sub/Cultural semiotics of clothing
May. 21st, 2015 06:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaberettSo a few weeks back I acquired the twinkiest jeans, as discussed: blue metallic sparkly "super-skinny" jeans with an enormous blue faux-rhinestone button fly. I was wearing them for the interaction with the splendidly queer nurse, and I mentioned to my mother that part of the reason I'd thought it might be even a tiny bit okay for me to ask him about his partner was that I was wearing clothing that read as sparklegay too.
My mother, who had been great up to that point (and as we know is generally great these days), said something to the effect of "Ugh, I don't think it's fair that any one group should get the monopoly on bits of clothing and what they mean."
That's the context; this is my attempt to put my thoughts in order enough to e-mail her an explanation. (It's extremely focussed on the context of choosing to make legible otherwise invisible characteristics; obviously I'm leaving a very great deal out for the sake of Explaining Stuff To My Mum.)
The thing is, a lot of us have had really bad experiences with being noticeably queer, or at school not even with it being noticed, just a thing that got flung around for "fun" by other kids. I get the impression that this was something that those of us growing up under Section 28 did (and do) particularly badly with: homophobic bullying simply wasn't addressed, ever, as a thing in its own right that messed people up, in no small part (as far as I could tell) due to "promoting homosexuality in schools" being sufficiently broad strokes that adult authority figures were terrified of landing on the wrong side of it (which is understandable enough, given the kind of thing that was done to teachers who were suspected of being queer by their bosses, including but not limited to being treated as predators if parents got wind of the rumours instead of being supported by their colleagues). Right up til I left, I was the only out student and Chesterton, to the extent that I'd get year sevens coming up to me and going "are you the bi one" in tones of fascinated disgust.
So: being visibly out in ways that are legible to the general population is hard even when it doesn't come with being physically attacked for it.
And coming out (which you don't do just once, you have to do it over and over again; you can't say "please don't use 'gay' as a derogatory term", even, without getting looked at suspiciously) runs the risk of that kind of reaction, every time; I have been actively scared of mentioning "my girlfriend" to colleagues in the same way that they'd mention their partners' genders to me, and I am definitely not ever going to mention it explicitly to any of my undergrads even though I know how much it mattered to me to have visibly queer authority figures (because it meant they'd survived, and they'd grown up, and they'd found things they wanted to do) because of the risk of, again, getting labelled or perceived as predatory (in ways that are just not even considered when they're reading me as straight - and they are, by and large, assuming that I'm straight).
And that's where dressing in ways that signal that I'm probably queer comes in. The nurse was doing it - he'd got a single earring in a way that was strongly suggestive (though it's increasingly something straight folk do too, and thus the language moves on). On its own, I'd have wondered but not asked; on its own, him carefully referring to his partner is something I might not actually have noticed. But the combination made me, as someone who deals with this kind of thing myself, go hmm. And then I double-checked what I was wearing: because asking "is your partner a dude" is actually a massively threatening thing to do to a bloke, because if I'd been a homophobe and I'd clocked him and he then admitted it when I asked, I could very easily have been the kind of person who filed a formal complaint against him or against the project he was working for. That's the kind of arithmetic of risk we're absolutely just used to doing. So: I double-checked what I was wearing, because phrasing the question as "I can't help that you keep referring to your partner..." in combination with sartorial signalling that maintains plausible deniability but is noticeable to someone else in-group? Signalled that I was safe, and I was asking him because I wanted him to be happy, rather than because I was going to give him grief over it.
That's why clothing is important, and why it's important to me to dress in ways that make people go "hmm", and why I think it's very different to one group of people claiming a monopoly or what have you: it's not about elitism or exclusion, it's about /flagging up to other people that you're safe/, and that if they need you to you'll have their back, and that failing that there's someone they can come grab for coffee at some point and whinge about heteronormativity and the fear that leads you to talk /around/ rather than /about/ your life and be understood. And beyond all that, it's for the kids: it's for the kids who'll spend an entire term watching me very carefully and not daring to ask and not daring to believe or even hope, up until I let them catch me wearing understated rainbow jewelry and I get to watch their worldview and their ambitions and their sense of belonging rearrange all at once, and I very carefully pretend that I haven't noticed and that they're not that transparent or that unguarded or that vulnerable.
That's why it matters.
My mother, who had been great up to that point (and as we know is generally great these days), said something to the effect of "Ugh, I don't think it's fair that any one group should get the monopoly on bits of clothing and what they mean."
That's the context; this is my attempt to put my thoughts in order enough to e-mail her an explanation. (It's extremely focussed on the context of choosing to make legible otherwise invisible characteristics; obviously I'm leaving a very great deal out for the sake of Explaining Stuff To My Mum.)
The thing is, a lot of us have had really bad experiences with being noticeably queer, or at school not even with it being noticed, just a thing that got flung around for "fun" by other kids. I get the impression that this was something that those of us growing up under Section 28 did (and do) particularly badly with: homophobic bullying simply wasn't addressed, ever, as a thing in its own right that messed people up, in no small part (as far as I could tell) due to "promoting homosexuality in schools" being sufficiently broad strokes that adult authority figures were terrified of landing on the wrong side of it (which is understandable enough, given the kind of thing that was done to teachers who were suspected of being queer by their bosses, including but not limited to being treated as predators if parents got wind of the rumours instead of being supported by their colleagues). Right up til I left, I was the only out student and Chesterton, to the extent that I'd get year sevens coming up to me and going "are you the bi one" in tones of fascinated disgust.
So: being visibly out in ways that are legible to the general population is hard even when it doesn't come with being physically attacked for it.
And coming out (which you don't do just once, you have to do it over and over again; you can't say "please don't use 'gay' as a derogatory term", even, without getting looked at suspiciously) runs the risk of that kind of reaction, every time; I have been actively scared of mentioning "my girlfriend" to colleagues in the same way that they'd mention their partners' genders to me, and I am definitely not ever going to mention it explicitly to any of my undergrads even though I know how much it mattered to me to have visibly queer authority figures (because it meant they'd survived, and they'd grown up, and they'd found things they wanted to do) because of the risk of, again, getting labelled or perceived as predatory (in ways that are just not even considered when they're reading me as straight - and they are, by and large, assuming that I'm straight).
And that's where dressing in ways that signal that I'm probably queer comes in. The nurse was doing it - he'd got a single earring in a way that was strongly suggestive (though it's increasingly something straight folk do too, and thus the language moves on). On its own, I'd have wondered but not asked; on its own, him carefully referring to his partner is something I might not actually have noticed. But the combination made me, as someone who deals with this kind of thing myself, go hmm. And then I double-checked what I was wearing: because asking "is your partner a dude" is actually a massively threatening thing to do to a bloke, because if I'd been a homophobe and I'd clocked him and he then admitted it when I asked, I could very easily have been the kind of person who filed a formal complaint against him or against the project he was working for. That's the kind of arithmetic of risk we're absolutely just used to doing. So: I double-checked what I was wearing, because phrasing the question as "I can't help that you keep referring to your partner..." in combination with sartorial signalling that maintains plausible deniability but is noticeable to someone else in-group? Signalled that I was safe, and I was asking him because I wanted him to be happy, rather than because I was going to give him grief over it.
That's why clothing is important, and why it's important to me to dress in ways that make people go "hmm", and why I think it's very different to one group of people claiming a monopoly or what have you: it's not about elitism or exclusion, it's about /flagging up to other people that you're safe/, and that if they need you to you'll have their back, and that failing that there's someone they can come grab for coffee at some point and whinge about heteronormativity and the fear that leads you to talk /around/ rather than /about/ your life and be understood. And beyond all that, it's for the kids: it's for the kids who'll spend an entire term watching me very carefully and not daring to ask and not daring to believe or even hope, up until I let them catch me wearing understated rainbow jewelry and I get to watch their worldview and their ambitions and their sense of belonging rearrange all at once, and I very carefully pretend that I haven't noticed and that they're not that transparent or that unguarded or that vulnerable.
That's why it matters.
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(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 05:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 06:07 pm (UTC)I'm just imagining your mom picketing outside a department store telling them to de-segregate their clothing lines. But somehow I doubt your mom objects to all the "mainstream" uses of clothes for social signaling in the same way.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-25 06:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 07:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-23 05:06 pm (UTC)I find the things that let me know a person is safe to talk to, as an ally, is if that if you have say bumper stickers/buttons/etc. or whatever *anyway* then having some that support LGBT+ equality or feminism or human rights generally can be a good sign. These can be kind of tricky waters though because #identitypolitics. In the US, the Human Rights Campaign mails out tons of their blue and yellow equal sign stickers and they do signal a nod to LG rights...however, the HRC has historically been very hesitant to campaign for BT+ rights because I guess we might scare the politicians away, and therefore we can't even talk about, y'know, people being murdered because of gender identity or any other issues but gay marriage. Respectable gay marriage. So if you do put a political sticker up, it helps to know the backstory behind the politics. A good slogan I've seen is "straight but not narrow."
Also, since you're asking I'll just say this explicitly but I'm mostly probably not talking about you.
Even if you're a super awesome person, even if you are bedecked in ally pins, even if you have a queer relative/kissed someone in college/whatever, even if you are also queer, I may not come out to you for whatever reason. I might not have energy that day; we may be around other people where I don't feel safe coming out; I may not be out to *anyone*; coming out may endanger other parts of my life (such as the financial support of my family, or child custody arrangements, or whether I have a job); I may just be enjoying our current conversation and not feel like talking about queer stuff that day.
Basically, one of the best ways to be an ally in the entire world is to send subtle signals of acceptance and then back off and let me decide what to do with that information.
I have certain family members who think that because I'm gay, and they are pretty good allies on the gay front to me, that means that if they share this with someone who they think is gay, that possibly gay person is weird/rude/internalizing homophobia if they don't immediately come out. Even in, say, a semi-professional setting. Or that this person thinks my family member is homophobic, otherwise *why wouldn't they come out see how much of an ally they are*. Nope. See all of the really good reasons above for not coming out that have nothing to do with you.
tl;dr Basically, be your awesome self, you can name-drop maybe one queer comedian that you like or something, but don't go overboard or it can come across like you are trying to force someone into coming out to you even if that is totally not your intent.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 07:59 pm (UTC)It also makes me feel a little less invisible in my bisexual woman monogamously married to a man-ness. I have a heckuva lot of privilege in that position, and the absolute least I can do with that privilege is declare myself.
Plus, it makes me feel like...me? In a way that is difficult to describe.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 08:49 pm (UTC)*low on words*
(additional confusion ensuing because idek how and when and where I identify as queer. as per usual.)
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-21 10:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-22 12:26 am (UTC)2. Is this posted anywhere else? I would looooove to signal boost it on RL twitter, but *cough* um, try to keep one degree of separation between fannish ID and RL pseud. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-22 06:31 am (UTC)I couldn't actually say "btw I'm bisexual and I'm so sorry we work with a bunch of fucking bigots".
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-22 11:19 am (UTC)Oh, {claps}.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-22 11:47 am (UTC)I love this.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-22 04:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-22 11:57 am (UTC)And with respect to your mum and groups appropriating clothing to mean specific things, I'd note: formal business dress and the two or three piece suit, whichever is currently in fashion, the straight entertainment industry's appropriation of 'camp' styling to signal 'flaming queer' (actually I'm not certain where the cultural appropriation starts and ends in that one - it's fairly clear it's been reclaimed from media at least once, but it keeps cropping up again), and (though this one's a bit outdated as I'm not certain it lasted past my childhood - or even much into it) Catholic ladies of a certain age wearing their Sunday Best and a hat to church*.
I'm awestruck you were out at school, particularly without anyone else to lean on, remembering how we treated the one guy at our school who was simply assumed to be gay. He didn't get any hardline harrassment that I saw, but the comments and assumptions can't have been comfortable. And even if my schooldays predate yours by a quarter of a century I know how cruel kids can be to 'the weird kid' from personal experience and that being out is still an issue even now.
Are they asleep? Actually, that's unfair to you because I've only ever met you in venues where it was safe to be out, for you to be yourself, and the thought that you need to disguise yourself for professional safety, still, in what should be a forward thinking, diversity-accepting environmnent, is disturbing.
I'll admit I still find myself hesitating before linking to gay/trans stuff on FB or Twitter. It's clearly not an issue here, but my subconscious can't get away from knowing there are negatives in people deciding you're gay, whether you are or you aren't.
*Googled that and found out it was actually minor Church law until the '70s, when the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (which once upon a time went by 'the Inquisition', people) decided it wasn't important any more. I'm not certain if that makes it a better or worse example, given it's an externally enforced standard that became a socially enforced one for a period.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-22 04:10 pm (UTC)Awwwwwwwww!
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-22 08:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-23 06:46 am (UTC)I still remember the thrill, when I first arrived as a temp at what would end up my long-term employer, of seeing a manager walking around with her access pass on a rainbow lanyard.
Never did manage to come out in that office, but even so...
Apparently I had many words you unlocked. Thank you.
Date: 2015-05-23 05:18 pm (UTC)Like, I've gone out with my mom and her friend and my partner and me, and people have thought we were on a cute dyke double-date because four women, short hair, p-town. No one cares particularly (unless they are sad no one appears single), it's just when you do that quick mental calculation thing people are more likely there to go, "Aaaand probably queer...ooh look shiny thing for sale!"
Like, there's just this thrill when the person gently flirting with you at the check-out is also queer and of the same sex and *they are at work and it is safe for them to do that and not lose their job or body parts*.
It's so hard to describe the feeling when I'm so used to it not being there, and then suddenly there I am and there's leather bars and signs for a Bear Week and the thrift stores have LGBT+ book *sections* in them. Basically, it's a place where I'm not just accepted but visibly part of the day to day world. Where being out is not "throwing my sexuality in someone's face", it's just there and anyone who doesn't like it can leave.
It's also not all Respectable Gay culture there. Like, yes there's some because there's a certain price point to beach towns so not gonna pretend it's a socialist utopia or something. But there's drag queens on scooters on the streets on the weekend, passing out flyers for their shows. There's fundraisers for HIV/AIDS at...everywhere. There's safe sex things everywhere. (Probably one of the few places outside college I could get free condoms and lube.)
It's why I got so upset when Lambda Rising (DC's queer bookstore) closed amidst the recession/owner's retirement and Dupont Circle's gentrification, because it used to be that I could hop on the Metro and go to a place in my city where people looked like me, or like how I wanted to be, and there were so many more versions of that than one saw on TV. (Which, at the time, was like one show maybe? With a horrible ending of course.) And I could hold hands with people and it felt daring and edgy and also I wasn't scared there. And it was just kind of a haven.
We need these kinds of havens, but it feels like when they still exist a lot of them are becoming ways to sell the experience of "Gay" and "Rainbow" to straight people. IDK. Am I just getting grumpy and jaded?
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-24 05:49 pm (UTC)What about religious garb? Cultural appropriation in fashion? That flash mob that wore blue button-downs and khaki slacks to a Best Buy just to confuse all the customers? There are a million reasons people use clothing to signal information.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-25 04:58 pm (UTC)It is a language in which I am not fluent, mind. But still. You've articulated something important here.