I just read an article about a little boy who wanted his fingernails painted because his mom and sister colored theirs and he didn’t want to feel left out. So mom said, “Sure.” He loved it so much that he asked for it often. All was well until kids at school decided to pick on him. His joyful smiles turned to sorrow. Fortunately for this single mom and her son, their spiritual community at a Unitarian Universalist church rallied around them and some of the men decided to paint their nails in solidarity. One Sunday, many of them showed up for services, nails brightly shining. Extra polish was available for men who had not gotten the memo. This child’s joy was returned to him as he felt he was not alone. The article didn’t say what happened at school after that but it left me wondering why we make such a big deal about something so inconsequential as polished nails.
Where did the idea come from that certain colors were masculine or feminine? ‘Pink is for girls and blue is for boys,’ was not always so. At the beginning of the 20th century, there was no such assignment. Boys wore pink and girls wore blue. By the time I was born, in 1958, it was clear that the reversal had taken place. Little girls were decked out in pink clothing, wearing ruffles and playing with pink toys; dolls and tea sets. Little boys were dressed in various shades of blue and played with trucks and weaponry.
I laugh when I think about a prank my sister and I played on our father. As he was asleep on the sofa, we painted his toenails. I don’t remember what color we used and apparently he was a deep sleeper. Tough guy with the heart of a marshmallow, he played dolls with us and had tea parties. He also taught us to change the oil and tires on our cars. As a Golden Gloves boxer in the Navy, he also showed us the art of pugilism. Gloves, head gear and mouthpieces on board, my sister and I swatted at each other, banging gloves together. I don’t think either of us landed a punch. We were both under 12 at the time. I say that it is a good thing I am a pacifist since I might have developed a mean right hook. My sister and I wore fruffilly clothes and patent leather shoes (it was the 1960s after all) as well as jeans and sneakers.
When I was in my 20s, there was a fashion trend as men started wearing earrings more openly. The idea was that if a man had his right ear pierced, he was communicating that he was Gay and the left ear, that he was straight. If he had both ears pierced, it was anyone’s guess what his sexual orientation was.
My friend Jason Wood dresses in a colorfully creative way, some clothing of his own designs. He wears nail polish at times, and highlights his eyes. He has designed clothing for his wife Ruth Anne as well and they are sometimes seen with coordinating outfits at parties and community events. I don’t recall if either of his ears are pierced.
Here is his take on the subject:
“Certain styles of clothes are ideal for work, child rearing, play, sport, and formal occasions. My goal is to pick an outfit that is comfortable, fashionable, and works throughout the day. I used to stick with gender specific clothing, but I found it placed limits on my wardrobe options. About 5 years ago, I started wearing leggings to work out. I found them far more comfortable and looked better than sweatpants. Once I crossed the gender boundary threshold, I started my journey into fashion without constraints. This new found freedom gave me a sense of control, self-discovery, and peace in a world that seems to have lost those things. Since then my color pallet has expanded, I embellish an outfit with nail polish, eye shadow, and jewelry. It gives me a childlike joy and an outlet for creativity. If you give yourself the opportunity to express yourself freely, you discover your inner child, your inner beauty, and your humanity. It also opens doors to conversations I would have never had years ago with people of all genders. I have helped people feel comfortable in coming out as transgender, helped people feel comfortable being who they are regardless of societal pressures, and helped elevate my friends style. I think that’s what I enjoy most when I put on a dress or some makeup. It’s my subtle way of waking up society to stop labeling others and start having fun dressing themselves. I love this quote I read the other day. In a world where you can be anything, just be kind. Kindness is my gender identity.”
When my husband was alive, he was decked out in all the colors of the rainbow, pink and purple among his favorites. He wrote an article for our magazine Visions, called “Real Men Wear Pink,” back when the book Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche was in its hey day.
Some of my grandchildren’s wardrobes reflect the sensibilities of the hippie-dom of their grandparents, with lots of tie dye. They share toys that are stereotyped by gender. Three year old Dean and one year old Lucy play with dolls and trucks, dinosaurs, bubbles, crayons, stuffed animals, musical instruments and riding toys. They try on each others clothes. No one tells Dean that he shouldn’t put on Lucy’s tutu and no one tells Lucy that she shouldn’t put on Dean’s shirt that has Paw Patrol or Lightning McQueen on it.
Imagine a world in which we didn’t judge clothing items or the people that wear them, based on archaic beliefs about what is ‘appropriate’? What if people simply wear what pleases them, what makes them feel more enlivened and fully themselves?
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: iStock
