Sheer Madness

Photo by Andrew Vowles for Hero Magazine

At the beginning of the year I became the proud owner of my very own feeding tube. 3 times a day, laboratory manufactured nutrients flow directly into my stomach via a plastic tube semi-permanently affixed to my stomach. No chewing or utensils required, leaving my hands free to shop online or compose thought provoking Instagram captions. Its purpose is to help me gain weight. A rousing "You've hit rock bottom" from my team of doctors pushed me to have the tube implanted. I had stubbornly tried to gain weight the natural way, but it never stuck so I finally seceded and agreed to do it their way. Much like a set of nutrition training wheels, the tube paired with a gradual increase of oral intake is supposed to help me reach a healthy weight and more importantly, maintain that weight. Once I meet my caloric requirements, it'll be removed. Only a whopping 62 pounds to go!

It sounds like a dream - getting your ideal body by sitting on your ass - and it would be if I weren't ravenously craving all things sheer. In the same way that people crave food, I crave trends and since the tube placement I've developed a real hankering for see-through clothing. So far I've bought a Christopher Shannon sheer number with varying degrees of transparency, an ASOS top that creates a similar effect with horizontal stripes, and my oh-my-god-what-was-my-life-before-you all time favorite new shirt: A Comme des Garçons Homme Plus broad striped shirt with mesh sleeves! Not to mention the various sheer creations I already own. Of course, the feeding tube has kept me from indulging in my sheer fetish, so all of my purchases have gone unworn, hanging somberly in my closet or remain in their original packaging (like the CDG whose wrapping was too pretty to just throw away). I suppose I could throw them on occasionally to get some mileage, but my tube kind of hangs in plain sight. While this season has many trends to look forward to, the Umbilical Cord look is not one of them

Half of me is chasing my latest fix. The other half is trying to accomplish something bigger. Since my original diagnosis, I've felt overlooked. I feel people looking over me, around me, and even through me, but never at me; It's almost as if I've become sheer myself, to draw a painfully shameless similarity to the topic at hand. With recovery on the horizon and the promise of a new body, I'm elated at the opportunity to show off that which I used to hide, because it used to be that ribs were all I had to offer. This see-through clothing binge is my (not so) subtle way of forcing people to recognize me as a human being and not a medical anomaly. It shows the world that I'm a person too and though I may face different challenges, I am still flesh and bone.

When I walk into a room I am usually met with curiosity or remorse. If a man were to express attraction, I wouldn't even know how to properly respond. Adolescence is when you usually work those sorts of things out - what it means to want someone and be wanted in return. My teenage years were spent watching Oprah with the day shift nurse so it's safe to assume I never really got a hang of flirting. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping the see-through clothes will help me accrue some points in the dating game. Bare flesh beneath transparent fabric, sheer clothing possesses a certain sensuality that is not lost on me. In fact, I'm counting on this sensuality to help me get what I want. My goal is to feel comfortable in my skin (while simultaneously showing it off), but if I land a man in the process, that's a particular gift horse I'd be happy not to look in the mouth. Bringing boys to the yard has been so low on my list for so long. I need to remember that it's an actual thing that people do and not just something I read online.

For my integrity's sake, it should be noted that this sheer lust isn't just a sad attempt to get laid. Underneath it all, I'm just anxious to look in the mirror and see a healthy, thriving person. This thing has taken so much from me, some of which I can never get back, but sheer clothing can help to put this retched disease behind me. I know it sounds absurd, but in some weird, fashion-obsessive way, wearing sheer clothing is my Declaration of independence. The exposed parts of my body will act as undeniable proof that I fought this battle and came out on top.

It's weird. My full recovery has been just out of arms reach for what seems like forever. I want it so bad and yet when I allow myself to imagine it, the idea seems unreal; it's like hearing a fairytale as an adult. In childhood, the mysticism and wonder practically poured out of you, but as an adult all you can seem to muster is a cynical "Yeah, right". Yet, despite these reservations, I do hope this happens for me because it's long overdue. I'm well aware of the fact that I'm making sheer seem much more important than it really is, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar", but that's what I love about fashion - it's power to transcend the limitations of language and communicate on a level unreached by any other medium. Like it or not, realize it or not, what you wear says a lot about who you are, and in my case, what I'm trying to overcome. It may be see-through fabric for some, but to me it's a badge of honor.