A bit of a whimsical post this evening… 🙂
On a certain day of the month, a group of men will be thinking about less than typical male behaviour. They’ll be thinking about putting an outfit together. Will this go with that? Is it too warm or too cold? In the early evening, they’ll be running a bath or shower before a slow and very thorough shave. A bag will be packed and they’ll make their way to a community centre in north Nottingham, but this is no shirt & tie or sports event.
Hellos will be said, smiles given before they retire to a room to change. Mirrors will be set out, control-ware is put on (Ed: no bumps where there shouldn’t be), tights pulled on and slowly a new outfit assembled from the suitcase or carry-all. A top, a skirt, a dress or trousers, suit or jeans, flats or heels.
Minutes will pass as make-up is delicately applied and a new face will take shape. Tape, silicon and padding give a cleavage, hips and fuller backside. Shoes unlike any man’s will be stepped into, the heels tipping their posture and altering the walk. No more powerful strides.
Finally, and perhaps the crown itself, a wig will be combed, worn and teased into position. A final look in the compact and they’re ready for the evening itself. Inside their heads, a switch will be thrown and for a few hours they can – somewhat ironically – be themselves.
Later on, the process will be undone. First to go will be the wig and to many of them, marks the start of the cliche: the beginning of the end. All traces of make-up will be gone and clothes will be lovingly packed away for another time. Smiles and waves will be given and everyone will go back to their everyday lives. They could be your next-door neighbour, your workmate, your brother, your boss, your kid’s teacher… even your husband. Trans* people: they are both everywhere and nowhere.
Today’s lyric: Ordinary World by Duran Duran.