First of all, today's Tourist Trapped is up! Check out Tighe and my visit to the San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers over on SFGate.
I wore a hat to the Conservatory. Because I'm going through a CHAPTER IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW where I've decided to be true to myself, own who I am, subscribe to O Magazine, etc. This means that I now wear hats. Hats are the kind of thing women buy because other women and gay men love women in hats. Stright men do not historically enjoy a woman in a chapeau. However, listening to the opinions of straight men has never really gotten me anywhere, and Big Chris will make fun of me no matter what I wear, I decided to rock my hat yesterday.
When Tighe met me in front of the Conservatory, he said, "I saw you from a distance and I just had to take a moment because there you were, in that fabulous hat and sunglasses, waiting for me." But all day long, I could feel that hat on top of my head, standing out, looking very Buena Vista Social Club. I only grew more self-conscious as the day wore on, when I met my friend Alice in Chinatown for photography and shopping.
"Oh! A hat!" She beamed, hatless. "I just love it." Alice knows that, unless you are Andie MacDowell in 'Four Weddings and a Funeral," a woman in a hat needs constant reassurance. While in Chinatown, I bought a silk nightgown for $30. And today, once again inspired to be fashion forward and sartorially honest, I chose to wear this nightgown as a dress to work.
I work almost exclusively with straight men, men who are very comfortable saying things like, "What the fuck are you wearing today?" On the front of this nightgown is a dragon. On the back are lots of Chinese characters, which as my co-worker Carlos pointed out, "could very well say 'Kick Me.'" The more I walk around in this thing, the more it static clings and shows off the stripper bruise I got from walking into a coffee table. The more I sit, the more wrinkled it gets. I am starting to feel really, really awkward in this dress!
As tonight is Porchlight Open Door (you should come!) I needed reassurance that I shouldn't run down to the Gap and buy jeans and a blouse to wear. I got my co-worker Gregg to take a photo, which I then texted to Brock, who described my experimental looks as "a dramatic departure."
It's only going to get weirder. My sponsor's 'suggested' I take a hiatus from dating. Which means I can finally wear my sequined blazer, my full length kimono, and my wigs...