By Victoria Wheeler
Some Second Life citizens don’t care much what they wear, as long as they ‘feel’ comfortable and appropriate. To some SL denizens, fashion means keeping up with trends straight from the real world. To others, their SL wardrobe means looking as ’seductive’ as possible in order to quickly engage someone in a conversation that goes beyond the ubiquitous, “Where did you get those wings?”, into more er, personal territory.
When it comes to what my avatar wears in SL, I’m torn, 50-50 between those last two options, class vs. trash.
Well over a year ago, as a noob, I was thrilled by all the styles available in SL. The options were intoxicating, and the prices were right. Having been raised in New York City, I’d long been a fan of wearing what was current. I bopped around SL buying all kinds of wonderful clothing. I was blissed at the opportunity to dress in the high style of which I’d always dreamed.
I even started a small collection of ‘period’ outfits. After all, SL was about fantasy. I bought dresses from eras such as the Renaissance, Tudor England, the 1700’s, Victorian England, some Antebellum hoop-skirt ball gowns, several ancient Roman togas and sandals, native American buckskins, a 1920’s Flapper outfit, a 1940s woman’s business suit with matching ‘period’ underwear, hosiery and shoes, and a Japanese brocade kimono, among other ‘interesting’ and unusual things. I’m not into the fantasy role-playing or furry thing, but I do own a dramatic female knight’s outfit, an animated mermaid costume, and a serious purple cloak to wear when casting magic spells.
I purchased lots of outfits one might consider ‘fashionable’ in the real world, too. Well-designed clothing I thought was elegant and casual, classic and ‘now’. We know there are extremely talented SL fashion designers, and discovering them was wonderful fun for me.
Then something happened to make me realign my clothing choices. My heart was smitten by a charming, handsome man in SL. Originally from South America, now living in the States, he introduced me to his love of Salsa dancing. I noticed the women at the SL Salsa clubs were wearing short, sexy dresses that swayed deliciously to the dramatic choreography and hot rhythms of Salsa. The wheels in my overheated brain began to turn, and one day, I showed up for our ‘Salsa date’ decked out in a ruffly, sleeveless, clingy red mini dress cut down to my navel in front and in back, well, you know to where.
My male friend’s reaction to this bit of virtual fluff was way too encouraging to ignore, so I decided to find more outfits appropriate for both dancing and capturing my dance partner’s libidinous attention.
Now that I had an audience, I was on my way to months of ‘dressing to impress’. In the past, when I dressed as I would in the real world, no one in SL noticed. My historically correct outfits were also ‘non-events’. Once I knew a reaction was forthcoming I tricked out my avi in something sheer, shiny, slinky and slit, and sparkly platform shoes. Thanks to the great exchange rate, the urge to shop in SL is tough enough for me to resist. The urge to shop for an outfit that successfully elicited lustful reactions from my gender of choice (hetero males), really got me hooked.
Time passed, and I amassed a sizable wardrobe of slutty outfits and 4″ killer heels when, one day, it occurred to me what I’d been doing. I’d become quite clever at filtering out any article of clothing that didn’t fit my perceived notion of what was ’sexy’. I optimized any purchase ‘for the hunt’, and never settled for anything that wasn’t guaranteed to raise a pixelated eyebrow. Had I sold out my avatar’s dignity (and by proxy, my own) for sexual attention?! It occurred to me I had done just that.
If you’re expecting this epiphany to have a wise and happy ending, don’t. In spite of the cleansing effect of my confession, I still suffer from Fredrick’s of Hollywood syndrome in SL. Aware as I am of my unsavory SL dressing motivation, recognizing that I have become a 3-D floozy isn’t the same as doing something about it, or even caring. Sure, I’ve tried a mash of contemporary and come-hither, but I know which side gets more weight – the side that shamelessly lures men like moths to a flame. There’s no self-hatred or potential for reform going on here. Just the acknowledgment that I dress for an audience that has no sense of discrimination for quality and style, only for what exposes – the more, the better.
So, next time you see me in my flexi-lace mini skirt, fishnet thigh-highs, barely-there midriff top and shiny vinyl fetish stilettos, go ahead and smile. I know what I’m doing. I’ve made my choice. I think.
