Sorry ladies, I'm not metro

"I saw your husband today," Anna's friend told her,  "he looked so nice and put together. Do you dress him or does he dress himself?"
"He dresses himself. He really into clothes."
At this point Anna probably thinks to herself, "and he's really into guys. If they only knew."

A lot of her friends are a bit surprised and and even jealous upon hearing that I look so  nice by my own doing. Perhaps this is because I dress better than all their frumpy straight husbands who are still wearing the clothes they got years ago when they were dating. Anna is hesitant to buy me clothes as gifts because she knows how particular I am. I also won't let Anna do my own laundry because I'm very particular with how my clothes are handled.  Her friends are also surprised to find out that I cut my own hair. It's not your standard crew or buzz cut so why would I pay big bucks to get my trendy hairstyle when I can do it myself? I once tried to highlight Anna's hair to save money and that resulted in tears. In the end it wasn't too bad but I think I'd rather not go through that ordeal again. Her friends probably think I'm just metro, and I'm fine with letting them think that.

I've always been really into fashion. Not necessarily high-fashion, name brand, expensive stuff. Never had the money for that. But dressing nice and classy has long been important to me. Since I was like 7 or 8 I always insisted on doing all my own shopping and styling my own hair. I remember one of my favorite things to do at the end of summer was back-to-school shopping. Afterward my two older sisters and I would put on modelling shows to display our spiffy new attire (most of it probably purchased at JC Penney). I would then lay out each of the outfits I would wear for the first three days of school out on my floor. My mom thought it was funny. Early on she knew I was very different from my older brother, and even most boys in general.

I was such a gay little kid. I hated getting my clothes dirty.  I remember in 3rd grade while playing outside I slipped and got a grass stain on my jeans. On class picture day! Needless to say I was mortified that I had to stand in the front row (I was a real short kid) where my stain would be seen and memorialized permanently.

There have been many times in my life where I felt like I had to tone down my fashion sensibilities out of fear that it would give away my gayness. But once I started accepting myself for who I am I stopped giving a damn as to whether I looked gay or not. Looking nice makes me feel good, and if something simple as that boosts my confidence and mood then I'll do it without question.

I wore a fedora the other day to a community dinner. I don't want to sound too boastful but I look pretty damn dapper in it. Funny thing was that the one woman there who knows I'm gay because she's Anna's good friend was also wearing a fedora. We joked about calling each other to coordinate and then we arranged what we'd wear to church on Sunday. I bet she's really jealous that her husband doesn't dress as nice as me. But on second thought, I'm sure she's very relieved that he's at least straight.