Fall Fashion for Trans Guys Who May or May Not Still Be Closeted
In my opinion, Autumn is probably the best time to be a trans guy! Just look at what comes up when you search “men’s fall fashion!”
But why does this make me so happy? Because it instantly gets cold enough for big sweaters, long-sleeved plaid shirts, closed-toed shoes and long pants. And what’s more, the department stores carry this clothing in bulk.
But what if you’re not really out yet? What if you can’t sneak over to the boys’/men’s section while you’re clothes shopping with mom?
The most besterest thing about fall is you can find all these things also in the girls’/women’s section.
Some things that can be a closeted, dysphoric trans guy’s best friends during fall:
Boyfriend pants. I shit you not, they’re literally fitted like men’s pants. Buy them a size larger than you need and you’re instantly presenting as masculine, and make sure they’re not cuffed. The pockets are big, and if you can’t find them at walmart, the best brand I found is on wish.com by the store helen belli. They’re soft, inexpensive, durable, and arrive in about 2 weeks.
Button up white shirts. Women’s button up whites are easy enough to find, but they’re often fitted in the waist and have little boob-pockets. So what do you do?
Stick a vest or a nice sweater over it! Vests and sweaters are always available in stores during fall and winter. Buy some in different colors that make you feel more masculine. Maybe buy a size larger than you need if you feel self-conscious about the fit around your bust or waist area.
Large sweaters and sweatshirts! These were my life-saver in my youth. I would get the most neutral-looking ones (usually black or gray) and I would buy them two or three sizes too large. They would engulf me and give me a shapeless figure, which I loved. Worn with a pair of baggy pants, or cargo-shorts my brother outgrew, this outfit gave me a less-feminine appearance and helped make me feel more like myself.
Beanies and knitted scarves! Beanies. They’re good for attempting to tuck up your hair (bobby pins are your bffs in this case), or if you have a short cut they’re good at hiding it if mom likes to style your hair like a cute little pixie cut or with little clips and such before you leave for school. I never went anywhere without my beanie. And why scarves? I never liked them, but they can be used in different ways to hide a thin, feminine neckline or collar bones, or just because scarves look cool and keep you warm.
Socks and shoes? So, my sock choice was always meant to make my legs look more boyish. Now I like crazy socks. But if you’re looking for less femininity in your ankles, mid-length black or white athletic socks are good. And shoes are generally neutral, go for a pair of black or tan vans, or some kind of high tops or hiking boots, and you’re good to go!
Plaid. Enough said ;)
I hope this has helped, It is in no way intended to uphold gender roles, only to help those of us who wish to feel more comfortable in our own bodies.
Freshman year, Dex hated it. He and Nursey spend all their sober time bickering; fighting nonstop about everything from politics to slapshot form to whether ketchup belongs on scrambled eggs (Dex will never fucking admit it, but he’s actually started to find it delicious; Nursey can never know). But the second Nursey slips over the line from tipsy to drunk, he’s Dex’s best friend–hanging off Dex’s shoulders, draping his feet into Dex’s lap, hell, draping himself into Dex’s lap, two hundred pounds and then some of languid muscle. He’s sweet when he’s drunk, his chirps soft and fond instead of scathing, and his fingertips are gentle when they wander over Dex’s skin, dipping under the collar of his t-shirt, brushing against the short hair at the nape of his neck.
And Dex hated it, because morning would come, and hungover Nursey is clingy too but not in the same way, and they were always back to sharpness, and Dex would have to pretend he didn’t get home from those kegsters and throw himself into very, very cold showers.
Sophomore year, it’s a little better. They’re friends more often than they’re not, but on the flip side, that means the rest of the team actually trusts Dex to be on Nursey Patrol (“If you don’t want to kill him all the time, we can probably trust you to make sure he doesn’t drink himself into a coma,” Bitty said cheerfully the first time, shoved Nursey, already tipsy, towards him, and disappeared onto the dance floor with a solo cup in his hand).
Except Nursey Patrol, he learns, doesn’t end with the kegster. No, Nursey Patrol ends with Nursey safe in his bed, at least out of his shoes but ideally in something comfortable enough to sleep in, after a cup or two of water and two tabs of Aspirin, his phone plugged in and the door to his room locked.
(Dex does not want to know the series of events that led to this level of Patrol being in place. If he thinks about it too hard, his chest starts to hurt, and he doesn’t wanna deal with that.)
“Dexy,” Nursey says, as Dex manhandles him down to his bed and then flops down next to him, hauling Nursey’s foot into his lap to start on his shoelaces, because Three Cups of Tub Juice Derek Nurse is not a Derek Nurse who has the coordination for tasks involving dexterity. Dex had said that, once, and Nursey had said “ha, Dexterity,” and giggled for ten minutes. “Dex, will you stay with me?”