b-ware

At Bloomingdale's, if they can slap a b onto something they will.[No, that's not the real b-font. No, I don't care]. Our training materials were heavy-handed with b's-"b-style" is our dress code, "b-awareness" is our safety policy, "b-movement" is our bathroom manual. I kid. But it is that ubiquitous and that obnoxious. b-style is quite persnickity, too. belts should be black, their buckles preferably silver. Tattoos should be "covered" (I'll get to that later), and socks should be worn. Worse yet, different areas of the store require different levels of formality of their staff. It's pretty exhausting.


At this point, it's almost all moot, as the store I work at is closing, within two weeks. Yes, it's been slow and arduous. But, it's also been a time for many to start ignoring large tracts of b-style. Managers, also losing their jobs, do not care much, and it falls on associates to police each others' dress. I was so policed today, for failing to wear socks. It's not that it bothered me, because I doubt I could care less whether the company that has eliminated my job loses face for my dirty ankles. It did set me to thinking, however, to how many other times my appearance has been policed by my coworkers at bloomingdale's. Or, rather, my gender has been policed.


I'm queer, and part of that identity must need visibility. Let's not forget that right now the tomboy is oh-so-"chic" and we'll say that I dress from tomboyish to butch more often than not, and when dressed "not" I'm usually a bit punkish-brutish-brooding. [One of genuinely positive things about b-style is all the black. I like.] I have a black dress or two, and one skirt, I'll throw on, usually with less effort or enthusiasm than my more boyish items. The trouble comes when I wear that dress, a little sack-like, with lazy styling and boring shoes and get twenty times the positive attention for it as one of my self-determined über-cool slacks-and-sweater ensembles. And believe me, I've experimented. Whether its a small handful of people, or most of those I know, I consistently get compliments and encouragement for wearing a dress. Even a boring dress. Especially a boring dress.

I don't know what's up with this trend. I have my theories, but really...I'm just sick of being lauded for the least amount of effort coupled with what, to me, is going along with some idea of gender norms. And don't get me started on how thrilled people were when I wore lipstick AND a skirt. [Someone may have called me a model.] Though there's several people who don't comment, and one person [ONE] who compliments me when I stuff my wide-legged pants into boots, safari-style, it's not enough. So I turn to you, internet. And here I will expound upon my men's pants and a-mazing tie to my heart's delight. b-nough already.

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[love and gelato]

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