fitting room

this might be the first time i'm doing this alone.
i will manage, i suppose...

just pick the basics.

i. long-sleeve, cotton, grey L:

does this even look good on me?
the sleeves work, but maybe not this fit.
unless... i tuck it in?
sure. perhaps.

what does denim not welcome, after all...

let’s go for the tuck and trust
my garter jeans would hug just enough
to form the fold.

there-- that's it;
it's all about the right crease...
or so i thought.

not grey.

ii. long-sleeve, cotton, black L:

black is the best illusion.
the shade does make me look sharper,
as if i magnetize technology
through the negatives of my torso
where only my lenses matter.

it is to let the shadows redirect the gazes
towards mine,
a minimalist canvas i’ve assimilated
myself into.

i am comfortable
to command this clothing,
and i will never go wrong to settle with the familiar,
especially when the brood is all i’ve ever known,
even if it makes (me) look smaller.

iii. long-sleeve, button-up, white L.

pristine;
better than light blue, but just as angelic.
exactly why it's difficult to maintain.

and if you stain it,
can you clean it?
the effort to iron the folds and collars--
will you do the work?

regardless, i stood tall--
beholden like a little boy beaming up for his
first communion--
a neat placket falling gently to line up
buttons in between my chest,
unpaired 'til the hem,
bright skin radiating from beneath the cloud of cloth;
naughty with the rolled-up sleeves.

a boy, with the creases of her breasts.

i was ready to brave the choice,
until i buttoned it up:

oh no-- it’s too tight.
i see...

honestly, i'm not sure if it's the closet or the size.

In this piece, I relive a core memory that unravels my body dysmorphia-- born from the interactions between my masculinity, queerness and plus-sized body shape.

In the attempt to be vivid, I use voices instead of images. It’s a parallelism of how I’m not very good with visual judgements and rely heavily on my inner thoughts to form fashion choices.

These 'voices' and thought processes are informed by my emotions, influenced by garment fits (color, size, etc) and blur the aesthetic I desire to achieve. Ultimately, it’s a struggle against (internal and external) expectations while suggesting the bareness inside my closet.

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