“Why Don’t You Wear Dresses?”

Raise your hand if you’ve been asked this question: “Why don’t you wear dresses?” Yep, that’s a lot of hands. And I’m willing to bet good money that everyone who has been confronted with this strange, obnoxious, unanswerable enigma of a question is perceived as a woman. I’ve been asked this all my life and have always kept quiet about it because I could never quite identify why I despise this question so much. Today though, I want to talk about it, partly because it’s just annoying, but mostly because I think this question often has its roots in some harmful assumptions about gender and self expression, and many times, well-intending askers inadvertently cause a lot of annoyance and discomfort for their unsuspecting victims.

I used to be very confused when people asked this. Having grown up in a house surrounded by five acres of towering trees, squishy swamps and bushy salal, my childhood activities largely consisted of tree climbing, bushwhacking, making forts, terrorizing the local deer population (read: attempting to befriend Bambi), riding my bike through the wooded trails and making twiggy, uncomfortable, but fully functional hammocks out of cedar bows. Naturally, I dressed appropriately for my feral flower child activities so, dresses were never a part of my everyday wardrobe. I often associate them with formal-wear, but more than that, I just never really grew accustomed to the feeling of wearing a dress, so when I go clothes shopping, I tend to gravitate towards pants.

Lately, I have been trying to ascertain the correct answer to “Why don’t you wear dresses?” What does that even mean? Do people think that just because they’ve never seen me wear a dress, I have some kind of moral opposition to it? Truth is, I do wear dresses. I even enjoy wearing dresses sometimes. I just prefer pants usually, and somehow that answer never satisfies the inquirers.

Average Inquirer: What are you talking about? You never wear dresses! I’ve never seen you in one!

Me: Yes, but you’ve only known me for 2 years. And you don’t even see me that often. I do wear dresses, it’s just that I haven’t worn one around you.

A.I: You should wear them more often then, you’d look so pretty!

And you know what? I look bitchin’ in a dress. I feel bitchin’ in a dress. I like the flowyness and the old fashioned vibe and the fact that it excuses me from having to match two pieces of clothing in the morning before I’ve even had my coffee. But there is more to life than looking and yes, even feeling sexy. Sometimes I want to wake up, drag my groggy body to the bathroom mirror, look at my Clearasil dotted face and purple insomniac eye-bags and think, “I’m not sexy today at all. I don’t look it, I don’t feel it, and that doesn’t bother me, because I have things to do and thoughts to have and a life to live and those variables are completely independent of my sexiness.” There’s got to be some kind of healthy level of positive-body-apathy for women to attain. I’m not suggesting that women suddenly become negligent of our health, I’m just saying that this obsession with feeling sexually appealing often feels like nothing more than another polite way of binding women to our bodies.

This question calls a lot of attention to gender expectations. Am I, as a girl, supposed to just naturally feel compelled to wear a certain type of clothing? Why does my explanation of “because I prefer pants, they’re more practical” never satisfy people? It often seems like, as a woman practicality is not a valid reason for my actions. As a woman, I am expected to blindly surrender to whatever beauty standards society sets, regardless of its suitability for my lifestyle. Why is the follow up comment always about how pretty I’d look in a dress, and why is it assumed that beauty should be my motivation for me to wear one? If I wear a dress, it may be because it makes me feel attractive, but more likely it’s because it’s hot outside, or I’m attending a formal event, or I’m out of clean pants. Might I also add that this question reinforces the primitive and damaging concept of gendered clothing, something that I believe to be counterproductive in terms of social progress, as well as absolutely preposterous (save for the reasonable sizing variations that arise as a result of anatomical differences). Not to mention, unless they have explicitly asked you, it’s safe to assume that most people are not particularly interested in hearing your evaluation of their expression and style.

More than anything, please consider this: If I like what I’m wearing, kindly let me wear it in peace. This question is uncomfortable for me, because I usually don’t think I’m weird (at least, no weirder than the next person), yet I am forced to question that and wonder if there’s something wrong with me, every time someone asks this. “Why don’t you wear dresses?” may be asked with innocent intentions, but it perpetuates the same benighted stereotypes and societal expectations that humans have been working decades to annihilate, and I hope to see less of this dreadful inquiry in the future.

Kindly Start Using Singular ‘They’ Pronouns. You Have No Excuses Anymore.

This is *another* old post from my old blog. I don’t know why I’m including it on here. I guess the better question is ‘why not?’

If you are unfamiliar with the fact that not everyone identifies with one of the binary genders, and therefore, not everyone is comfortable being referred to with he or she pronouns, I encourage you to educate yourself on that before reading this. Those of you who are aware of this concept are probably also aware that whenever the subject of gender neutral they/them pronouns arises, there’s always that one person who can’t refrain from unsheathing this tired, insipid excuse:

“But ‘they’ is a plural pronoun.”

Correct. ‘They’ is indeed a plural pronoun. ‘They’ can also be used in singular form though, and don’t try to tell me you didn’t know that, because you probably use singular ‘they’ all the time.

Example: you’re driving and someone is tailgating you. You might be annoyed by THEM. Chances are, you can’t tell what THEIR gender is, so in order to accommodate the possibility that THEY could be any gender, perhaps you would say, “Wow, who does this person behind me think THEY are? THEY sure drive like a jerk.”

Unless you are under the erroneous impression that more than one person is driving the vehicle behind you, it’s safe to assume that you have, in fact, just used singular they.

The pronoun ‘they’ is homonymous. There are homonyms all through the English language, yet I doubt you refuse to use the word ‘bark’ to describe the outer layer of a tree just because it can also be used in reference to the sound a dog makes. Ambiguity is everywhere and just because you’ve been conditioned from an early age to maintain a conveniently blind eye to its presence in less controversial contexts, doesn’t change that. So next time someone asks you to use they/them pronouns, you can choose to pedantically pontificate about grammar that you clearly lack an adequate understanding of, or you can take a more sagacious approach and kindly use the damn pronouns.

You would think that, after learning that singular they is grammatically correct after all, most people would see the merit in employing singular they pronouns. The disillusioning reality of the matter is that logic doesn’t pacify everyone. Because of this, there is often a follow-up excuse concerning the usage of them/them pronouns, and it usually looks something like this:

“I’m sorry. If there was an original gender neutral pronoun that wasn’t so confusing, I’d use it, but I just can’t get used to they/them pronouns.”

No. You are not sorry. You are desperately searching for a nonconfrontational way of admitting that you have no interest in being a respectful, socially responsible member of society. Unfortunately for you, there are, in fact, many original, gender neutral alternatives to singular they: Ze, xe, tey, ey, e, thon, fae, vae, ae, ne, xie, sie, zed, ce, co, ve, jee, lee, kye, per, hu, bun, to name a few. Problem solved, right?

“But those are too weird and obscure. No one will know what I’m talking about.”

But isn’t this what you just told me you wanted?

“Yeah, but it has to be a pronoun people are familiar with.”

Enter: singular they. You see the problem here? There are no valid excuses anymore. Singular they is not only grammatically correct, but has been a part of the English language for eons. There are plenty of gender neutral alternatives for people who are still too obstinate to yield to singular they, but as it turns out, these people aren’t actually looking for alternatives, they’re simply looking for an excuse to continue ignoring the existence of genders that don’t fall tidily into their comfy gender binary.