Wearing a Dress to Graduation

July 29th, 2022, Swansea Arena; Graduation. A day that will forever carry some level of importance to me.

As the title, and subtitle, of this post suggest, on that day I decided to be myself.

For more than a decade, I kept this side of me under wraps. Whenever I'd wear female-cut clothing out in public it would be of the kind that's only noticeable if you already know what to look for - neck openings being slightly larger, t-shirts having side-seams¹, buttons being on the other side, fabrics that are slightly softer, etc.

More recently however, and after way too many hours doom scrolling various Reddit pages, I decided this was becoming increasingly pointless. There was little point in trying to be myself if I was doing it in a way that was designed to blend in. I'd liken it to an attempt to being rebellious in the most rubbish of ways; like using a pastry fork to eat a crêpe, or using a microwave to boil water, you get the point.

So, in early March this year I decided to step out in a skirt. No matter how hard you try, that's harder to blend in². And, it was one of the best decisions I've ever made; even if it didn't yet have pockets, seriously, pockets are necessary.

Having worn them privately for years, this was nothing so new to me, I knew how to wear it, and where³. But my nerves didn't get the memo. Though I was only going a few hundred yards away from my room, my safe zone, I wasn't able to truly relax. Being constantly aware of what I was doing, and how I thought others might react. That evening, however, I was the most relaxed I'd been in years, and was so overjoyed with myself that I spent hours detailing the entire experience to a close friend.

The entire experience had been a positive affair, and a new avenue of exploration had opened.

If it fits, and you want to wear it, go for it.

For the next few months I routinely wore skirts both around my flat, and outside it. Before long I was receiving compliments of the highest order, more than once being told my style was "goals". And all I'd really done was swapped my cargo shorts for a pleated mini-skirt (with pockets of course); I was still wearing the same collection of nerdy t-shirts under the obligatory zip hoodie.

By this point it had become entirely natural to me. I moved through a phase of "wearing a skirt" to "wearing clothes", an important distinction.

When the day of Graduation arrived. An ever so slightly formal⁴ event where almost every second person will congratulate you without even question. Rather than the obligatory shirt-and-tie therefore, I decided I'd be myself, and wear what I wanted.

So, as the title of this piece implies. I wore a dress.

It went well. Aside from not having pockets.

Something weird happens, when you're wearing non-bifurcated garments (a fancy way of saying something that isn't split in the middle). People seem to act differently. Upon setting off the airport-style metal detection gate on the way into the venue I wasn't double-checked with a wand or a pat-down, but the person behind me, who also set the gate off, was. It was assumed that the zip on my zip hoodie set the gate off, but this was not checked. Nor was my bag - it was opened yes, but upon seeing a camera it was immediately ok'd. I wonder what I could have got away with?

People also seem more open to compliment, regardless of who is wearing the skirt. In barely a few months of wearing them publicly, I've received considerably more positive feedback than from a lifetime of being "suited and booted" when required. I suspect this is as much down to a sense of having the courage to be myself, as it is the more general sense for skirt-wearers to more commonly comment on each other's style. And this, I think again, is because it requires a greatly increased sense of confidence to wear a skirt; opening yourself up to increased exposure, increased scrutiny, and decreased mobility.

The first of these came from the gentleman who signed me in, I'd "chosen well". Maybe I had, realistically it was my first time wearing a dress, and it was chosen sight-unseen. Following this a series of compliments from the ladies handling the robes, I had "colour matched things nicely" to "set off the colours of the hood". With black robes this was hardly difficult, but I had spent a not insignificant amount of time finding an underskirt that would balance out my frame. And with it being white, it complimented the silver stripe on the hood beautifully.

Much of the remainder of the day went as expected, a long wait in an auditorium, walking across the stage to doff my cap toward the chancellor, nothing too wild. Though I must say the robes felt like a cross between a cape and a curtain, perpetually feeling like they were falling off. The hood wasn't much better either, despite having hooked it under my collar it still felt like I was being half-strangled most of the time. Graduation robes are definitely constructed with suit and tie in mind.

As soon as the ceremony was over therefore, and after the obligatory photos had been captured, the robes were ditched without pause. Leaving me to now wander through a packed crowd of people, to collect my zip-hoodie. Feeling more exposed than ever. Despite being entirely accustomed to wearing a skirt, this was something new, something foreign.

This was, until I caught a glimpse of my reflection.

Suddenly I didn't feel exposed, I felt awesome (it does need pockets though).