I had a fantastic time at the Dark Side on Saturday, the theme was Gothic Beach Party and frankly I think I looked amazing. Also The Jellicle cat came and, in the words of M-i-L totally pwnd the dancefloor. He so cute!
I didn’t think twice about what I was wearing, I’d spent weeks being totally uninspired by the theme, all I could think of was black and white striped full piece bathing suits and I don’t have one of those nor the wearwithall to make one. Then it occurred. somewhere after my thoughts on what swimming costumes I do actually own (two: one purple onepiece and a black and pink two piece) that I’d go with my bottoms and some properly gothy black electrical tape over my nipples plus body painted palm trees.
I didn’t think twice once I’d got the idea, and why would I – it looked damn good, especially with my newly dyed bright pink hair. The I got to the Dark Side and within about ten minutes six people, none of whom I knew had told me I was ‘so brave’ for wearing what I was. I didn’t feel brave, I felt gorgeous, up until the comments at which point I asked FJ and Jozeph (two people practically guaranteed to tell me I looked fantastic) because I was wondering whether I am, finally, too old to carry this sort of thing off. The Jellicle’s efforts have resulted in a certain amount of extra podge and the prospect of Peru only gets me training so hard. I felt really… I’m not sure, off. I want to be me, but I don’t want to force myself on people and getting naked in a public is pretty much forcing myself on people who don’t really want to see that and if I don’t look as good as I think I do, that’s kind of unfair.
But, of course, I actually looked amazing and was just briefly non-confidant, but, I didn’t even consider that I shouldn’t wear so little for what should? shouldn’t? be more obvious reasons.
See, right at the end of the night, just before the final song, a guy walked up past me and quite deliberately grabbed my boobs before speedily continuing to walk. I was really pissed off, so I walked right after him, grabbed him and told him exactly what I thought before he shame-facedly mumbled something I assumed to be an apology (and took as one) and then I went back to dancing.
What really got me, right in the middle of my tummy, was looking up after the lights came back on to see the guy pointing directly at me whilst talking and laughing with his mates. Thinking I looked a bit on the fat side was nothing on the sudden feeling of total power loss I had then.
In roughly twenty seconds whilst I was telling FJ exactly what the lads behind him were doing my mind raced; the point that I’d had been grabbed had been about ten seconds after Jozeph had moved and the only point I’d danced alone (bizarrely enough for me) that night, (I highly doubt it was actually anything as planned as that), if I told one or two particular male friends of mine then there was a large possibilty that the guy would have ended beaten up – and for a few seconds I really wanted that to happen, if I told Non-Poncey Goth I could probably have got the guy and his mates thrown out…of course not much point ten minutes before chucking out time. Then one of his friends came up and I got a full apology.
But I found it interesting that I’d never even considered someone groping me whilst dressing or whilst anyone was telling me I was being brave wearing electrical tape. Is that because everyone’s friends at the Dark Side (though I didn’t recognise a large number of people there on Saturday), is it because I have completely forgotten to be careful, is it because I’ve been around good men for too long, or have I just got used to being able to deal with guys who want me that I get shocked when they do what men do and point me out to their friends?
I don’t know.
I felt confused and pissed off that the apology had meant nothing to him.
I was a bit concerned that for a brief moment I wanted some man to make physical violence happen for me.
Feminism happens somewhere in side me, just not all the time apparently.