Fashion in your twenties is (fill in the blank)

Click below for all new tales from your favorite dorkette! This go 'round, we'll be discussing fashion. And not just any kind of fashion, Y2K fashion. Dun dun duuuuun!

Hi! Welcome to the new millennium!

Picture it. It's the year 2000. Yours truly is working at the local mall, running to the food court dressed in head to toe Contempo Casuals for her lunch break at Wendy's. Amber's Sexual (LI Da Di) is my personal anthem. I'm juggling college, a job, a growing social life. I'm enjoying what the new millennium is out to promise and deliver. I'm single and ready to mingle. Fashion is in my blood, I'm serving Bratz Doll before a Brat summer was even a hint of a thing. Just oozing style galore. As I'm writing this and listening to my Y2K Pop Princess playlist, I'm awash in such sunny nostalgia for a more simpler time. I think we can all agree that if we could go back to the year 2000 we certainly would. I mean, I know I would.

I just loved a label!

And then what I'd do is insert some images of that era and share some lovely musings about the past and then hit publish, all while hoping that a few people might read this and agree with my sentiment. Except that's not exactly what is going to happen. Sure there will be some pictures, and while there might be some loving nostalgia for this era, I don't know that I'd ever want to go back.

I'm leaving out some details. True, in my state of delulu it might seem like my life was perfect in 2000, that the turn of a new century was everything and more. That just wasn't the case. But there was fashion. Contempo Casuals, Gadzooks, Wet Seal, Charlotte Russe, The Buckle, Express, those were places that I found many of my fashion staples. I loved tube tops. Any pants or jeans had to be flared. Capris were always paired with some kind of wedge clunky brick under my feet. Cute tees. All manner of tanks and strappy numbers. Split sleeves. One shoulder or asymmetrical tops/dresses meant the world to me. These stores were my playgrounds to experiment with my style, to feed into my confidence, places that would take my look from work to the club where I'd no doubt find a boyfriend. (There was never a boyfriend to be found btw.)

Capris and clogs, a winning combo!

I digress. I'm forgetting an important part that brings this all into context. I was existing in a world that did not like me very much. I began my social transition in high school in the late '90s and of course that continued when I got into adult hood. The interesting bit is that I thought the hell I went through in high school would end once I got out into the real world. I mean after all, why would anyone care that I was merely existing in my low rise flares and crop top and whatever hair color I was sporting that week. The colors changed like the wind people. But to no one's surprise being a young trans woman in conservative Texas was something that just pissed certain people off. 

Lots of pink and a losing battle with tweezers was a hallmark of the times

So my job in the mall was at the Icing. The Icing was like a young adult upgrade of tween centered Claire's. I got the job thanks to one of my best friends who was already working there. I just felt so chic working there. Like we were the cool girls at the cool store. We sold body jewelry and had a big tv blasting the current music videos from MTV. Our role was to make sure people had the accessories they needed in life. My manager loved me, she'd always tell me that I was fucking beautiful and a badass to live in this world authentically. She was the badass. She drove a Trans Am and was an old school Metal Head in a wonderful marriage to a partner that adored her. She had this air of not caring what anyone thought. She was living a life I desperately wanted to experience. I looked up to her. Her name was Mary. 

Just outside the Icing was one of those kiosks that sold calendars and games, puzzles, that sort of thing. The manager and employees of that kiosk were a bunch of dudes. And I mean that in exactly the way it should sound, they were your typical bro-jocular set of guys, hair gelled and spiked, shirts that showed off their arms and chests in a way that cried out "I'm a man, but I'm not into men, don't get it confused or I'll kick your ass." They were around the same age as me and were using their prime real estate to do what they could to flirt with any woman that walked by. 

This is my mom, not Mary. But, do notice the cowl neck and split sleeve of this Express top. Very Grecian Goddess. Very demure. I was not like those other girls.

Now it's really important to understand, I may have been born male, but I did not look like a guy-guy. And not just due to the clothing I was wearing. There's always been a natural femininity about me, and during that time I was in this weird phase. Like my "It's Pat" phase. At times I could blend in and be seen as a woman but also provide some head scratches and question marks like, "Is that a dude or chick?" 

The straps on this tank were metal chains mixed with beads. Hurt like hell. But the fabric sparkled ever so.

One of the guys at this kiosk was absolutely peeping on me when I was walking by to clock in. I could hear him muttering something like, "Damn, she looks good" Or something to that effect. Well, one of the other guys at the kiosk was like, "No way, that's a guy." Protestations soon followed of no, no way, that's messed up. And what unfolded from then was a campaign to publicly humiliate me. 

Throughout the coming days the guys at this kiosk began harassing me in terrible ways. They'd walk into the store and yell out slurs, "Tr@nnie, F@g, that's a dude!" I'd be working, ringing customers up or stocking shelves, and have to deal with these guys coming in, glaring at me, laughing, mocking me, yelling out things. Customers would look in shock and embarrassment. My co-workers would shake their heads in anger. If I left the store for a break, I'd have no choice but to walk by them, and that would be worse because they'd get really loud and amp up their slurs towards me. There'd be more people around us, because this was a main walkway. I felt like such a fool. I felt unsafe. I felt like this freak, like what kind of life am I supposed to have when this is how people see me?

Young me was always trying to be Cosmo posing, like I was having the time of my life. Silly girl.

And there was a flip side to this. I was truly living in an upside down world, because according to these guys I was ugly and disgusting, all of these bad things, but meanwhile in my free time I'd be in chatrooms talking with men that were all about my situation. I'd have handfuls of men, usually in their thirties and forties, begging to take me out. Which, like,  that is a whole other post for another day, because I was too young to be involved in these matters along with completely lacking the understanding of the power deferential that existed. It was really not ok for men that age to be interacting with me like that, even though I was 18 and technically of legal age. I understand it more now that I am in my forties, but at 18 I thought I was so cool and grown up to be entertaining these mature men.

One man who was every bit in his mid forties drove up to my work and was begging me to slip away on my break to hook up with him in his car in the parking lot. I mean. There was a lot happening and there were so many mixed messages. One minute I'm this atrocious looking person that would never be able to attract anyone to being highly desirable and preyed upon by men old enough to be my dad. I truly had no idea how to make sense of my own confidence and self-worth. 

So one day, Manager Mary caught some of the guys throwing slurs my way and she chewed them out, "You come into my store again and harass one of my employees, I will see to it that you lose your job." See, she was friendly with the manager at the kiosk, and they knew that her statement was entirely possible of happening. Of course that wasn't enough, Mary had a conversation with kiosk manager where she expressed her displeasure. That guy was like, "Well can you blame my guys? They aren't used to seeing someone look like that." 

"Like what? Because all I see is someone who looks amazing and is just trying to work. Bothering absolutely nobody." I was shocked out how she fought for me. I kinda figured, and was dreading, that I might lose my job. My existence was causing such a reaction and issue in the store, but Mary had none of it. And in time what I was going through eventually lessened. Sure their words weren't maybe as vocal, but I could see their stares. They still hated me, but it was a reserved hate. 

Rhinestones on jeans? Check!

It wasn't all bad though. Working in the mall, you get to know people from other stores and I developed some wonderful friendships. I found myself in a sisterhood of sorts. It's always been interesting to me when people want to say that trans women are a danger to women, but in my life, women have typically been incredibly supportive of me. Their friendship and support has been such a source of strength. And that has been mutual. While I had a hard time feeling like I fit in anywhere during that time, I certainly had a sense of community.

And, ya know, when you've been attacked for being who you are, it can create a very different perspective with how you navigate the world. I remember one time during my shift a mom and her daughter who had special needs were shopping for accessories. The daughter was asking me for advice on what might look good and I was having so much fun helping her. She complimented my outfit and I did the same for her. After I rang them up the mom shared, "I just want to thank you. We've been shopping all day, in and out of so many stores, and you have been the first person who has actually helped us and treated us like we were normal. You don't know how much that means." I just nodded. I could only imagine what they were dealing with and I wasn't doing anything different from how I'd treat anyone else, but it all came back around to my own experiences. Being on the receiving end of cruelty feels awful. I have made it a point to bring the opposite of that into the world.

I don't even know why I added this one, I just think those desserts looked good.

I'm not always perfect. I mentioned earlier about the chat rooms and the various men. I won't lie, I wanted a boyfriend real bad and was willing to wade through as many creeps as I could until I could find one. Either way, there was one guy I had been chatting with, we were close in age, he was a few years older. A vast improvement from middle aged men on the prowl. Anyway, this guy and I met up to hang out. My naiveté was in full force because what I thought was simply to be a hang out turned into a hook up. A very one sided hook up if I say so. Naturally he disappeared never to be heard from again, which sucked, but I was learning that would be par for the course for a while. 

Until one day I saw him walk by the Icing. Y'all.

It was a slow day, my co-workers and I were no doubt discussing clothes or what we'd be doing later on. I was in a crop Charlie's Angels tee with some magnificent flared jeans and a chunky heal. Hair parted down the middle, a hot pink gloss on my lips. I felt like I was fire and you couldn't touch me. Well I see this loser through the window walking by with what looked like a date. I was floored. 

"Cover for me, I'll be right back." I marched my ass out of that store and was calling out to this guy. I have since forgotten his name, but this memory is seared in my head. "Hey!" I kept trying to get his attention, but he had a rather quick pace. Y'all. I chased after this man out of the damn mall. What I was planning to say to him I had no idea. I stood outside by the curb, hip out with glaring eyes laser focused as that twerp sleazed his way into the parking lot with his date. There I was: Y2K Bubblegum Babe with a look that screamed, "Don't you come back to my mall again if you wanna live to see tomorrow!" I was sending a message and meant business! It was all very cinematic in my head though to bystanders I probably looked absolutely crazed. 

Laser Focused Eyes of Rage! And Cosmo cover posing in my bathroom.

And ya know, he deserved to be shaking in his boots a bit. Not gonna lie. 

So below are some tags, the only relics I have of that time as the clothes are no longer in my closet. I look at these pieces and I am brought back to a world that was delightful in some ways, and really scary in others. And now that we are at the beginning of a new worrisome chapter of Earth AD Season 2024, I am very much aware that people like me illicit such hatred from others and it will only get louder during these next four years and beyond. I don't know what to make of that. I know that community, being able to rely on the kindness and support of others is incredibly valuable. And doomscrolling. Though I am going to try less of that this go around. There's also finding joy and sharing that joy with whoever is willing to witness it. I hope part of this post can deliver some of that. It's important. Joy. 

I hope you are all doing well and taking care of yourselves. Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read all this. It's a little departure from toy soap operas and reviews, but I came across these tags in a keepsake box and felt it important to share. Hugs to you all, until then!

This tag was for a Lisa Frank wallet/organizer that was my personal palm pilot. 

From a boutique I'd occasionally get some cute tops at

Loved their jeans. Sparkly glitter was in the denim. It didn't get better than that.

Another fashion staple. Loved their jeans too. And their Bratz inspired artwork.

This captures such an era, it's crazy. I hope the capris that came with this tag are still living their best life somewhere out there.

Oh! And I can't forget this one, the Contempo Casuals Fantastic Plastic card. You couldn't leave it at home, that 10% off everything was a coin saver!