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November 12, 2007 See and Be Seen 
This will come as a surprise, after my post about colour, but I am a person who cherishes a certain level of invisibility. I enjoy settling in at a table in a crowded place by myself, and watching people, observing their interactions, listening to their conversations, figuring them out, constructing stories about why the pretty girl in the green puffer jacket looks so sad, if that smile on the face of the man in grey dress pants sitting beside the blond woman with the long red nails means what I think it does. It's easier to watch people and turn them into stories when no one really notices you. On the other hand, I regularly wear outfits that make me look like a walking artist's colour wheel. And I see no contradiction in this. Because on the rare occasions when it brings comment, the comment is on my clothing, not on me. It's possible the commenter doesn't draw this distinction, but I do; I don't feel like I'm being seen, at all. No one looks at me walking around in teal patent-leather flats, blue jeans and an orange sweater and thinks, wow, there's a girl who loves to read and write and who enjoys intelligent pop music, science fiction, and reading about psychology in her spare time. They don't see me. They see my clothes, or my face. Sometimes, when I've misjudged the bra/neckline equation, they see my underwear. That's still not me. ("Huh," says Andrea, walking into the shopping centre, suddenly aware that the top centimetre of her bra is showing; "I should fix that. Oh well, too late now." This reminds me of the time I went out dancing in a lilac jersey dress; it was very pretty, and the black lights rendered it translucent, so I ended up dancing in my underwear, for all intents and purposes, for some time without knowing it. Finally someone told me. I looked around, figured everyone in the place had already seen it if they were going to, and thus there was no point in hiding, and kept dancing.) So someone who sees me and judges me based on what I'm wearing is probably going to jump to the wrong conclusion. They won't see Intellectual Bookworm Girl, or Eco Defender Girl, or whichever other persona I'm wearing that day; but that's fine. I don't see it as my problem to dress in such a way as to match my personality to their preconceptions. Their preconceptions are their problem, and I wash my hands of them. I wear what I want to wear to make myself happy. Parts of this discussion have made me very sad, and I'll tell you why: Surely, as feminists, if anything, we should draw pride and a sense of satisfaction in the distance we are able to claim between ourselves and the anorexic faux-blonde white pneumatic model/actress ideal that we are taught to emulate. Surely. Isn't the point of feminism to claim for women a place in public, and therefore in the public eye? Isn't the point of feminism to point out the ridiculousness, the inherent impossibility, the misogyny and hatred embedded in the feminine ideal, and free ourselves of the shackles of trying to conform to it? I fully realize I am writing this from a different position than most women, coming a bit closer to that ideal, physically speaking, than most women do. I'm relatively tall, I'm fairly slim, I'm curvy, I have long legs, and my hair can become blonde without too much effort and it won't look fake (though I don't do so and in fact am letting the greys come in). I don't put a lot of stock in this. No one ever thought I was pretty until I hit highschool, and it hasn't made life easy or perfect, so whatever. But it makes a difference in my subjective experience, and I'm trying to be sensitive to that. I know, or sense, that because I do come closer to that ideal, it is easier for me to get away with certain clothing options. Although, to be perfectly honest, it leads to different and more difficult assumptions too, when it does draw notice. There are portions of the male population that perceive a certain body type as an invitation, and when they've noticed me, the most common reaction I've received has been, "What do you mean, 'no'?" (I meant no. I'm not public property, you know.) But still: being thin and young and pretty (sometimes, to some people--no one is pretty to everyone all the time) doesn't actually solve this problem. The lie that it does is part of what keeps us in our place: don't draw attention to yourself until you're good enough. But it's not so simple as never being good enough, because once you are, the message changes: who do you think you are? Do you think you're prettier than everyone? Why would you wear that if you didn't want attention? (Never mind that you can put the exact same outfit on someone else and it won't send the same message because the body underneath is different. Trust me on this one: I have seen it in action.) If you're going to wear that, then you deserve whatever you get. The hatred remains and it still takes courage and a certain flagrant disregard for the opinions of other people to dress in a way that makes you happy. (When I was in senior public school, way before anyone thought I was cute enough to be dated ever, my Mom passed down to me two brown suede miniskirts she'd worn to highschool in the 60s. They were short. Short short short. Obviously a few decades out of style. But so great, I loved those skirts. I wore them all the time, even though I didn't have the "right" body for them then, either, being too skinny. One day a 'friend' asked me, "don't you think that skirt is a little too slutty?' Uh, no? It's just a skirt. Skirts don't have sexual morals, people do; and you can't tell what someone's values are from measuring their skirt length. Because, again, when you have long legs, everything looks shorter on you than it does on most other people.) You all already know that women are conditioned from birth not to take up space. Speak quietly. Be nice. Accommodate other people. Physically shrink. Keep your knees together on the bus and never use more than half of a shared armrest. Is this any different? It's one thing if what you enjoy wearing and what brings you genuine pleasure just happens to be taupe. But if it's not, and you're wearing taupe anyway because you think you have to be someone else before you can earn the right to wear red, is it any different? I would suggest that it is your very unwillingness to enslave yourself to the pornalicious sexbot ideal of modern femininity that precisely earns you the right to take up visual space and wear red (or purple, yellow, orange, green, chartreuse, what have you). It is your very inability to match that hideous and misogynistic ideal that makes you an authentic and interesting person with integrity and values. No one is ever going to give you permission to dress the way you want (except me). No matter how young or thin or pretty you are. It has to be a right that you claim for yourself, not because you think you are pretty enough to earn the right to be looked at, but because you are smart and strong and good and interesting enough to earn the right to be yourself in every way. And truthfully, no one else is going to care as much as you imagine they might. Don't cede the visual landscape to the stereotypes. Stake your claim to it too. When people look at you, they're not going to see what you are afraid they will see. They will see an interesting person with self-confidence and a sense of style. That's attractive on anyone. Posted by Andrea at November 12, 2007 7:49 AM under Female Trouble , Me EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments By the time I finished readying this my eyes were moist. It felt like you were talking to me! To me! Having had to live with a deformity (for lack of a better word) all my life dressing is near impossible. I was taught to *hide* the deformity as a child. Now an adult that deformity is who I am, it's made me who I am, no amount of hiding it will make it go away. Once I started dressing nicer with clothes that fit it was amazing that I'd get compliments on how good I looked! People weren't seeing the deformity, they were seeing the real me! I've rambled enough but thank you for the last few sentences giving me permission to dress how I want to dress, to wear what makes ME happy! And if that means bright funky socks, that's what I'll do! Posted by: LauraJ at November 12, 2007 8:12 AM
This post makes me think of dozens of first impressions where I was so sure someone was a certain way and they were something entirely different. No matter how hard we try we pre-judge to a degree. The "tough" looking guy who is sensitive or the "scary" teen who is sweet and helpful. Clothes are our first indication in some ways of what a person is like...then again as you have pointed out it doesn't always reveal what is inside, nor should it. This is the topic that just keeps going! Posted by: Rosebud and Papoosie Girl at November 12, 2007 9:02 AM
Geez Andrea, you leave me breathless and speechless, again. (See award at my place, yesterday's post. :) ) Here are the thoughts, just off my head, not tied together into a thesis of any sort, that came to me as I read: I have two modes, too: performer and audience. If someone notices me when I'm in audience mode, it feels intrusive, and a part of me is offended. If someone overlooks me in performer mode, it feels like a slight and a part of me is offended. Maybe I need a sign. Yes, sometimes the best defense is offense. Bright colors can be just as good a disguise and blind as drab clothes. People have envied me some aspects of myself. On paper, I have the same stats as Tyra Banks. In person, I look nothing like Tyra Banks. I don't think anyone has ever thought me beautiful. Attractive, pretty at times, but mainly attractive. It is my personality that garners attention, I guess, like a beautiful girl's face. I can't seem to feel regret about that, although I'd gladly take something slightly less unusual and on the edge of plain. Maybe, but not a change, only if it began that way. I felt slightly annoyed for four hours on a flight when a man assumed his larger arm had the RIGHT to have the entire shared armrest. And I said NOTHING. But what good would an elbow war have been? When he went to the bathroom, I took over the armrest and didn't give it back. Does this make me petty. LOL I have bright colors, like reds, but they are all warm colors, on the autumn palette. Skirts don't have morals is classic. Awesome. Okay simply wonderful...so many things to consider and think about. I tried to write a post in reply to your earlier topic and Bub & Pie's reply, but...err the posting queue is a bit backed up. Julie Posted by: Julie Pippert at November 12, 2007 9:46 AM
This reminded me of myself when I was a young woman. As a teenager I was very tall and very thin and thought myself ugly. Suddenly at 18 I was considered attractive and still didn't believe it but I could seduce men very easily and did, a lot. My sexuality gave me a power I had never had before but it didn't give me what I wanted which was comfort within my myself. I finally stopped seducing men when I realized it really isn't very hard and the only reason I was doing it was for the attention I didn't get from my father. This is turning into a long comment. When really struck me about your post was the part about women not taking up more than half of the armrest. I've noticed this more and more as I get older. Men don't ask permission or apologize, they just take, most men anyway. I am now approaching menopaus and as my estrogen levels fall I feel within myself a new power which I am welcoming. As I always I enjoy reading your posts. Posted by: deb at November 12, 2007 10:32 AM
Every time I read something like this, whether from you or someone else, I wish I were brave. I'm glad you are. Posted by: Diatryma at November 12, 2007 3:17 PM
When I was a teenager I HATED to be noticed, and it didn't have anything to do with my body. It had to do with my behavior. I was afraid I'd try to dress "cool" and miss the mark and everyone would laugh; I was afraid I would say something serious and everyone would laugh; I was afraid I'd say something funny and everyone would think that was weird. Crap. I spent a whole lot of time worrying whether anyone was currently laughing at me or about to laugh at me! I don't obsess the way I used to, but I would still rather duck than stick my head out. That's one reason I've been blogging for 3 years but still no one can find me... I do want to emphasize that my desire to hide has nothing to do with whether I'm pretty or whether my body is the right shape. Is that the case for anyone else? Just curious. Posted by: Jennifer at November 12, 2007 3:23 PM
Addendum: I'm not convinced that I shrink from attention because that's how women are supposed to behave. My brother-in-law does the exact same thing. I have noticed that he is sharply criticized, in certain circumstances, for not being aggressive. Where I am not. Am I just rambling on here? I've got my son beside me, he's playing a very interesting game & so my attention is only partly on what I'm writing! Posted by: Jennifer at November 12, 2007 3:31 PM
Ah but Andrea, I don't wear blocks of neutrals so that I won't stand out in the eyes of others. I wear them b/c of my own comfort levels. If my bra pokes out at the mall or my slip rides up or even my dress for that matter, I don't really care. I have a body, a real woman's body and people can deal with that or no. Whatever. People will see me in the way that they will see me and there is not a damn thing I can do about that. I don't dress to please or displease others. I dress for myself. I dress to my comfort levels and my comfort levels have been shaped by generations of propriety. That is simply who I am (or who I have become), just as the men in my family sport the camoflauge of jeans and a t-shirt. I do love colour in a dress or shirt. I love groovy 60s prints in a shirt but beyond that, I would prefer to dress to my own comfort level. Posted by: Mad Hatter at November 13, 2007 1:34 PM
Hmm. I must have misinterpreted your last comment. In any way--that's interesting, though, because I guess I don't see the value in having a comfort level. (Not a value judgement, just an observation.) Posted by: Andrea
Whether there is value in it or not, it is something I cannot step out of. That's the point I am trying to make. I can critically assess the situation but I cannot change who I am in this regard. Any effort to do so only makes me feel uncomfortable--not anyone else. As a feminist, I can critique patriarchy but I cannot step outside it. I was born into it and it has shaped everything I ever known. As a woman and the product of generations of WASPs, I can acknowledge and critique the influence of propriety on me but I can't necessarily change that part of who I am. And, as a feminist, when it comes to changing the world, the question of how I dress is pretty low down on my priority list. Posted by: Mad Hatter at November 14, 2007 12:25 PM
Well--I don't believe that anybody can't change. The thing is, I think uncomfortable is good. Not just in clothing, in everything. Comfortable=status quo. Stepping outside the status quo is always going to be uncomfortable, at least at first, right? In any endeavour. learning any new skill, making any change in society, breaking any habit, whatever it is, it's never going to be comfortable in the beginning. That's what I meant when I said I didn't see the value in having a comfort level. I agree that clothing is not the most important feminist issue; but for me this is more than dress. Critiquing other women for wearing miniskirts and lipstick (which is when the issue of dress usually comes up)--making an issue about other women choosing to become Drones of the Patriarchy--is absolutely a waste of time. I agree. But if there is an element of self-censorship, of--as Bub and Pie described it--self-hatred involved, that is not the same. That's not clothing, that's clothing as a symptom of a much bigger issue. Hatred of ourselves and our bodies because of a perceived inability to achieve cover girl status, imo, however expressed, ain't good. If that's not you, then great. We don't disagree. Posted by: Andrea
Julie's right - this a great post. I, however, feel most myself in jeans and a black shirt. Maybe I'll try and branch out and see if I can find something else that's comfortable. :) Posted by: magpie at December 5, 2007 3:31 PM
Thank you. :) Posted by: Andrea
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Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "If the writer is a socially privileged person--particularly a White or a male or both--his imagination may have to make an intense and conscious effort to realize that people who don't share his privileged status may read his work and will not share with him many attitudes and opinions that he has been allowed to believe or pretend are shared by 'everybody.' Since the belief in a privileged view of reality is no longer tenable outside privileged circles, and often not even within them, fiction written from such an assumption will make sense only to a decreasing, and increasingly reactionary, audience. Many women writing today, however, still choose the male viewpoint, finding it easier to do so than to write from the knowledge that feminine experience of reality is flatly denied by many potential readers, including the majority of critics and professors of literature, and may rouse defensive hostility and contempt. The choice, then, would seem to be between collusion and subversion; but there's no use pretending that you can get away without making a choice. Not to choose, these days, is a choice made. All fiction has ethical, political and social weight, and sometimes the works that weigh the heaviest are those apparently fluffy or escapist fictions whose authors declare themselves 'above politics,' 'just entertainers,' and so on." Ursula le Guin Email Frances! frances AT athenadreaming DOT org You can email her mother too (that's me):
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