here's Bren, author of the butch-femme blog Buzz Cuts and Bustiers (photo by Jess Orlando). Bren says her favorite way to wear a suit vest is "with an untucked button-up shirt, dark jeans, sneakers, and a skinny tie." Last but certainly not least: here's Whitney, who wore this outfit to a birthday party at a wine bar a few days ago. I love the dark vest/dark shirt combo, and can think of a huge range of ties that would match the outfit, too. And as a bonus, here's a photo of dyke fashion maven k.d. lang looking good (um, as usual) in a suit vest. (BTW, if you haven't heard her recent album, Sing it Loud, get it! It's awesome! Here's the video for the first song on the album. It's kind of weird, and--toward the end--pretty hot.) There you have it, folks. Suit vests and music for a happy Wednesday!
Here's what I wore to work today. The shirt is Calvin Klein and the tie is Perry Ellis Portfolio. I used be ambivalent about solid black ties, but they work well with a variety of shirts, including almost anything with dark stripes. I wore nice black dress slacks with it, and felt pretty sharp. Right now, one of my favorite places to buy ties is from rabbitstop, an Etsy seller. She makes great ties and always has a huge selection (over 500 right now!) They come in three different widths and she can often customize a tie you like for the width you want. All six ties I've ordered from rabbitstop have been awesome quality fabric. They're a little challenging to tie, because they're slightly thicker than store bought ties. But they look great. Below are some samples of rabbitstop's ties. I lifted these pics from rabbitstop's Etsy site. Rabbitstop, whoever you are, I hope you don't mind... free publicity for you, after all! My other go-to tie source is discount clothing stores: Marshall's, TJ Maxx, Ross, and the like. Of course, if you're not on a budget, you can just swing into Macy's or Nordstrom and drop $50-$100 on whatever tie you please. But for me, discount stores are great because they often have last season's brand-name ties for a third of the original price. And as long as the tie looks good on you, who cares if it hit the stores last season? Shop around for long enough and you'll find your go-to brands and can be on the lookout for them. I seem to love Calvin Klein ties, and Kenneth Cole Reaction isn't far behind.
Introduction to Tie-Buying: A few Basic Do's and Don'ts: DON'T spend a bunch of money until you've figured out your own personal style--and you will! But it takes time to learn what suits you. In the beginning, many of us dress like our fathers, which (may or) may not suit us. Try different colors and combinations. Try knit ties and bow ties and plaid ties and wild ties. DON'T buy a skinny tie unless you are skinny. I know you want to look like Don Draper--hell, we all do. But if you're a heftier butch, a too-skinny tie will make your head look enormous. My girlfriend looks rad in a skinny tie; I, on the other hand, look like I have just eaten the Pillsbury Doughboy. DON'T buy a wide tie. Yes, these were en vogue once, and they will be again someday, but now is not their moment. Anything wider than about four inches (at the widest point) is pushing it. DO take along a stylish buddy or two to help you decide what looks good (and run interference in the event of dressing room confrontations...). DO learn how to tie a tie. I learned by using these online videos of a hilariously boring British guy. There's also a version made by the Sartorial Butch! She teaches two knots: the four-in-hand and the full Windsor. If you only learn one, go for the four-in-hand; it's easiest and most versatile. DO choose ties that will match at least two or three different shirts. (Again, if money's not a concern, scratch that.) DO get the length right. After you finish tying it, the end of the tie should fall precisely at the middle of your belt. DO keep your shirts in mind. If you have no grey shirts and no orange shirts, a grey-and-orange checked tie is not your best bet. Sometimes I'll take along a particular shirt I'm trying to match. You can even snap a few pictures of the row of shirts hanging in your closet and take them along. DO try mixing patterns. This can be fun--my favorite is a tie with a large plaid print against a shirt with a small checked pattern. For some starters, check out this link--it's not bad. I'll write more about ties in the future--they're one of my favorite articles of clothing, after all. But I'm hoping this will get you started. Send me pictures of your tie-buying adventures--I'd love to post them on the blog! For some queer women, “butch” means short hair and sensible shoes. For others, it means sexual dominance. For still others, it’s an attitude or a way of life. To paraphrase former Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart’s famous take on pornography, the collective wisdom on defining butchness can be boiled down no further than: “I know it when I see it.” So why bother to identify as “butch” at all if there are so many possible definitions?
My DGF argues that it’s pointless to label one's self (ironic that she’s dating someone whose blog does exactly that, eh?), but I disagree. When I first came out, I was scared of the word "butch." I thought it meant that I wanted to be a man (I don’t), or that I could fix cars (I can’t), or that I’m attracted to femmes (I’m not). But since then, I’ve come to embrace the word "butch." Here are five reasons why: 1. Identifying as butch made me feel less deviant. Instead of seeing myself as "failing" at being a woman, I could see myself "succeeding" at being a different kind of woman. I could finally put a name to my collection of “defects”: wearing cargo pants, feeling like an alien every time I opened a women’s magazine, or finding it inexplicably crucial that I learn to tie a tie. Viewed through this lens, countless moments of frustration and discomfort suddenly made sense. Before identifying as butch, I had a collection of random dots; when I connected them, they finally made a picture. 2. I wasn’t alone. Putting a name to my masculine-of-center femininity allowed me to identify others with similar traits--most importantly, to find others whose experiences echoed mine. In some fundamental respect, there were people like me. Even before I had butch buddies of my own, simply knowing that other butches existed made me feel less alone. 3. It helped develop my fashion sense. Wearing women’s clothes made me feel like I was in drag. This was part of the "defectiveness" I mention above; I just wasn't "doing" attractiveness properly. But "butch" put a name to my style and categorized me as a possible recipient of others' sexual interest (though not my DXH's) even if I dressed as I wanted to! Clothes became a source of fun rather than frustration once I realized I could be myself and look attractive in some recognized "sense" (albeit not a conventional one). These days, I even enjoy shopping with my girlier female friends for their clothes, because I feel zero pressure to look like them. 4. It helped me define my attraction to others. I spent a long time believing that if I wasn’t attracted to “feminine” women, I couldn’t be a lesbian. If Rachel Maddow made me swoon, but Rachel McAdams left me cold, I was attracted to masculine people... So, I reasoned, I was actually straight. (This reasoning may strike some of you as silly, but I performed all kinds of mental gymnastics to convince myself I wasn’t gay.) Recognizing “butch” as a category showed me that there was a common denominator among the objects of my attraction. Yes, I was attracted to women--specifically, women of a certain type. This helped me come to terms with my sexual orientation. 5. It gave me a useful vocabulary. "Butch" is a great shorthand to express the idea of "a chick who looks sort of, but not really, like a dude," which was frequently something I wanted to express. The term also came with useful attendant vocabulary, such as "bro date" (hanging out with a platonic buddy who also sort of, but not really, looks like a dude), "boi" (a queer woman who looks like a gay male high schooler) and "soft butch" (somewhere between androgynous and butch, which I studiously practiced through online use of the phrase, "soft butch seeks same"). Theoretically, I didn't need to identify as "butch" to accomplish any of this. And maybe if I had been more confident, I wouldn't have. But we are social creatures, and the word "butch" validated aspects of me that had never felt valid. Ironically, putting a label on myself was pretty darn liberating. |
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