Rachael Eyre's Blog - Posts Tagged "gender-and-identity"
Weird Girl Notes: Sister, Not Mister
In some of my Weird Girl blogs I'll be discussing issues that affect women, and gay and bi women in particular. Today we'll look at something that happens to far too many of us: being mistaken for male.
The first time this happened to me I was seventeen and working on a checkout. I was wearing the standard supermarket uniform - blouse, scarf and gilet, my name prominently displayed. I was helping a customer with her shopping and she said, "Thanks, lad."
I thought I had misheard, but when she repeated it moments later, I realised she genuinely believed I was a boy. Yes, my hair was bobbed and I wasn't wearing makeup (I still don't), but surely my voice, face and the fact I was wearing a freaking badge with my name on it should have tipped her off?
Once you've let somebody get away with it, it's surprisingly difficult to turn round and say, "Actually I'm a girl." It seems rude, even though they're the ones who made the faux pas in the first place. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt - she was an older lady, so perhaps her vision wasn't the best. When it started to happen on a regular basis, in and out of work, it went from being mildly entertaining to downright infuriating. It still happens often enough - at least once every few months - for me to be stung, and I never recover in time to put them right. The last time was last week, when I was going through customs at Manchester airport.
The strangest thing about this continued misidentification is I honestly don't resemble a boy. At all. I'm not tall and wiry - I'm below average height for a girl (five foot four) and on the voluptuous side. Yes, I never wear skirts, but my clothes are definitely female clothes: trousers or jeans, smart tops or T-shirts. I favour my Converse sneakers above all other footwear, but it can't be outside the realm of possibility for a woman to wear them. Even now I've swapped my androgynous square glasses for a daintier set, the offensive mix up goes on. I've had people say, "I can't tell if you're male or female" when I've been wearing a dress.
I thought my problem was unique, but when I chatted about it with my female friends, many of whom are lesbian or bi, a pattern emerged. The most frustrating part, we all agreed, is that even when the person realises they've made a mistake, they make no attempt to apologise. One woman had the nerve to say to a friend - a soft butch - "whatever [sex] you might be." While most people aren't as obnoxious, they pull a face that says, "If you didn't look like that, I wouldn't have cocked up", as though their lousy observational skills are your fault.
To put it bluntly: if many people see something other than the quintessential long hair, makeup and skirts of femininity, it doesn't compute that the person they're looking at is female. I was once advised in an interview - by a woman, no less - to wear cosmetics and jewellery "so they can tell you're a girl." Complete strangers think they have the right to critique your appearance; I can't go into certain stores without the fake baked, garishly painted staff harassing me to have a makeover. Perhaps I'm being overly sensitive, but since this seems to happen to a disproportionate number of lesbian and bi women, you wonder if it's a veiled form of gay bashing.
Whichever spin you put on it, this trend isn't positive. In the best case scenario they're ignorant and haven't looked at you properly. In the worst their worldview only accepts a toilet door notion of women and they feel threatened by anything that challenges it.
A common response to my dilemma is to say, "Well, if it upsets you so much, why don't you ..." with undoubtedly well meaning suggestions to glam up. This is playing into the precise prejudice I'm talking about: that the problem is somehow with me, not with society. Why should women have to change their appearance for the sake of a few yahoos?
Stay fabulous, ladies!
The first time this happened to me I was seventeen and working on a checkout. I was wearing the standard supermarket uniform - blouse, scarf and gilet, my name prominently displayed. I was helping a customer with her shopping and she said, "Thanks, lad."
I thought I had misheard, but when she repeated it moments later, I realised she genuinely believed I was a boy. Yes, my hair was bobbed and I wasn't wearing makeup (I still don't), but surely my voice, face and the fact I was wearing a freaking badge with my name on it should have tipped her off?
Once you've let somebody get away with it, it's surprisingly difficult to turn round and say, "Actually I'm a girl." It seems rude, even though they're the ones who made the faux pas in the first place. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt - she was an older lady, so perhaps her vision wasn't the best. When it started to happen on a regular basis, in and out of work, it went from being mildly entertaining to downright infuriating. It still happens often enough - at least once every few months - for me to be stung, and I never recover in time to put them right. The last time was last week, when I was going through customs at Manchester airport.
The strangest thing about this continued misidentification is I honestly don't resemble a boy. At all. I'm not tall and wiry - I'm below average height for a girl (five foot four) and on the voluptuous side. Yes, I never wear skirts, but my clothes are definitely female clothes: trousers or jeans, smart tops or T-shirts. I favour my Converse sneakers above all other footwear, but it can't be outside the realm of possibility for a woman to wear them. Even now I've swapped my androgynous square glasses for a daintier set, the offensive mix up goes on. I've had people say, "I can't tell if you're male or female" when I've been wearing a dress.
I thought my problem was unique, but when I chatted about it with my female friends, many of whom are lesbian or bi, a pattern emerged. The most frustrating part, we all agreed, is that even when the person realises they've made a mistake, they make no attempt to apologise. One woman had the nerve to say to a friend - a soft butch - "whatever [sex] you might be." While most people aren't as obnoxious, they pull a face that says, "If you didn't look like that, I wouldn't have cocked up", as though their lousy observational skills are your fault.
To put it bluntly: if many people see something other than the quintessential long hair, makeup and skirts of femininity, it doesn't compute that the person they're looking at is female. I was once advised in an interview - by a woman, no less - to wear cosmetics and jewellery "so they can tell you're a girl." Complete strangers think they have the right to critique your appearance; I can't go into certain stores without the fake baked, garishly painted staff harassing me to have a makeover. Perhaps I'm being overly sensitive, but since this seems to happen to a disproportionate number of lesbian and bi women, you wonder if it's a veiled form of gay bashing.
Whichever spin you put on it, this trend isn't positive. In the best case scenario they're ignorant and haven't looked at you properly. In the worst their worldview only accepts a toilet door notion of women and they feel threatened by anything that challenges it.
A common response to my dilemma is to say, "Well, if it upsets you so much, why don't you ..." with undoubtedly well meaning suggestions to glam up. This is playing into the precise prejudice I'm talking about: that the problem is somehow with me, not with society. Why should women have to change their appearance for the sake of a few yahoos?
Stay fabulous, ladies!
