Easter has never been much of a holiday in my family; these days, it tends to pass with little more than a glance at the calendar.
It wasn’t always that way.
When I was growing up, we were Catholics, and Easter was a major production. The day began with Sunday Mass, followed by a full-family gathering at my aunt’s house for dinner. Afterward came the ritual egg hunt, which, for the younger set, was the real main event.
The preparation started well before Easter Sunday. My mother would sew new outfits for herself and my sister—carefully chosen fabrics, thoughtful details, everything just so. Meanwhile, my father and I followed a simpler tradition: we wore whichever suit had most recently joined our closets.
And that’s where the trouble started.
I remember feeling a quiet, persistent envy of my sister. She had the full Easter treatment: a new dress, new shoes, and, most enviably, a hat. My female cousins arrived just as elaborately turned out, each one a small parade of spring colors and carefully coordinated accessories.
I, on the other hand, was buttoned into a perfectly respectable and thoroughly uninspired suit.
Looking back, it’s hard not to smile at how clearly the divide presented itself, even then. The girls were allowed a kind of expressive transformation for the occasion; the boys were expected to look presentable and leave it at that.
I can’t help but wonder how many readers here experienced a similar kind of “Easter envy.”
And so it goes.
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| Wearing Stylewe |
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| Lon Chaney femulating in the 1925 film The Unholy Three. Click here to view this film on YouTube. |
Even though the first time I ever crossdressed was for a summer day camp show when I was given a role I never wished for and endured relentless teasing and endured a lot of shame over what happened, over time I began to envy the pretty girls who always seemed so sweet and feminine in their pretty dresses.
ReplyDeleteI started to wonder what it would feel like to get dressed up as a girl again? If I did it myself would I still feel the shame and embarrassment? At first I believed it could be a "one and done" sort of thing, but I was wrong. It brought more shame and self recrimination to my young teenaged mind.
Eventually, I stopped beating myself up for having those desires. I am not a woman, but a man who likes getting dressed up as a woman. I'm mostly in the closet and for now that's fine.
Emily