'The September Issue,' 'Vogue' magazine and learning gender

Although sex and gender are different concepts, I believe that there is a biological component to gender that is reflected in gender identity--if all aspects of gender are learned, then a person could "learn" his or her gender identity as well.

Trans people are living proof that gender identity cannot be learned. But Vogue magazine, and others like it, are tangible evidence that some aspects of gender can be taught.

I recently saw The September Issue, a behind-the-scenes documentary film on the making of Vogue's largest and most popular issue of the year--and I have to say that I really liked the film. Vogue was standard reading for me as a female, and I looked forward to their September issue every year.

While runway fashions are always hideous, in my estimation--or at the very least, unwearable by real human beings--there was just something really cool about holding and flipping through this glossy, full-color representation of "feminine" excess. And while some people are going to say that magazines like Vogue are just wrong--that they promote unrealistic body expectations for women, that they promote frivolous notions of womanhood, and that they objectify women and dumb down their image--I loved them and I won't apologize for that.

It wasn't always that way. I learned it.

My mother bought me my first issue of Seventeen magazine when I was about 10--shortly after the time that my gender issues started and I had taken to wearing my father's shirts and attempting more boyish roles in my play, such as pretending to be a secret agent instead of a ballerina. Now, I have no idea if her bringing home this magazine was her way of responding to her child's apparent oddity, but when she handed it to me, I had no idea what to do with it. It looked like a big Sears catalog to me.

But then she told me what I was supposed to do with it--flip slowly through the pages and imagine myself in the clothes that were displayed. I tried to do that, but because I was also going through a particularly chubby stage of life and the featured model at the time was named "Twiggy," imagining myself in those clothes was a herculean task. When she was looking, I flipped slowly. When she wasn't looking, I turned on the TV to watch Jonny Quest or The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

But I learned. Over the years, I learned to love Seventeen, and when I was old enough, I graduated to Vogue. I knew it was frivolous, but it turned into fun, and whether it was fun that was forced on me through socialization or not, in this generally problematic world, I'm not going to argue with a little bit of fun.

When I transitioned, I got my Vogue subscription changed over to G.Q., but I soon lost interest in looking at the same five suits and the same five white T-shirts with jeans. Men's fashion is boring. Maybe if I would have stuck with it, like I did with Seventeen, I would have learned to love it, but I didn't have my mother standing over me, admonishing me to go slower and try to picture myself in five versions of a black suit. Plus I was transitioning, so I kinda had a lot on my mind.

No matter. Seeing The September Issue was pleasant nostalgia enough. This was a special premiere, and I was one of about three men in the theater. The rest were women, dressed to the hilt in the latest fashions and reflecting our culture's idea of what women are supposed to be like.

Yes, they learned it, just like I did. They weren't born with a genetic compulsion for black patent-leather platform boots and skinny jeans. But they were having fun ... and I'm not going to argue with a little bit of fun.

(Photo: me not looking like Twiggy)