just whistling in the dark

one of my favourite things about dancing is watching the way different people construct their feminine facade and like just how visible the construction of femininity is. The parameters are a little more loose in Portland than other places, thus you get the girls in sneakers and the girls in modern dance sandal/thongs and weird mullet tutus.

The girls who wear the like… wacky portland stuff (tutus, &c) aren’t really as interesting to me as the girls who, like me, construct a femininity that’s fairly visibly different than their usual style. There’s Sparky the butch straight girl who wears basketball jerseys and has a bigger collection of expensive hightops than I do (mine is more intensely curated tho, modern jordans are ugs) but who transitions into a doe eyed street-walker stereotype in thigh high boots; or my transition from what has charitably been called “co-Ed shabby” to big haired leopard print bikini girl.

I like watching the way dancers actively create and market their images; that’s been one of the more fun parts for me since I started dancing again: playing with a barbie-like femininity, seeing what works, what doesn’t, laughing/raging at how contrived it is (especially when I noticed how my success rate went up with my higher pitched baby voice) and then taking a breather in back and seeing us, running eyeliner, caked makeup, sweaty hair, shoving food in our mouths without smudging lipstick and comparing labia and being in general incredibly gross and crass before sliding back into character and going backout without anyone being the wiser.


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