#...so a lot of this was really just me wanting to reflect on cam's s3 wardrobe and her promo portrait especially

[haltandcatchfiretothemax]

FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2020 #22: In which Cameron and Donna get dressed

[CN: gender non-conformity and related bodily discomfort with gendered clothing; non-graphic references to being harassed for gender non-conformity]

Ed’s note: @dealanexmachina sent me a prompt, and this is a follow up to the post it originally inspired!

(PREVIOUSLY)

Two nights before the gala, Cameron showed up to Donna’s house for their nightly work date carrying a garment bag. “Uh, is it cool if I leave this here? And like, maybe I could just show up early and get dressed here, before the party?” Donna eyed the garment bag with apparent interest. “I called Risa, and her partner, we went shopping, and I saw their tailor.” 

Donna’s face lit up. “So it worked out then? That’s great! Let me put this in my closet….” Donna got up and started toward her room, and Cameron went with her. When they got there, Cameron handed the bag over, and Donna hung it from a hook on the back of the door. Then, she asked, “Hey, can I look? I’m curious about what you wound up picking out.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Cameron had said, uncertain.

Donna unzipped the bag, and when she saw the gray blazer inside, she smiled. 

Nervously, Cameron laughed, “What?”

“Nothing, it just reminds me of a blazer you used to wear when we first moved out here,” Donna said. “The one that fit you really well. You had some stuff back then that started to cross the line from ‘oversized’ to ‘it looks too big on her,’ but, you also had stuff that looked really nice on you.” Donna gently touched the blazer’s lapel, and without meaning to, imagined smoothing out the blazer while Cameron was actually wearing it, and Cameron smiling back at her as she did so. Face feeling warm, Donna zipped up the bag. “So how was it? Shopping, I mean? It wasn’t terrible, was it?”

“Eh,” Cameron sighed. “It wasn’t terrible, Risa actually came with me?”

“Aw!” Donna exclaimed. “I wish I could’ve been there!”

Looking very uncomfortable, Cameron had said, “It was a lot. It wasn’t just shopping, it was like…what I imagine therapy is like. And why I’m not interested in therapy.”

“Oh?” Donna frowned.

Cameron shook her head. “There was just, a lot of ‘why do you think wearing dresses and other women’s clothes causes you so much discomfort? Why do you think you’re feeling discomfort right now? What are you worried about, Cameron, why does this scare you?’ It was a long day.”

“Oh. Well, did it work?” Donna asked.

Tentatively, Cameron said, “I found something to wear, so, I guess?”

When Cameron showed up at Donna’s house, two days later, an entire hour before the gala was slated to begin, the only thing more shocking than her punctuality was how she looked: Donna, in a dressing gown herself, her hair already set in curlers, opened her front door expecting to find a delivery person or early guest, but there was Cameron, in a button down flannel shirt and her overalls, carrying her backpack as always, but with her hair clearly just washed, moussed, blow dried, and smoothed into place, and her (barely detectable) makeup already done. 

“Okay, the shocked look on your face? Is not a compliment,” Cameron snapped.

“It’s not shock!” Donna had protested. “It’s just…you look great.”

“Well,” Cameron pushed past her, “when I get back to the salon, I’ll be sure to let everyone there know you approve of my makeover.”

Haley and Vanessa had just sat down at the dining room table with Vanessa’s tarot cards and guide book. They watched as Cameron came in, Donna following her. Vanessa whistled, and called out, “Foxy lady!”

Cameron blushed, but then she stopped and turned to Donna. “See? That felt like a compliment.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Not that I came here like this looking for compliments.”

Vanessa and Haley looked at each other, and then back at Cameron and Donna. 

Unsure of what else to say, Donna defaulted to momsplaining mode. “So, Cameron is here, for the gala!”

“Gala tiiiime, excellennnnt!” Vanessa sang.

“Are those the same overalls you wore last year? When you fell into the pool?” Haley asked. 

“A fashion statement that’s bold in its casual whimsy,” Vanessa said.

“She’s got a more formal outfit to wear,” Donna said. “She went shopping with Risa.”

Voice full of sudden yearning, Haley said, “I wanna go shopping with Risa,”

“Can I also get in on that?” Vanessa asked. “Because I’d like to see that.”

“Would you, though?” Cameron squinted. Clutching at the straps of her backpack, she warned them, “Risa doesn’t let you just pick things out and try them on. She makes you talk about your feelings.”

In unison, Vanessa and Haley both said, “That sounds like her.”

“Well prom is coming up, right sweetie?” Donna asked. Haley gave her a look, and then Donna said, “There’s also graduation. Maybe if Risa wouldn’t mind, we could all go?” 

Flatly, Cameron said, “I love you all, but that still sounds like hell on earth.”

Vanessa and Haley laughed out loud, and Donna, struggling to suppress her own laughter, grimaced broadly. “Speaking of which!” she said. “It’s almost time. Wanna go get dressed?”

Haley and Vanessa looked at each other again.

Still feeling incredibly self-conscious and put out by the entire thing, Cameron said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Okay! You girls have fun, and, I guess we’ll see you later?” Donna said. 

“We will definitely be here,” Vanessa said.

Donna started toward her bedroom, and Cameron went with her. Haley watched them, and under her breath, she said, “God I wish Joanie was here to see this.”

Vanessa smirked at her.

In her bedroom, Donna grinned, “You really do look very nice. I know it’s different and that we’re teasing you about it, but it’s not because it didn’t turn out right.” She quietly closed the door most of the way without shutting it entirely. She turned back to Cameron, and said, “We’re mostly teasing you because you seem like you kind of hate it.”

Cameron shrugged off her backpack. Face scrunched, she said, “I do kind of hate it. I hate how it always feels like I’m dressing up for someone else, or some secret universal beauty pageant, even though I’m not really.”

Donna sat down lightly at her vanity. “Well, in that case, next year, change of plans. Instead of a gala, I’ll have a hayride, so you can wear your overalls, and I can wear my cowboy boots that still haven’t seen the light of day in this state.” 

Cameron smiled tentatively, arms crossed over her chest again. “I’ll invest in a new flannel shirt for the occasion.” 

Picking up an eye shadow brush, Donna said, “Your clothes are still hanging in the same spot in the walk-in, if you wanna get dressed in there?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Cameron said. She looked around the room uncertainly, as if looking for directions, or maybe an excuse to do something else, and then she turned and went into the closet.

Donna swept some slightly shimmery taupe eye shadow onto her right eyelid, and then blended it out through the crease. She did the same to the second eye, and then picking up a black pencil eye liner, she awkwardly said, “So this is fun, huh…? Just…gettin’ ready together…having’ fun….”

As she unbuttoned her shirt, Cameron said, “Yes, my high school dreams of being best friends with the pretty, popular girls is finally coming true.”

Donna used a stiffer brush to smudge the minimal amount of eye liner she’d just applied close to her right eye’s lash line. She pictured Cameron, struggling to put on clothes she didn’t love for a party that she didn’t want to go to. “You know, I’m glad you’re here?” she called out. “I really hope it won’t be completely miserable for you, though.”

Pulling on her brand new trousers, Cameron said, “Well, there’s gonna be food, and you’ll be there. It’ll be like every night that I’m here, just with like 50 other people. I’ll manage.”

Curling her eye lashes now, Donna gazed into the mirror, and again, without really meaning to, imagined Cameron, on the other side of her closet door, carefully getting dressed for her gala, and was overwhelmed by a surge of affection. She felt herself start to flush, and then looked in the mirror, and saw her cheeks glowing red. She took a deep breath, and said, “Well, I appreciate it. And who knows, maybe you’ll even have fun, and meet some new people?” She moved on to applying her mascara as calmly as she could. 

Tucking her shirt into her trousers, Cameron grinned, “Stranger things have happened, right?”

Donna was tapping on some concealer when Cameron quietly stepped back into the bedroom a couple minutes later. She sat down on the bench in front of Donna’s bed, and pulled a pair of pointy black brogues out of her bag.

Donna glanced back over her shoulder. “Those look really nice.” When Cameron didn’t say anything, Donna asked her, “So, when Risa asked you what you’re ‘scared of,’ and what’s making you ‘uncomfortable.’ What did you say?”

Lacing the first of her shoes, Cameron said, “I told her that I’m scared of looking and feeling silly and like an alien, just like everyone else is. And then she was all, ‘No, be more specific. Dig deep for me, Cameron.’” It had been scary at the time, but Cameron grinned. She put on her other shoe, and said, “So I told her about how finding pants that fit me is really difficult, because they’re always too short, and usually, they’re either weird and baggy, or they’re too tight and show how skinny my legs are. To which Risa said, ‘Well my heart bleeds for you, every pair of paints making you look tall and slim must be a horrendous burden to bear.’”

Donna giggled so hard that she doubled over slightly, and had to put down the blush compact she’d just picked up. 

Cameron sat up, and was quiet for a second, as she listened to Donna, and watched her shoulders shake with quiet laughter. When she finally snorted and then made herself stop, Cameron continued. “Uh, I also realized that I’m weird about fabrics? It’s not just how fancy, formal women’s clothes are cut, the fabrics are like, itchy and weird to me, and like, just thinking about it makes me weirdly anxious?”

Sympathetically, as she blended out her blush, Donna said, “Some fabrics really do feel horrendous, and they don’t breathe well enough.”

Donna had just barely finished her sentence when Cameron blurted out, “When I was a kid people used to make fun of me for looking like a boy. When I was in high school I realized that what they were really saying was that I looked like, you know. Like I didn’t like boys, and that I must like girls.”

Donna looked up from the three lipsticks she’d been trying to choose from, and half turned back toward Cameron. “What do you mean, what people were saying? Did people actually say things about that to you?”

“People mostly thought it, I think,” Cameron said, hunching over in her seat. “There was this one guy I went to high school with who used to bother me about it, like, a lot, like it felt like he lived to bug me about it. My guidance counselor said that maybe it was because he had a crush on me. Which, the feeling really wasn’t even remotely mutual.”

Donna, both lost for words and still struggling to pick a lip color, didn’t say anything. Haltingly, Cameron added, “It took me a really long time to admit this, part of why it bothered me so much is that I wasn’t really interested in boys. And it felt like something must be wrong with me. And pretending that I was didn’t help, it just made me seem weirder, and more awkward, and, fake.”

Rolling her eyes slightly, Donna said, “ I wasn’t interested in boys in high school, either.” She finally decided on the deep rosy nude lipstick and swiped it on. 

Surprised, Cameron sat up. “Really?”

Donna scoffed into her vanity mirror as she started to pull the rollers out of her hair. “I mean, I dated some, in high school, and I fooled around with a couple of boys. But it wasn’t for them, it was for me, because I wanted to go out, and because I wanted to try things, and seeing what being that kind of girl was like. I didn’t really like anyone until college, I was on my own, I was studying what I was interested in, and I met Gordon, and….”

“Your astrophysicist?” Cameron finished for her.

“Yes,” Donna said quietly. She stood up quickly, raked her hair into place with her fingers, and said, “I’m gonna get dressed, though.” She disappeared into her closet, where she started to hyperventilate for a moment, before she made herself calm down and focus on putting on her dress, and stepping into her shoes, and going back out into her room. 

“Hey,” she said, trying to sound relaxed. “Uh, I’m almost ready, I’m just gonna put on some jewelry, so....” She hurried back to her vanity, where she put on a watch.

“Okay,” Cameron stood up. She started to pull her blazer.

Donna turned back to her as she was putting in the second of a pair of small gold hoop earrings. Momentarily forgetting what she was doing, Donna said, “Wow.”

She was wearing the blazer over a plain black crew neck top, which was tucked into her high-waisted gray pleated silk tweed trousers, which were being held up by a pair of plain black suspenders. As if on cue, the color rose in Cameron’s cheeks. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Donna shook her head. “You just do that so well.”

Cameron cackled as she smoothed out her clothes. “Do what well, exactly? Look confused about my gender and sexuality?”

Donna didn’t want to be overly serious, but she also couldn’t bring herself to laugh. “You look good, Cam,” she grinned. “Not every woman can carry that off.” 

Cameron slid her hands into her pockets. “Thanks.”

Donna stepped tentatively toward her bedroom door, and then she stopped to look in the full-length mirror that was hung there. Having worn a long, flowing, sleeveless, bright red dress the previous year, Donna had chosen to go shorter, slimmer, and darker for this gala. A deep wine red sheath with a slightly looser bodice and sleeves, the hemline fell several inches above her knee, and the neckline was high. Donna wasn’t typically one to second guess these kinds of choices, but she looked in the mirror, and worried that the dress was too short. She smoothed out the bottom half of the dress, hoping it would look longer, and then started to compulsively smooth her hair down.

Exasperated, Cameron joined her in front of the mirror. Firmly, she said, “Donna. You look fine.” She looked into the mirror so she could catch Donna’s eye, but then saw the both of them, standing next to each other. We match, Cameron realized. They didn’t literally match, but they looked like they went together. Cameron had never felt that way standing next to anyone else.

Donna looked at her, saw that she was looking in the mirror, and then looked into the mirror with her. I do look fine, she thought. And we really look nice together. Donna smiled at the mirror. 

“You look better than fine,” Cameron said, feeling mildly anxious. “You look really nice, as always.”

“Thank you,” Donna said. “Shall we?”

Cameron nodded, and Donna stepped forward and pulled open the door. She walked through it, and Cameron followed her.