I can buy US size 5 boys’ shoes (which comes in handy when I have to replace well-worn canvas-topped sneaks). I can buy XL size 14-16 clothes in either the boys or girls section of any clothing store (including shirts, since nature has endowed me such that an obese man with manboobs would need a bra more than I would).
These days, with my super-short hair and my ongoing aversion to all things cosmetics, I have regained that androgynous appearance that was part of me through most of high school. What with rocking that “button-up shirt, vest, frock coat, slacks” uniform that I often wear in professor-mode (and remembering how to tie a single-windsor knot so that my tie evens up), I’m not surprised that my mom has said to me these past two years, “You need to grow out your hair.”
My poor mom — she has three daughters, and none of us is even remotely girly. But I think I’ve been the most extreme in looking more guy-like these days. I’m not consciously trying to, although I suspect it has something to having a son, being single, and swearing off dating until my kid is much much older — like graduating from high school. Or voting.
Whatever. I look *good* in a frock coat, dammit. It’s slimming, it has that satisfying swingy-flappiness when I dance around the classroom like the nutty professor that I am, and it makes me feel like a grown-up without having to wear stupid pantyhose and high heels.
However, my mom may have a point. It’s been really cold this winter, and I really miss having my ears and neck not be freezing. Also, maintaining this short hair has become a bit of a pain (since I’ve been cutting my own hair with the aid of multiple mirrors, bright lighting, and a very VERY steady hand).
Oh, the growing-out-short-hair phase will be god-awful-ugly. But — yeah — time to kinda look like a girl again.
I guess. ::shrug::