Another clothes shopping rant

At this time of year it’s too cold to be naked at home like I usually am and I start craving new pajamas to lounge in. I’m a fan of the classic flannel two-piece kind in adorable prints. My current ones are all a few years old and looking a little rough. Also they’re probably a bit ridiculous looking because they’re at least four inches too short in the legs and arms.

Since there are a bunch of black cyber whatever sales going on right now I decided to poke around online and see if anyone had anything good. I am mightily discouraged.

One place had extra-tall women’s PJs but only in a fairly staid print and $95. My current pairs of PJs were $20-$24 btw*. You can’t fucking tell me four more inches of fabric cost $70. Fuck you.

Another place also only had one pair in a boring print. They were reasonably priced at $30ish but when I checked the size chart the inseam length was 32″. On their tall size. Fuck you.

Another place had tall sizes in boring prints but they cost $79 and their size chart – though it helpfully showed a drawing of a woman with arrows pointing to all the places to measure to ensure proper fit and inseam length was one of them – did not list what the inseam length of their tall-size garments actually is. Fuck you.

Another place had tall sizes but no cute prints and their size chart mentioned nothing about inseam whatsoever. Fuck you.

I then decided fuck it, I’d rather pay $20 for something that’s cute but too short. So I looked at the Wal Mart, Target, and La Senza websites and curiously none of them had what I wanted at all. It was all weird thin sweatpants-and-tank-tops type sets that were too revealing and not warm enough, except for one pair of two-piece plaid thermal pajamas at La Senza whose top half was totally the classic long-sleeved button-up PJ top but whose bottom half was, inexplicably, booty shorts. Fuck you.

So I searched a few cheapie places online for men’s two-piece flannel pajamas because at least those might be long enough and maybe there would be some interesting patterns, right? I mean, not pink cupcakes, obviously, but cartoon characters or something? Nope. I HOPE YOU LIKE BLUE PLAID BECAUSE THAT IS ALL THAT EXISTS ANYWHERE EVER.

And by the way, because I’m hourglass-shaped, according to the size charts of every single website I looked at, a pair of pajamas big enough to accommodate my hips would be five or six inches too big in the waist. SIGH.

Just…I mean…a lot of my gigs pay me in cash and I’ve got like $600 burning a hole in my dresser drawer and nobody has anything that’s cute and would fit me and isn’t trying to gouge me price-wise.

Yeah, I know, first-world problems. But still.

*And have puppies and cupcakes on them, respectively!


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Date was fine. Dude was cute-ish, made decent conversation (expressed interest in me via asking me things).

I don’t think we’re compatible, though. His first message to me was asking me if I’m seeking a submissive right now (which implies he’s looking for a relationship, right? Or am I crazy?), but when we were face-to-face he said he really only wanted casual kinky play, nothing too serious. And he’s not a masochist at all, and the stuff he is interested in is all pretty directly sexual and I already have people for that – people who also let me hit ’em too.

Also he had a fairly annoying amount of entitlement. Via text he’d told me that he’s been to some kink events and I thought that was pretty cool because so many dudes won’t go to events because they feel too conflicted about their kinks (“I can’t let other humans see me at a kink event! They’ll know I’m kinky!!!!”) or whine that they’re too shy to possibly go to anything ever. But when I asked him more about that tonight he sulkily said that yeah, he’d been to a couple of munches, but they hadn’t worked. I said “worked?” and he clarified: “I didn’t end up meeting anyone to play with.” And whined that there were too many other men at the things he’d gone to. Munches, if you don’t know, are social events that are explicitly marketed as not for picking people up. They’re just places where you can talk to like-minded people and maybe make friends (and I’m sure some people do meet partners there, and that’s fine, but the point is you’re not supposed to go there and eye everyone up like a piece of meat and be all focused on whose pants you can get into).

A little later in the conversation he asked if I had any interest in playing with him sometime and I said maybe (he hadn’t irritated me to capacity yet at that point), but I wasn’t sure yet and would like to develop more of a rapport. I asked if he’d come to an upcoming munch with me – one that always starts off with a little presentation/discussion, which I love because I love talking about the philosophy of kink and the discussion acts as an icebreaker after during the “free period” where we all just hang out and talk to each other. He was like “Ugggh, I dunno. There’s all that talking.”

So although he didn’t come off as especially pushy toward me when we met, he absolutely seemed to feel that absolutely any activity not guaranteed to end in naked kinky stuff was a waste of time, and that’s not gonna fly with me. Plus I feel misled about what he wanted. Plus although his (latest) claim is that he’s submissive but only in bed, I get a pretty strong vibe that he would not actually submit so much as want me to tell him to do things he already wanted to do.

Doesn’t seem like this is going anywhere.😛

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Still cranky

So the most recent dumbassery with this guy I’m meeting tonight is we were texting last night and I mentioned that sometimes I pose for art classes in costume and that when I’m in a wig and makeup I look completely unlike myself and people don’t even recognize me. I guess it came up that one of the schticks I do is a cabaret singer sorta thing. He asked what that entailed, costume-wise. I said a long black skirt, a black tank top, heels, a red wig, and red lipstick. And he was all “Whoa. I need a minute after that” and then a few minutes later claimed that he’d had a cold shower because that outfit just sounded so hot.

I debated replying “Am I supposed to be flattered that you think I’d be hot if I looked nothing like myself, or…?” but ultimately just didn’t say anything at all and eventually he texted me on some different topic and we went from there.

Like I know I have baggage around being misgendered because of my hair and also dudes whining that I’m not “feminine enough” or whatever but he is being kind of rude, right? I had just finished telling him that I am unrecognizeable in a wig and makeup and five minutes later he’s telling me that his mental picture of me in a wig and makeup is hot. Also, it’s hella weird for me that my straightforward description was such a big damn deal to him. If me just saying the words “red lipstick and heels” gives him a boner then I have a feeling he fetishizes performative femininity to a degree that will not work for me. Also he was kind of sexualizing me without my consent. I was telling him about what I do for a living, and although that cabaret singing character is meant to be kinda sexy, it’s still just a performance I’m doing for work. Him telling me he wants to jerk off to my work persona is not especially welcome.

Another annoying thing is that he started that particular spate of texting by saying “we can talk about kink some more if you want. Or not. Whatever.” I’ve had a lot of guys be like that – broach the subjects of kink or sex while openly acknowledging that these are topics that might be uncomfortable or too forward for me. So why did they bring them up?

I mean, look. The idea that all men are horndogs – false though it is – is saturated through our entire culture. I promise you there are basically no women, dominant or otherwise, who talk to a suitor and really want to talk about sex or kink but aren’t sure if it would be welcome. We pretty much assume that anytime we want to start being explicit about that stuff, the dude we’re talking to will be perfectly enthusiastic about it (or, worst-case scenario, not want to go there yet but not feel threatened or pushed, either). So just STFU AND LET US BRING SHIT UP WHEN WE FEEL LIKE IT. Because when you keep trying to steer things there with a woman, she probably will feel threatened or pushed.

At this point, when it comes to dating, I am in a dilemma where on one hand I worry that I’m too picky but on the other hand I worry that I’m not picky enough. Sometimes people who initially didn’t catch my fancy that much turn out to be great (my first meeting with The Bunny was pretty “meh” as I recall…); sometimes the qualities we think we want in someone turn out not to be the things that actually work for us. On the other hand, I’ve never ever had a red flag turn out to be nothing, and this guy has so far given red flags for being way overly eager, a bit pushy, and not being super great at listening to me when I tell him what I want. Like honestly his first message to me on FL was to ask me if I’m looking for partners now and my profile openly says that I am. I was tempted to just block him for that alone, but thought that would be too bitter and paranoid. But the flags just keep on coming so…

I suppose the happy medium is to immediately drop the hammer when someone shows a red flag, but to try to be more open-minded with anyone who shows appropriate courtesy etc but may not initially seem hot or compatible.

On a side note, remember me mentioning earlier that I have baggage about not being seen as feminine enough or womaning correctly? I found an insanely hot chick on Fetlife who wants a makeout partner and I messaged her volunteering my services. But she specified wanting femmes. So…that may have been stupid. But I have a lingering hope that women are less annoying and rigid in the way they define femme-ness than men are. Like maybe to your average gay or bi lady, my extreme hourglass figure and delicate features would read as “feminine” to them whereas men just fixate on “dress, heels, and long hair y/n?”

I dunno.

I’ll let you all know how my date with this vaguely red-flaggy dude goes. I’m kind of just doing it to get it over with at this point; I don’t think it’s likely to become anything.


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I was gonna take a breather from new guys for a while but one plunked into my Fetlife inbox of his own accord and he’s local and seems to have potential so curiosity has gotten the better of me.

We’ve been texting and this just happened:

Him: What other kinky fantasies do you have, miss? [This makes it sound like we’d been sexting but really it was a fairly clinical discussion of kinks to try to establish compatibility] Also what do you like to be called?

Me: My name.🙂

Him: Fair. I just meant like if you had a kinky title.

Me: I’ve never had a title that struck my fancy. I made one guy call me Beautyprincess but that was more to make fun of the convention of kink titles, and to see how far he’d go. Making him call me something over-the-top silly with a straight face amused me.

Him: I meant like miss or mistress or like that.

Me: Yes, I know what you mean by “title.” That is what I’ve been responding to you about.

Him: Oops sorry.

Me: Maybe you were really hoping I was misunderstanding you because you wanted to start calling me something, but there is nothing I want to be called by right now except my name and you’ll have to live with that.

Him: Lol I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.

Me: Have I been unclear in some way by saying there’s no title that strikes my fancy?

Him: I just didn’t know if you meant the classic miss or mistress sort of thing. Apologies, Cowgirl. Won’t happen again.🙂

Me: Thank you. And on that note, I should start winding down for sleep.

He apologized, called me by my name as requested, and indicated that he wouldn’t slip up again, so I’m not bailing on him yet. But that conversation was really starting to piss me off. Like I kept saying there is no title I want to be called and it’s like he was doing all kinds of mental gymnastics to convince himself that I must just not be understanding his question and surely I secretly longed to be called “miss” or “mistress.”

There have been other small red flags that he doesn’t pay attention so well and is a bit overly kink focused, too. So I’m starting to sour on this one a little bit. But I’m not quite ready to give up yet.


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Just realized that The Pedant no longer sends me his work schedule every week. Which, I mean, obviously, because we aren’t dating. Still though, it’s one more thing I’ve lost; one more thing to adjust to. In a weird way it reminds me of when I quit my office job that had come with a bunch of perks (discounts at various stores, special rates at a particular bank) and a few weeks after I quit, mail started trickling in from all these places letting me know the perks were now cut off. It kind of made the big change in my life more real.

Anyway, The Pedant and I had a few weeks of radio silence as we processed the breakup but now he’s occasionally interacting with me on Facebook, so I guess he is trying to cultivate some sort of friendship. That would be nice. We don’t work too well as a couple but there are things I like about him and I don’t want him gone from my life.

It’s sort of a relief not to know his schedule anymore. I did so much of the work in that relationship, including comparing our respective schedules and trying to plan times for us to get together – plans he didn’t always agree to. And then maybe I’d hear that he’d gone to a concert, on a week that he was “working too much” and “too exhausted” to see me. Or I’d pick a good time for him to come over and he’d say that he couldn’t stay over that night because he had a really early start the next day – but his schedule had said he started at 2pm or something. And I’d gotten to a point with The Pedant where I kinda-sorta wondered if he might be lying to me. I got a vibe from him that he vaguely scared of me (or of who he wrongly assumed I am) and felt he had to justify his use of time to me – he would often recite his work schedule to me in tedious detail as proof that he couldn’t come over at a certain time, or list off a bunch of things that had happened to him that made him too busy or tired to see me, when I had not asked him to account for every moment of his week and really didn’t care. I trusted him and took him at face value: if he’d simply said he couldn’t come over on a given night, that would have been enough. His compulsion to prove everything to me like I was some micromanaging harpy was mystifying to me and yeah, made me think that he’d turned me into such a straw-harpy in his head that he may have felt the need to lie to me in order not to incur my terrible straw-wrath.

Hmm. I’d been feeling sad and nostalgic about The Pedant but now I’m remembering how often he seemed to mistake me for someone else. Always assuming that I was way more emotion-driven than I am and that I must be needing him to understand me and empathize with me when meanwhile I was like “Dude I only care about results, not intentions. I told you what I need you to do in order for me to be happy. I don’t care if you understand why I need it, I just care that you fuckin’ do it.” And this was basically the case with the frequency of our visits: I told him I preferred to see him once every week or two. If he was coming over that often, great. If we had a long lapse between visits and I was getting squirrelly, I’d tell him I was really backed up for touch and companionship and ask him to make a point of coming over at his earliest convenience. If he consistently didn’t come over nearly as often as I wanted, I guess I would have had to say “Hey I really need you to come over more often and if that can’t happen it’s possible this relationship won’t work for me and I’ll have to bail.” None of that – none of it – requires that he account for every minute of his day. Fucking come over once every week or two or tell me that you can’t so I can decide how to proceed.

It’s so weird because he’s clearly been scarred by exes who wanted him to understand them and be all empathetic and listen to their problems without trying to help and pick up on their coy little hints about what they wanted and blah blah blah, and he’s not that kind of guy and they got angry at him for it. And I am exactly what he needs in this respect – I address relationship problems by cutting straight to the behavioural changes I want to see from him, when I vent to him about stuff it’s because I want suggestions, I actively like and crave his greatly flattened emotional affect – but he can’t seem to believe that this is really who I am. I suppose I must secretly want him to be a sympathetic, emotional person because I have a vagina. And of course I’m pretending to be on the same wavelength as him (while no doubt conspiring to manipulate him into compliance) because I have a vagina.

God, he is so fucking tiring. Good riddance.

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Bumped into The Dandy last night as I was going to a job and he was coming home from his. He’s doing Movember so his face is all furry. I don’t specifically go for guys with facial hair but it looks really good on him.

I felt a surge of nostalgia and kind of wanted to start things up with him again – he’s my age, he’s sweet, he’s attentive, he’s cute, he knows how to stroke my inner elbow until I collapse in a puddle of endorphins – but I resisted the urge to act on this. I’m very much in the phase of my Pedant post-breakup where I want a guy around just to be a human band-aid and give me attention and that’s not fair. If I invited The Dandy back into my life I’d probably lose interest in a few weeks and he’d get hurt.

Also there’s still his whole fucked-up situation with his ex gf living with him. I mean, when I came for dinner one night she started doing this thing where every time The Dandy caressed me, she insisted he do the exact same thing to her. I would consider this inappropriate even from someone he was actually dating but they’ve been broken up for over a year! And his face did not seem to register her blatant insecurity and attention whoring as a red flag! He never spoke to her about her behaviour as far as I know, or explained that she’s not in competition with me or that there would be plenty of time for them to snuggle if she wanted to but can we please save it for sometime that he’s not on a date with someone else.

So, y’know. Fuck that.

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I’ve been making an effort to try to see the attractiveness in people my age and over, lately. I’d like to find a long-term partner and you know what they say about the definition of insanity, so I’m figuring it might behoove me to set my sights on people who aren’t in their 20s for a change. There are lots of middle-aged people and senior citizens in art classes – both teaching and drawing – so I’m kind of subtly trying to acclimate myself to seeing the men as men and not dads. Not that I intend on asking out the actual people I work with. It’s just a mental exercise to prepare me for broadening my preferred age range on dating sites.

Anyway there was some older guy at a drawing class recently and I could see perhaps a spark of attractiveness to him. But then a bunch of people got into a discussion about height, and how most people are about seven heads tall but I (…they squinted and measured with their fingers…) am eight heads tall.

One of the women said “Ooooh, eight heads tall gives a really heroic look.”

The dude I’d been scoping out said “No, on women it’s glamorous. On men it’s heroic.” And that was the end of me finding him at all appealing. Fuck off with your gender essentialism, dude. I can be heroic or glamorous and I get to choose which.

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