In 1938, for example, a mother wrote to her local paper asking what she should do about her son. We’ve been grappling with these imaginary lines for a long time now, and always end the conversation in the same stalemate. We’ve seen this same scenario play out a hundred times over with women wearing men’s shirts, but never really the other way around, at least in the United States. Never has a man walked from my room with a dress skimming the tops of his hairy thighs, the short hem flashing cheek as he rooted around for pans, the strap falling all come-hither-like down his shoulder - and me watching all of this from my bed, biting my fist.
Not once have I had a guy who, after offering to make breakfast in the morning, stood up, stretched, and grabbed one of my shifts off the floor so he didn’t have to fry up a couple of frittatas in just his socks. You can also see what we’re up to by signing up here. The archives will remain available here for new stories, head over to Vox.com, where our staff is covering consumer culture for The Goods by Vox. Thank you to everyone who read our work over the years.
