So today I am definitely one of the walking wounded--and extremely grouchy about it, too--and all because of Halloween. You see, I've been a huge fan of dressing up for Halloween since I was a little kid, and that enthusiasm (there's that word again!) only increased when I first came out and discovered that Halloween was like unto a major cultural holy day in the queer community calendar. So of course I was bound and determined to dress up yet again for this Halloween, only this year I added a few new twists:
- Whereas every previous Halloween for as far back as I can remember, I have dressed up femme (even as a kid, when I would get into all my mom's costume jewelry and makeup), this year I decided to make my very first foray into drag king.
- Whereas nearly every previous Halloween, I have dressed not as a specific identifiable character but more a generalized theme (usually some kind of hippy/Goddessy-looking rig with long flowy skirts and lots of earthy jewelry), this time I decided to try my hand at crossplay and dress up as some kind of homage to--nu, who else?--my current anime obsession, Lupin III.
These decisions, of course, presented a number of obvious challenges:
- The general challenge of approximating a male appearance;
- The more advanced challenge that the vast majority of anime characters, Lupin perhaps moreso than most, tend to be drawn as impossibly skinny and long-legged, whereas I am anything but.
That second point, alas, there was nothing I could do about. So I basically ignored it. Not that I wanted my portrayal to be a burlesque or a parody--far from it; it's just that the fangrrl in me really really
really wanted to do it, so I honored my inner child and went for it. Besides, I reasoned--correctly, as it turned out--in the context of the LGBT community events I was going to take this little bit of personal performance art to, the odds of anyone even getting the reference would be nearly non-existent, so I might as well have fun with a joke that probably only I would get.
As to the first point, well, there is a sizeable body of advice both online and in books on how to go about equipping yourself to do drag king, so I read up and started gathering and/or creating gear.
The men's clothing mostly came from thrift shops--I only had to cheat and go the women's clothing route with the iconic red blazer, because there simply were no guy's red blazers to be found in any size, let alone mine. But I lucked out and found an absolutely gorgeous bright-red menswear-styled blazer, wool and fully lined, for a buck--a steal the master thief would have had a good giggle over. I also lucked out on a truly gorgeous vintage square-bottom tie in a relatively subtle shade of yellow--yeah, I was going for accurate attire, but I also wanted this rig to be stylin' rather than buffoonish.
The chest binder I wound up making myself. I bought a couple of yards of white lingerie-quality spandex, used a snug-fitting tank top as a pattern, and stitched up a compression shirt that really did the trick and fit me quite comfortably--or so it seemed at the time; more on that anon. And for the iconic sideburns, I paid a visit to a theatrical makeup supply shop and purchased crepe wool and spirit gum.
Halloween afternoon, I settled in with my makeup kit and a mirror. It took a bunch of fuss and false starts--you try drawing symmetrical sideburns on your own face!--but when the smoke and expletives cleared, I was tickled to look in the mirror and see a pretty damn impressive pair of sideburns gracing my face. Some weeks previously I had started getting my hair cut short into a pretty butch hairstyle; I gave it a dose of spray-on black haircolor, and called the makeup part of the program done. I then climbed into my costume--including the rolled gym sock packy inside the (striped, of course) boxer shorts), and was ready to roll.
There were, however, a few problems with my rig that, while not apparent at first, eventually came back to bite my ass before the night was through:
- That compression shirt, while amazingly comfortable for the first couple of hours, really started to tax my bod as the night wore on.
- The shoes I was wearing--these great ankle-length black leather lace-up boots I had owned forever--were another case of "comfortable when first put on, more and more uncomfortable as time wore on." The issue here was lack of cushioning--even a pair of those damnfool gel inserts were not enough to protect me against a night of standing and walking on hard pavement and dancefloors.
- Southern California weather, even for Halloween night, tends to be a bit too balmy to be wearing a fully-lined wool blazer over a long-sleeved dress shirt and tie over a spandex compression shirt.
Problem #3 had me carrying my jacket rather more than wearing it, and eventually just stowing it altogether in the trunk of my car. Problem #2 caused the boots to also find their way into the trunk before evening's end, replaced by my beloved pair of Vans slip-ons. I decided to just tough it out with Problem #1, which may have been a tactical error.
For when I awoke this morning, boy was I ever a hurting unit. Back pain, complaining muscles, complaining hip joints, complaining knees, and a general feeling that, yep, I'd spent way too many hours squishing my torso with that compression shirt. Oddly enough, it was not my breasts that were complaining--it was my rib cage and sternum. When I had read up on breast-binding for drag king performance I had noted all the warnings about the hazards of binding too tightly. But those hazards seemed to be more associated with the use of elastic bandages and tape and other such makeshifts, and I thought my homemade compression shirt was no tighter than some girdles I had known in the Bad Old Days, so I thought I was alright. Guess not, huh? And even though I had ditched the boots for more comfortable shoes, apparently it wasn't soon enough to prevent a pounding for my knees and hips. Ow.
So after all that--after a day spent mostly sleeping, self-medicating, and taking hot soaking baths--can I say it was worth it? Hmmmmm ... maybe! I confess that, even though I thought I had emotionally prepared myself for having my costume go unrecognized all evening, it was still a bit of a bummer. I did at least get some nice compliments on the look from people who may not have known Lupin from a hole in the wall but who appreciated the drag king aspect of it--my favorite being the woman who said "nice tie!" in tones of admiration. And my friends, though nearly as unfamiliar with Lupin as the general population, were still incredibly complimentary on the general look--according to them, I definitely had the guy body language down as well as the costume and the sideburns.
Will I ever do any part of this again? Hmmmmm ... maybe! Another confession: though cosplaying at an anime convention might get my Lupin rig a hell of a lot more recognition, I am frankly intimidated about presenting as Fat Lupin to a crowd with so many cosplay perfectionists in it. It might be safer for my ego to make my first attempt at convention cosplay a character that's meant to be heavy-set. The problem, of course, will be finding such a character, let alone one I'd want to play. (Anyone tempted to suggest Super Mario: sorry, fuggeddaboutit!) But maybe I'll feel braver once I've gotten a little more familiar with that scene and had a chance to get over myself. God knows the desire to show off my vintage Airsoft replica Walther P-38 is huge enough to tempt me into all kinds of fun stupidity.
As for doing drag king again, the answer is an emphatic yes. That part, binder fatigue notwithstanding, was just way too much fun not to do it again. And fortunately, there are many exemplars of girthy drag kings out in the lesbian community. I'm especially intrigued with this dude
Murray Hill -- not only is his build like mine, but I really dig his style of humor. Plus in the process of shopping for my Lupin costume, I happened upon a terrific charcoal-gray pinstripe suit that fits me almost perfectly (the sleeves could use just a little shortening). After all, a great clothing find like that demands to be used. Plus I have enough left-over crepe wool to make at least another several dozen pairs of sideburns.
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