Leftist chick self-flagellates because she doesn’t find her dress-wearing boyfriend sexy

Female author at The Guardian: My boyfriend’s wedding dress unveiled my own shortcomings over masculinity.
(Via Ace: http://ace.mu.nu/archives/386163.php)

This is a hilarious work of Stalinist self-criticism. A chick whose brain is colonized by the leftist mind-virus gropes toward rediscovering what any sane, normal human being could have told her: A man in a dress is ridiculous. But she rejects the obvious truth and rebukes herself for being insufficiently woke. This is what leftism does to people’s minds.

I’ve excepted it here; comments in bold.


I’m quick to blame men for their toxic behavior, but in this case, I, the woman, was part of the problem.

My gaze scanned the racks of clothing and stopped abruptly on something I’d never expected to see: my boyfriend was clutching a wedding dress – that he wanted to buy for himself.

“Emily!” he cried with victorious glee. “I’ve found the one!”

Ian thrust the white garment into the air like a trophy. Its lace sleeves sashayed from the tapered bodice and fluffy tulle grazed the tiles of the thrift store floor.

“Oh, wow,” I managed to spit out. LOL.

We were searching for dresses to wear during the annual Mother’s Day Climb up Mount St. Helens, a tradition in which everyone scaling the volcano sports flowing garments.

I knew Ian would be among the most outrageous on the mountain. My boyfriend is aggressively fun and a flair fanatic, Uh-oh which I find wildly attractive on most occasions. Stop lying.

But I found myself unexpectedly uneasy with his new fondness for feminine frocks – a reaction that challenged the progressive ideals I’d prided myself on for decades. Yes! Admit your guilt, fascist! I’d long thought I was contributing to a progressive shift in how we define masculinity, finally allowing men to be emotional and vulnerable, or to ask for help, or to hug their male friends … or to wear dresses.

Men are perfectly capable of asking for help. If I ever need to know how to field strip an AK-47, I’ll ask a guy friend. If I ever want to know about trendy hair styles, NO, that was to see if you’re paying attention! Like that scene in In and Out where Kevin Kline is tricked into saying “What a fabulous window treatment!”

As far as hugging male friends, you’re allowed to do that under certain circumstances – the most obvious one being that you’re on a professional sports team and you just won the playoffs. Then your team is expected to embrace each other, while popping champagne and dumping a barrel of Gatorade onto your coach. You can also do it in other circumstances if you do it right. If you don’t have an intuitive sense of where the line is, just err on the side of no hugs, duh.

While I’m on the subject, Dave Barry: “When is it okay to kiss another male? When he is your brother and you are Al Pacino and this is the only really sportsmanlike way to let him know that, for business reasons, you have to have him killed.” (The Kiss of Death.) And I’m kinda leery of that. Can’t you just have him canceled without going through the bourgeois formalities?

Ian giggled. “Isn’t it beautiful?” His chest hair battled the sheer neckline. God, this is gross. I imagined him skiing down Mount St Helens in it, the lengthy rag concealing his chiseled calves and hardened quadriceps, and strained to find it an appealing vision.

This was not the first time I’d found myself a little uncomfortable with the sight of Ian in women’s wear. I hate to repeat myself, but: LOL. It’s not an unusual sight to spot him sporting a skirt, dress, or sarong at a party, picnic, or trailhead. Acknowledge the obvious, honey. He uses his unconventional apparel as a display of his individuality and a reflection of his fondness for fun. What’s a three-letter synonym for “fun” or “festive”? Starts with “G”. I adore both of those qualities, but I was realizing I was less fond of seeing them exhibited through floral numbers or tight sequined garments or wedding dresses.

While it was attraction-at-first sight with Ian, his closet full of feminine gear TALK ABOUT BURYING THE LEDE! put a tiny dent in his desirability from the very beginning… there was a disconnect between what I thought I was OK with a man wearing, and what I actually found appealing on his body.

Honey, your vagina does not want a man in a dress. Your vagina is smarter than your brain. I don’t often say this to women, but: Go with your vagina.

On the first weekend we hooked up, I had to yank a green sparkly dress over his head to unclothe him.

You need to be much, much LESS open-minded.

“That was the first time I’ve undressed a man – from a dress!” I shrieked the next morning. “Oh girl, what an exciting milestone! Congratulations!” hollered Eli, an effervescent gay man who dons many dresses himself.

Intellectually, I enjoyed that Ian was rejecting gender norms and expectations. But physically, my desire didn’t match. Those feelings illuminated some unanticipated boundaries of where I define attractiveness in men and when I still crave traditional masculinity.

You might ask yourself why traditional masculinity is traditional.

My ex-boyfriend had the emotional depth of a paper airplane and couldn’t engage with the deep pain I was enduring – or any other emotion, period. Dweeby, and probably not true, but a typical chick statement, so we’ll make allowances. When I started hanging out with Ian and he immediately wanted to talk about feelings, it was a gulp of ice-cold lemonade on a 98-degree day. Dweeby but a typical chick statement. I’d been craving this vulnerability and openness from the men I dated. Dweeby but a typical chick statement. Conversations like that one drew me to him, as did his emotional openness, his fondness for communication, and his public displays of affection for close male friends. Dweeby but WAIT, FUCKING WHAT!? Unless your boyfriend is a mob boss who’s having rat-finks iced, this signals a problem.

My boyfriend’s wedding dress Honey, pause and reflect here: Your relationship involves sequences of words like “My boyfriend’s wedding dress.” pushed me to perform a scrupulous inventory of my deepest ideas about masculinity and helped me identify my shortfalls as a woman who wants to help rewrite gender norms. As I went through this exercise, I chatted with a handful of girlfriends about it, who could all identify their own small hang-ups with masculinity: their need for men who are bigger and taller than they are, or who are better than them at sports, or who don’t cry in front of them. LOL.

As we interrogated our feelings about masculinity, we recognized gaps between our ideals and reality. I’m quick to blame men for perpetuating toxic behavior, but in this case, I, the woman, was part of the problem.

Yeah, you’re an enabler.

Mother’s Day dawned sunny and crisp in the Washington Cascades. It was a beautiful day for a wedding dress. Depends who’s wearing it.

After we reached the summit, Ian plunged down the frozen slope, his long, white train flowing behind him, whipping from side-to-side like a lacy windsock.

“Do you find your boyfriend as attractive as I do?” whispered Eli, as we watched Ian in his flowing skirt, his laughing smile nearly detectable through the back of his floral sunhat. You can’t make this shit up.

My eyes chased my boyfriend down the mountain, my sensitive, silly, affectionate, emotional, vulnerable boyfriend – skiing in his wedding dress.

“I do,” I promised[, lying my ass off.]


Someone needs to tell this woman that the thing she suspects about her boyfriend is, in fact, true.

Bonus: Sidebar at the Guardian article: “Masculinity is a trap – which is why more men should wear skirts.” The haute reaches of the left really are just trolling their own followers now to see how much they can get away with before the followers are like, “Wait a minute.”

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