It’s Fine
jo (3 out of 5 stars) - Reviewed on Dec 27, 2019
“Since this is the absolutely only jumpsuit on this site and I don't wear dresses (being nonbinary and a "bridesmaid" is awks), this is what I had to work with. Honestly, nothing on this site looks all that amazing, so I'm not sure why people are so bent out of shape by this one having cheap fabric. It was fine. It fit me fine. It's not the best thing I've ever worn, but it's fine. I think it looks basically exactly like it looks in the pictures. It should probably cost about $30, but it doesn't, so whatever. They know they have a captive market. Seriously, it's fine. I'm going to more or less match the bridesmaids in my friend's wedding, so I'll be fine too.”
Dear jo,
How many times can I read the word “fine” before it’ll stop slamming straight into the soft part of my gut? You say that you’re serious, so I will be too.
It’s not fine.
Jo, sometimes (most of the time), putting on a dress makes me feel like I’m doing drag. I’m a queer woman, and I don’t pretend to know everything, but I know a little about the in-between. I know enough to feel your “fine” like a too-tight sweater, like a cup of souring milk, like a jack-o-lantern smile. I know how it feels to take “fine” because it’d be too much to take more.
I, too, came to this website because I’ve been asked to perform an archaic notion of femininity for a friend’s wedding. Isn’t it funny, how we’re doing this for love? Isn’t it funny how we squish ourselves into an untenable form—cheap fabric and all—so that other people don’t get bent out of shape?
So whatever. We know that this won’t be the best thing we’ve ever worn. Because this is not the last time we’ll be invited to cut a rug, and damn if we don’t look amazing in a bow tie. (Or a ragged flannel. Or a pair of combat boots. Or nothing at all.)
The gender they’re offering us, in heart-shaped necklines, in gauzy skirts slit up the thigh, is a stale and stymied thing. We know this because we’ve done the alchemy—distilled their offerings into something bright, glittering with nuance. Because we’ve made a home out of the in-between, which is also known as the cutting-edge.
Look at you, jo. What you had to work with was too small for your incandescent self, and so you’re crafting a life outside of that, beyond their binaries. You’re magic.
Like you, I’ll buy the jumpsuit and I’ll wear it to my friend’s wedding. It’s fine. Because when I catch a piece of that cheap chiffon between my fingers, I’ll think of you, and feel a whole lot less alone. I’ll slip on a heavy-shouldered blazer, and squint into the camera, and smile—not for them, but for us.
Jo, the only “fine” of yours that feels true is the last one. You’re right—you will be fine. We’ll both be.
We’ll be fine as hell.
Yours,
Anna
1 “Azazie Dua Jumpsuit Bridesmaid Dresses.” Azazie,
https://www.azazie.com/products/1429188570698489. Accessed 17 Dec. 2021.
Anna is a writer and medical student living in Saint Paul, Minnesota. She works mainly in creative nonfiction, has published an essay in Family Medicine, a poem in The Intima, and an essay forthcoming in The Examined Life Journal. In her free time, she enjoys devouring library books and baked goods, in equal measure.