+... well, that's not quite right; "socially-acceptable" isn't the concept I want. I live in goddamned _"Portland"_. (Which is actually Berkeley, but when I started my pseudonymous gender blog, I took my savvy friends' cowardly and paranoid advice to obfuscate even my location, and now I have to keep saying "'Portland'" for backwards compatibility, even though at this point my bad opsec is more akin to a genre convention or a running joke, rather than a real attempt to conceal my identity.) Everyone _and her dog_ has trans friends here. My new young male coworker just staight-up wears a dress and makeup some days, and no one bats an eye. (My attempt to "Blanchpill" him was ... uneventful.)
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+So if I don't need to fear getting beaten up or even menacing stares, why do I need conventions to dress up? Could part of it be that I'm too old? (The fact that I wouldn't be caught dead wearing a dress _to work_ (!!) probably has something to do with my sense of propriety being calibrated to the world of 'aught-six, in contrast to my coworker, who I guess would have come of age in the _Obergefell_- and Jenner-era world of 'fifteen.)
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+Maybe. But I think another part of it is that I don't
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