Lady Things: The Plight of the Modern Tomboy

Welcome back to Lady Things, the column where we ask hard questions about the female experience and get soft, squishy, sparkly pink answers. Our query today: Is it bad to be a tomboy?

If you've been following this column, you may have picked up on the fact that I have a bit of a complicated relationship with my own gender. I've never quite gotten the hang of the makeup-in-the-morning, high-heels, eyelash-curling, no-pubic-hair, showers-every-day thing. I've also never quite understood why those things—actual changes I have to make to my already existing body—make me "feminine."

It might not surprise you to learn that I was somewhat of a tomboy in my youth.

Here's a picture, for reference:

I was frequently referred to as a tomboy as a kid, and I was very OK with it. It felt like a badge I wore that said: "This girl is different! She's tough and smart and doesn't conform to society's norms and gets around so well because she never has to wear a dress!"

Sadly, some experts say we are no longer allowed to use the word "tomboy." According Melissa Atkins Wardy, author of Redefining Girly: How Parents Can Fight the Stereotyping and Sexualizing of Girlhood, From Birth to Tween, quoted in a The New York Times trend piece, where all knowledge can be found, "Tomboy is an unhelpful word that suggests if girls are brave or athletic or strong, they're tomboys, and being the opposite of those things is girlie."

The Times goes on to say, "In the University of New Hampshire 'Bias-Free Language Guide,' first posted in 2013 (and widely mocked online), the tomboy is relegated to the 'problematic/outdated' category, along with 'girlie,' with the preferred terminology being 'children who are gender nonconforming' or 'children who are gender variant.'"

I remember once when I was about 6, swinging at dusk with my best friend in the world, another girl who I wanted to marry so we could hang out forever, and her saying to me, "My mom said we're tomboys." It was a pretty magical moment of mutual and self-identification, and I just don't think I would have felt the same way if she'd said to me, "My mom said we're gender nonconforming."

Isn't calling something "nonconforming" or "variant" still assuming there is one way to correctly express gender anyway?

I am loath to be unhelpful or, dear God, "problematic," but what if I could instead be cool? Because while The New York Times is busy telling children to shit or get off the pot, gender-wise, a Portland company called Wildfang is capitalizing on the subversiveness of being gender nonconforming. Their signature "Tomboy" shirt is so cool, Forever 21 was selling a rip-off for a while.

Unlike Forever 21, which happily put the Tomboy shirt on a skinny girl projecting classic American femininity, with her long hair, tight pants and lipstick, Wildfang's tomboys are at least wearing a more subtle lip color and relaxed-fit jeans.

I decided to purchase a Tomboy shirt, along with a very comfy flannel the store sells, and see how the world reacted to an actual tomboy proclaiming her gender identity on a shirt:

It didn't take long for a man in a beret to express his opinion:

Here is the tomboy-style paradox. When I think tomboy, I think Pippi Longstocking, playing tag in the mud, climbing trees. Tomboy isn't a look, it's the absence of giving a shit about how you look. A tomboy can have long hair or short hair or no hair, wear shorts or skirts or go completely naked. Style isn't involved. In my mind, a shirt that says "Tomboy" should really just be a notice to the public that the wearer is not interested in anyone's opinion on how they look but will field questions about topics of interest, ranging from global warming to literature to alpine skiing.

To me, a tomboy is a female-gendered person who prizes comfort over looking hot or cute or boneable. So if "tomboy " is, in fact, a problematic word, then it shouldn't be replaced by "gender nonconforming." If anything, it should be replaced by "girl" or, better, "human."

Yeah, it's not as cute on a shirt, but maybe it would help us stop putting our shit on children, and let them just be their weird, gender-ambiguous selves. Then, maybe someday in the far distant future, adults can be themselves, too.

Willamette Week