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Skirt or camera?

Do I have enough mental energy to wear a skirt and take photos, or should I prioritise the camera over the skirt?

Skirt or camera?

Today, as I write this, is TDOV. Trans Day of Visibility, and I just bought some new trousers. Not to celebrate, or to be more visibly Trans, but to fit in. TDOV is supposed to be a day to be seen, but I don't want to be. I am an assigned male at birth person, with a purple beard who likes to wear skirts. Every day is TDOV for me, and the anxiety has become too much. All of this has happened before, and will happen again. For now I feel sad not to wear a skirt outside, but that sadness is preferable to constant anxiety.

I remember those early days when I took to wearing a skirt outside. Somehow it was both terrifying and life affirming. Men would stare so hard as if they were trying to shoot lasers from their eyes, and they would photograph me. On the other hand, strangers kept telling me I looked great and I had never felt anything quite like that. One time, while walking through the Asda car park, a couple of kids clapped and cheered for me. They said I looked amazing. 2026 me is struggling to believe that people can be that kind, despite having the memories of them being so.

The life I want to live is one where I wear clothes that make me happy, so when I'm out in the world I feel good about myself. Those clothes should help me feel confident and empower me to be a better photographer. Except it takes all my energy to step outside in a skirt, leaving nothing left to power my photographer brain. The kind of photography I like to do is around people and spaces. Even after 20 years of being a photographer, it still feels weird to point a camera at someone. Doing that while wearing a skirt is even harder.

So I chose: skirts or camera. I choose camera.

Oddly, the beard and nails have never been an issue. I remember being nervous in the early days of wearing nail polish, but now I never think about it. I rarely notice when someone is shocked by my nails, and often forget that my beard is hot pink. I leave the house with my camera, and happily take photos of interesting things.

In a better, more tolerant world, I would feel comfortable in my own clothes but we don’t live in a tolerant world. I often say to men: if you want to see what the world is really like, then wear a skirt for a few days. People will be confused, angry, upset, and all because of what? Some made up ideas that got stuck in their heads? People are weird, illogical, obtuse pieces of flotsam because on the one hand men are always thinking about the Roman Empire, and at no point do they champion their skirt wearing. We are stupid.

And I am stupid, because I’ve worn a skirt long enough to know that generally there is no issue. Unfortunately, when there is it’s awful, but generally no issue except that one I create for myself. Maybe I read too much news. Maybe my autistic brain overthinks everything and produces list after list of reasons why I should fear everything. I can’t say exactly what I’m worried about, but I know if I don’t wear a skirt I have nothing to worry about. So I don’t. There is only so much I can anxiety I can deal with, only so much spoon energy to fight the world and my own personal demons that it’s simply easier to let go of things I enjoy that cause me stress. I can’t be a bearded photographer in a skirt.

Oddly, I can be a completely naked photographer and happy, even to the point of creating some of the best work I’ve done in years. But only because the environment was accommodating and enabling. Maybe it isn’t the world that needs to change, maybe I do? Instead of being annoyed that the world may never accept myself in a skirt, maybe trousers are fine if they get me through the day with a camera. I wouldn’t wear a skirt on a hike through a storm, I would dress correctly for the situation.

Assuming the world will not become a calm and healthy place in my life time, maybe I need to relax my thinking a little. There may be times when I can be a photographer in a skirt, or naked, or in trousers. If the world won’t change, I should accept that and instead change myself. Not to placate or admit defeat, but to spend my energy wisely. A pair of colourful trousers, nail polish and a colourful beard might be enough. Maybe, in the same way I have exercise clothes or swimwear I should have workwear? A queer event would call for a skirt. Some arts events, a skirt. A walk around a city with my camera, colourful trousers.

None of this is to make others feel happy. I like to wear a skirt to challenge the norm, especially when the norm is monochromatic puffer coats and emergency sports gear just in case a football game breaks out in a shopping centre. I like to proudly say “Fuck all that.” But at the same time, my mental energy is limited. Today I think I am OK with choosing to have work clothes, fun clothes, exercise clothes, swim clothes or at times no clothes when using a camera.

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Sometimes I wear hot pink leggings too.
A person stands confidently on rocky terrain near a body of water, dressed in a black jacket and a short skirt. They wear striking blue and yellow leggings, coupled with green boots. Their outfit is completed with an orange cap, and they have vivid purple facial hair, creating a bold and unique fashion statement against a cloudy sky backdrop.
Slava Ukraini

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