We were just meeting up for our first date. I was wearing the dress, the tights and the heels. Perfectly girly, except for my shagged-out hair. Better I not tell the guy on our first date that I identified as partly masculine inside. Not as a tomboy, but genuinely half male in my heart. We had been set up, and the poor guy would probably be scared by hearing this revelation about me on the first real date.
We met up, and it went really well. Nice guy-fellow psychology student, serious foodie, as big a Japanophile as I was an Indophile. He was nice, and it was going really well.
I mentioned at one point that I had a tattoo-a black compass rose, on the outside of one of my thighs at garter/shorts level. I could rock it as sexy or tough, depending on how I felt that day.
"Oh, like it's androgynous?" He asked with a smile.
My jaw dropped. I started stammering. "You-you know what that word means?"
"Yeah, it means both masculine and/or feminine," he explained. "Have you heard about that in a class?"
I was so blind-sighted it took me a minute to regroup. "I... I identify as androgynous."
It was early on in my coming out, and it hadn't been to too many people at that point. And not many people had understood what exactly androgynous meant. To me though, the concept of androgyny encompassed what I had always felt, always was.
I was always a bookish little girl. Never liked the Disney princesses (until I grew older and could appreciate the stories), my main outfit being dresses with tights underneath. When I began learning ballroom dancing seriously, I was uncomfortable with being expected to be pretty and ultra-feminine all the time. It felt exhausting to be so pretty all the time. And honestly, kinda futile.
When my dad died, everything changed. I found comfort in wearing boys' clothes, and then men's clothes. It wasn't just a coping mechanism. It was truth. I expressed the desire to be a drag king to my then-partner. But that was the weird part-I wanted to be a drag king, but I didn't want to hide my ample bosom or clearly-feminine derrière. It was a conflicted desire, to say the least. Wanting to basically be a man, but not hide the fact that I was actually a woman.
I owe so much to Barbra Streisand. Her portrayal of Fanny Brice in the movie Funny Girl gave me something to look to as a model of something I could be. The idea of a woman who was subversive because she was strong and wanted more than the world expected of her-that was me. Streisand's portrayal was complicated, unafraid to say that sometimes she wished she was a normal, only-feminine woman, but she just couldn't help herself. What was this identity?
This brings up one crucial truth about androgyny- it is a purely cultural identity. It is based on the sexual identities in any one society an individual lives in. I probably wouldn't be considered androgynous in a country where women were expected to wear pants all the time, or could swear without receiving funny looks (hello, Ireland!). A man who dressed particularly and had no fear about admitting that he had a passion for "feminine" arts may consider himself androgynous while living in the United States. But that sucker might fit in extremely well in Italy or France.
But wherever we are, the fundamental truth is that androgynous people are mixed. We like things from all over the spectrum. No matter who we're attracted to or want to sleep with, our identities make it so we love many things. We're a cobbled-together people, a constant source of intrigue to the world. As Eddie Izzard once said, "Shag everyone and wear all their clothes!" He was talking about transvestites, but it applies perfectly to us as well.
It seems to me that some androgynous women have trouble coming out because, to be frank, people may not find them sexy. NOT TRUE. Since I've come out, potential sex partners have actually found me more attractive than ever. I'm more confident, more true to who I really am, and aren't trying to fit a feminine standard I don't feel is meant for me. Not convinced? I've been told by both men and women that I was attractive when I was in full Andy Jean mode (usually involves boots and a leather jacket). And I'm convinced that every straight man secretly wants to hook up with a strong woman who has a sprinkle of strength-usually-seen-as masculinity in her.
Being androgynous is hard, simply because being a mix of anything is hard. But it's honestly getting easier due to the immense amount of emerging androgynous cultural icons that are coming forth (Lisbeth Salander, hellllooooooo!). Having something to look to in culture and be able to say "This is what I am" is invaluable. I had Barbra; maybe some teenage girl out there who's avoided wearing makeup will have Rooney. Or a little boy who's been perfecting his muffin baking skills will have David. No matter what though, there are certainly more Andy Jeans walking around than probably anyone realizes. And we're the coolest. :)
And for the record: The dude from the date is still with me. Through leather jackets and dresses both.
Follow @FRW
