Have you ever been so taken aback by someone’s comments that you could only respond with silence? I ask this because I recently stumbled upon an old shirt in my closet—a black, long-sleeved, low-cut number I used to wear while dealing cards. It reminded me of the last time I donned it, when my so-called friend, Jake, remarked that I “dressed like a tramp.”
Let’s dive into why that comment upset me.
Maybe I’m unusual, but I really don’t care what other people choose to wear. I hope I’m not the only one who thinks it’s absurd to judge someone based on their clothing choices. When I dealt blackjack, my boss allowed us to wear whatever we wanted (within reason). Of course, dress codes can vary, especially in the nightlife scene. But my employer understood that a woman’s fashion choices don’t affect her work performance. And let’s be real—how often do men face scrutiny for their outfits? I’ve never seen it happen.
Back to the topic of slut-shaming.
“You dress like a tramp and this is a kid’s show.”
The first time Jake saw me in that shirt, I was playing the flute for a pit orchestra, and he came to drop off some sheet music during my shift. He glanced at my shirt—a simple black tee with the top button undone for comfort—and his expression soured as he approached. Initially, I thought he was just nervous about meeting someone new. I couldn’t fathom that my shirt would be an issue.
Looking back, his gaze was filled with disdain. The same negativity surfaced when he returned to the bar with his grumpy boyfriend, who was there for a card tournament. This time, Jake decided to share his unsolicited opinion.
Funny enough, we had grown quite close, and I had even asked for his input on a dress I was considering for the show. I worried about how my tattoos would look, but Jake had different concerns.
After glancing at the dress photo I sent him, he took a sip of his beer and stated, “Yeah, that dress is fine. Thank goodness. We need to get you more conservative clothes. You dress like a tramp and this is a kid’s show.”
Seriously?
His words were so blunt, leaving no room for misinterpretation—they were not a joke or playful banter. When he noticed my shocked expression, he added, “I can say that. I’m gay.”
Why does slut-shaming still exist?
The goal of women’s rights movements was to secure basic human rights, including the freedom to express ourselves however we choose. Am I missing something? I don’t see how a top I bought from a discount store could incite such a reaction. The issue is prevalent enough that students are staging walkouts over dress codes in schools. Young women are even facing dire consequences due to such harmful language.
Clothing is just fabric, and unkind opinions are better left unsaid. I never commented on Jake’s hairstyle, which he thought cleverly concealed his receding hairline. I’ve been labeled many things over the years, but I choose my outfits just as he does. I was taught that unless someone is in trouble, it’s best to mind your own business.
And can we talk about how Jake used his sexuality as a shield? This isn’t acceptable behavior. Using that as a justification for being rude is not okay. By that logic, I could’ve told Jake he should probably stop acting like a player. But no, that’s not how decent people operate.
Eventually, I felt overwhelmed by his “concern.” I wore the dress on opening night, pretending not to notice how he scrutinized me when a pianist complimented my outfit. Throughout the show’s run, he continuously watched me. We never discussed his earlier comments. I initially brushed it off, thinking he had good intentions. However, feeling pressured to conform to someone else’s standards isn’t real friendship.
The final straw came during another gig when Jake handed me my music binder and gestured at my uniform top—a simple company t-shirt. He stated, “We’re touring churches, and sweetheart, you’re just never appropriate. I was hesitant to even offer you the job, but I don’t know anyone else who can play the music.”
The irony? Another dealer wore the same shirt. I didn’t respond that time; I had already given Jake too many chances to change his behavior.
Eventually, I distanced myself from Jake. Ghosting him may not have been the best way to end things, but negativity can wear you down. Despite his insistence that he was “trying to help,” the truth is that we should let people be themselves. Women don’t need guidance on being “acceptable.” We’re fully aware of our appearances.
Anyone can dress however they like, and it doesn’t change who they are. So, why is society so fixated on women’s choices? If you can’t be yourself around someone, it’s often best to move on—even if it means losing a friend. Jake still tries to reach out, but I know our friendship is best left behind. If we ever crossed paths again, I wouldn’t hesitate to wear my “tramp shirt” just to see his reaction.
For more insights about self-expression and empowerment, check out this post on solo travel. Additionally, if you’re exploring family planning options, Make a Mom offers excellent resources on fertility. You can also find invaluable information on treating infertility here.
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Summary
A personal story about the impact of judgment on clothing choices, highlighting the absurdity of slut-shaming. The author reflects on their experience with a friend who made disparaging remarks about their attire, questioning societal norms around women’s fashion and self-expression. The article emphasizes the importance of allowing individuals to express themselves freely and the negative effects of unkind comments.
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