When I got dressed tonight to go flyering. But the event listing said that people in costume would pay five bucks less, so I thought, well, why not. Also, when you go out as a Gypsy in an official capacity (i.e. distributing flyers) you're supposed to dress up.
So I put on essentially the same outfit I wore the night we danced at the Odeon, except that I threw on a short black crinoline over the red sequinned hotpants. Because I am demure and all. Also no doorway-brushing false eyelashes. But everything else--large-gauge fishnets, black-and-red striped stockings over the fishnets, platform boots over the stockings, etcetera, all the way up to the feather hair doodads, I put on.
It's a big look. It's a stand-up-straight look, especially since the combination of boots and feathers just highlights that I'm the tallest member of the troupe. Can't slouch in it, can't pick my nose, can't not be on.
Also can't walk through my neighborhood, so Lujah and Sage picked me up and we drove a ridiculously short distance.
Which is why it wasn't until we all got out of the car that I realized I was fine.
They were both wearing chunky high-heeled boots and short skirts.
They were both wearing garter belts and fishnets; Lujah's were exactly the same kind as mine.
Sage was wearing striped stockings over her fishnets.
They were both wearing bustiers.
Lujah was wearing a kitty-ears hat.
I am trying to remember a time in my life when I was dressed essentially the same way as other women outside of a uniform/costume context, and failing. I was always the one who was just a little bit off. My pants were flooding or the wrong brand, I was wearing the wrong color, I looked like "an upper-class bag lady" (no, I never went out with him again, thanks for asking), the stuff I still liked was hopelessly eighties, whatever.
I believe I have found my people.