Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts, absolutely.
It was a warm July afternoon like so many others. It began plainly enough, a sweet blue sky swimming with summer songbirds.
My girlfriend marched up to me and said, "You dress like an assh*le."
While I don't think a weekly bleaching and waxing counts as dressing, I agreed with the spirit of her assessment. Loving me is an act of courage, for sure.
In recognition of her valor, I conceded that I could do better, on one condition: that she show me the way.
Day 1: The honeymoon period
Giddy with the hope of possibly summoning my absent fashion sense, she started with a simple classic dude look. I'm wearing a textile that can either be used as a man's shirt or a picnic accessory with skinny black jeans.
The sleeves are rolled up because that's the cheat code for looking 40 percent more attractive as a dude. Things are looking promising from here.
Day 2: The clothes make the man (bike to work).
"Hey, you're biking to work with me today, so wear this and get your ass out of bed."
It's only day 2 and I've already lost control of my life.
Day 3: Attending prep school
Apparently you can wear shirts OVER other shirts? Pure heresy, but I consented. It's only day 3, but this is the point where I begin questioning her logic when I look back on the week.
Look at that outfit. In July? I think she might not have my safety and well-being in mind.
Day 4: The "Yes, I know I only own one pair of shoes" edition
Plain white T and a hoodie. Again with the jacket in the summer.
I'm concerned at this point she's playing dress-up with my clothes and Russian roulette with my life. I check to see if she's taken a life insurance policy out on me lately.
Day 5: The "Oh wait, this is going on the internet LOL" edition
She decides my closet is simply not enough. My poor neighbors start to wonder what the hell I actually do with my free time.
She eventually let me take off the heels that didn't fit, and I learned a few things about the pleasures of wearing a short skirt on a breezy day. Innocent bystanders were not amused.
Day 6: The stay home and Netflix all day outfit
She takes it easy on me after forcing me into drag the previous day. What isn't noted is that I had to attend a weekly dinner party, basketball shorts and all.
Day 7: [redacted]
Our lazy Sunday never called for getting dressed, so I didn't.
Although I choose to learn a few lessons from the non-drag days, I'm just glad I don't have to wear heels again.
