Nobody ever really taught me how to be a girl.

So most days, and by most days I mean about eleven months out of any given year, and about twenty-nine/thirty days out of every month, I don't give a damn about clothes. Cosplay is somewhat exempt from this, as are evenings out and other times where I'm socially obligated to wear formal wear. But on the average day, my appearance can at best be described as "presentable". I don't wear makeup, most of the time not even on formal occasions, my hair is short and straight enough that the only concessions I have to make to it are to wash it and run a comb through it, and my usual clothing choices consist of one of my dozen or so fan/logo T-shirts and either jeans or cargo pants, with a shorts option in summer because summers in Albuquerque are pretty unforgiving.

But in that one month out of twelve and in that one day out of thirty-odd, all of the feminine I don't have any use for otherwise comes out in a giant ball of makeup and vintage evening wear. This is the result of a particular mix of boredom and available time, and the kicker is I never do anything with it. I don't go anywhere or even take pictures. I just strut around a bit then get bored again and take everything off, but for a while it's fun and I look pretty.