1:36 a.m. - 2008-03-04
DRAG QUEENS AND DRUNK DIALS
Ok, so my plan was for this diary to be a secret thing, or, not secret because its public, but secret in that real-life people wouldn't read it, at least for a little while. Unfortunately, I was so pleased with myself for taking the initiative that I blabbed about it to tvfoot, who is now a proud new member of Diaryland.
I was going to keep writing about coming to terms with having people I know read this, and the accompanying self-censorship issues, but, in other news, I just got drunk dialed by my step-mother! Fortunately, it was a cheerful drunk, filled with (possibly) imaginary plans for a 'girls weekend' in NY with her and my step-sister. Now, I'm a collegiate Williamsburg resident, and yes, i shop primarily in thrift stores and spend a great deal of my free time talking about false gender binaries and attempting to rehabilitate the word 'hipster' (more on this later, as with any rehabilitation, I feel the need to justify myself in order not to be profiled). My step-sister is not these things. Rather, she is a bright blonde, soon to be engaged, former high school popular girl with breast implants (apparently they were uneven, and the surgery was 'corrective', but I'm skeptical). These attributes are not, in and of themselves, Bad Things, but it does mean that we don't have a whole lot in common. She lives in a sorority, I live with drag queens.* On the other hand, I don't dislike her, we're going to be spending an awful lot of holidays together in the future, and frankly, there is something appealing about a weekend filled with pedicures and pink alcohol (or any color really, I'm not picky). So, yes, drunken conversation with new parents = possible drunken shopping trip for me**.
So, the hipster thing. Let me preface this by saying that my clothing is not particularly 'hipster'. I own a few retro dresses and snarky tee shirts, but my general look is more based on tailored gender-neutral clothes, i.e. a well fitting pair of jeans, a women's-cut blazer, and so forth. On that note, I am so fucking tired of hearing the phrase 'hipsters suck'. Or even, 'oh, that place is so hipster', when used negatively. In particular, I'm tired of hearing it from people (usually friends) clad in skinny jeans and and Ray-bans (or leggings and side-ponytails, or...oh, never mind, you get the idea). Look, hipster-ism is not a lifestyle. It is FASHION. No more. Every time you (universal, not you specifically) get up in the morning and decide not to go outside naked, you make a conscious fashion choice. Possibly even if you do; I am going to have to think about this. In any case, there is the question, 'how will this make people perceive me?' But there is also, 'Does this outfit make me happy?' and even 'Does this make my ass look fat?'. Everybody who has access to the incredible plethora of material goods that is Western living engages in this. Enjoy your clothes, I say! If you think something looks cool, wear it, and don't worry about the 'lifestyle'***.
I was going to write about my plans for a Victorian pornography generator (I have my reasons), but it's getting a little late. Next time.
Note to self: remember the bearded lady.
-Britt
*Well, technically just one drag queen. But another of my roommates used to perform, so I say that counts.
**This is one of my favorite things about Step-mother. She is an active proponent of the 'two-stores, one-drink' approach to shopping.
***Obvious caveat: This rule does not apply when discussing sweatshop-manufactured clothing. Fair wages and humane working conditions for employees come first.
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