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During the year I spent in Scotland, I listened almost exclusively to an all-girls playlist. Hits by my role models Charli XCX and Sky Ferreira fuelled my spirits and imagination as I pretended to live the ultimate cool-alternative-girl fantasy of the mid-2010s. But my reality was very adidas originals different.
Of all the countless musical strolls I went on during those 12 months (and there were many), one will always stand out in my memory. As I was walking back from my job as a French-language assistant, I passed the various clothing stores along Glasgow’s Buchanan Street with my headphones on and was surrounded by women’s clothing. I passed window after window, each filled with countless pairs of shoes, oversized hats, skinny jeans…. You name it, it was there.
And then there was this black dress — an elegant tight black dress with long sleeves — from a well-known fastfashion chain. It looked as gorgeous as it looked comfortable, and for a second, I could see myself in it.
But I didn’t end up buying it. I never even bothered to step adidas yeezy into the store — not because it was outside of my budget or because it didn’t have my size. The truth is, I was a woman only in spirit; I wasn’t out yet to the outside world. To my co-workers, my roommate and the staff in that shop, I was a boy — a boy who couldn’t wear dresses.
At that point, early in my gender transition, the thought of buying a “women’s garment” was terrifying. Every step I took toward femininity felt like advancing into the unknown. Part of me wanted to scream my womanhood to the world, but the rest of me still wanted to keep everything secret inside