National Coming Out Day

One of my old Recon pictures. I still have this pocket square, tie, and cufflinks, after 13 years.

For as long as I can remember, I had a fascination with suits and ties. I suppose the suits came first, almost before knowing that it was the men underneath them that drew my attention. Indiana Jones, or James Bond: I would fantasize about these well-dressed protagonists getting into situations in which their fine tailoring would be stripped from them piece by piece.

When I was a deeply closeted teenager, I snooped around in my father's closet, trying on his shirts, his ties, trousers, and shoes. I would wait until he was out of the house, terrified of being caught. He once caught me stowing away his navy uniform after I took a shower in part of it, and was furious that he'd have to get it drycleaned. I couldn't explain to him why I did that. I was too ashamed to admit. I knew he wouldn't understand.

In middle school and high school, homophobic jocks bullied me. Yet I notice that, whenever we had presentation days in which we had to go to school in "business attire," I would secretly look forward to those days. I'd come to class in my father's shirts and ties, his gleaming uniform shoes, and felt put together, proud, while the jocks would be tugging at their collars, fidgeting in their shoes, complaining. It felt empowering, noticing that the garments that made them feel so uncomfortable made me feel masculine and more like myself.

It wasn't until college that I started going to menswear shops, building my own wardrobe. There was a time when a guy working at a menswear shop had me try on a pair of trousers, then rested his hands on my bum for quite a moment longer than necessary. There was another time that I had lunch with a handsome, dapper fellow who worked at Brooks Brothers, and I was too nervous to make any kind of gesture, terrified of giving away my crush on him.

Then came Recon. I still remain in touch with the owner of London York Ties, who was one of the first suit and tie fetish guys I ever talked to about my fetish. He was warm, welcoming, affirming. Devastatingly handsome, too. I've told him many times how much that meant to me, finally having someone say that my fetish was valid.

I still have my misgivings about the suit and tie community online, but I'll save those for another day. For now, today is about celebrating that moment when we find our queer family, our found family. There is no right way to do it, and that multiplicity makes it wondrous.