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Abstract

eld all required me to dress up “nicely” for work. I had to be clean cut and I’m not a clean-cut-looking person, if that makes sense.I’d get berated for not wearing a bra and preferring baggy shirts. Bras are not only uncomfortable for me; they’re also not part of my gender expression. I’d also hear people bemoan that I didn’t spend half an hour on makeup.Without fail, I noticed that there is a certain kabuki dance that is expected of the American middle class. You have to buy the right clothing brands, have the right hairstyle, trim up, and spend an hour or so performing your look.You know who does not have to doll up for day-to-day life? People who work for themselves, people who are wealthy enough to not work, and people who operate on a different set of norms from a typical middle-class person.When you reach a certain level of personal power or wealth, what others think of you no longer matters. Why? Because you are now the 600-pound gorilla in the room.That’s why Doris Duke was still highly regarded and accepted, despite her eccentricities. That’s why you never see anyone bat an eye at the awesomely fascinating antics of <a href="https://headlinermagazine.net/meeting-sir-ivan-the-peaceman.html">Sir Ivan</a>, or why Salvador Dali basically did whatever the fuck he wanted to do.<h1 id="04c0">What does a 600-pound gorilla do in a room? Whatever the fuck they want.</h1>Think back to the last really fancy restaurant you ate at — the one that got three Michelin Stars. Did you notice how all the waitstaff tend to be dressed better than the patrons?What about the time you go to an investment brokerage with your $500,000 nest egg? Did you notice that the brokers are the ones with Brooks Brothers suits, not you? That’s because they are there to serve you.The tie, once a sign of high status, is now more a sign of servitude than anything else. If you want to see who’s the person who everyone respects, look at the one who everyone treats with reverence, even when they don’t look like they belong.In many situations, you might notice that there is one person who doesn’t look or act like the rest. They stick out, but people still behave respectfully toward them. That person is the one I call the 600-pound gorilla in the room.<h1 id="88a1">The 600-pound gorilla is so powerful, they don’t care what you think of them.</h1>They don’t care what you think about them because they secretly know that you need them more than they need you. In many cases, they also know that pissing them off can mean a lot worse for you than them.When you go into a fancy restaurant and see a guy who’s dressed in sweatpants h

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appily munching away on food, you better believe he’s probably the wealthiest, most famous person in the building — if not the owner himself.When you go into a club and see a woman in sweatpants when everyone else is in high heels, she might be the DJ, the owner, or just a celebrity on an “off” day. Once again, she’s not the one to try to take down a peg.The person who loudly bitches about the owner’s attire is the person who ends up getting ejected and blackballed from the restaurant. Or, if it’s a celebrity, the person who bitches might get made fun of by the other patrons.<h1 id="6d40">People don’t realize how much it takes to be able to be that 600-pound gorilla until they try it.</h1>Have you ever tried to be frumpy and/or shaggy around other people who are well-dressed? It’s not always easy to do. Most people I know who can dress shaggy and still get respect have at least one or more of these traits:<ul><li>They do not work for someone, but rather, work for themselves. If they do work for someone, they are often so singularly skilled that they would be nearly impossible to replace.</li><li>They are wealthy. They are so wealthy, your rejection of them means nothing. They could easily just bribe their way in or otherwise buy private services that would be better than whatever venue bitches them out.</li><li>They are famous. Fun story, Bruce Springsteen was at the mall that my mom and I were at back when I was a kid. Mom didn’t recognize him, and saw him talking to two teen girl fans who were smiling at him. They left and she glared at him, assuming he’s a shaggy-looking creep.

Springsteen, the 600-pound gorilla, asked annoyedly, “What, you want an autograph too?” My mother, just not giving a fuck because she’s her, told him to fuck off in fewer words. Everyone’s jaw dropped as we left. Even though I was a kid, I felt those eyes.</li><li>They don’t view the people who would judge them as worth impressing. Do you think that Taylor Swift cares what the basement-dwelling misogynist thinks about her? The answer is a hard no. Why would she? She’s a billionaire, and most of her haters are just regular people who don’t have much impact on culture.</li></ul>Being a 600-pound gorilla isn’t just a matter of status. It’s a matter of confidence and freedom. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ‘gorilla out’ when I’m not modeling or trying to impress my partner.<figure id="10f8"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*grWtyumoxW2L5VSvvFoplw.png"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure id="a57f"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*nW0cCwG_a_LMI2fcY1PFUw.png"><figcaption>Bang, gorilla!</figcaption></figure></article></body>

You Gotta Fight…For Your Right…To Be Frumpy!

It takes a lot to be the 600 pound gorilla in the room.

I’ll be honest. For every single photo you see of me smiling and wearing tight jeans, I really don’t like to “dress pretty” most of the time. If you catch me in my day-to-day, I’m either wearing an artist smock, baggy palazzo pants and a baggier tee, or a track suit.

My hair falls down on my shoulders like a lion’s mane or a mop, depending on whether I give a shit enough to try to add product to it. I don’t wear much makeup in my daily wear, either. If you’re lucky, I’ll wear real shoes instead of my housekeeping slides.

This is not because I’m depressed or because I don’t care about myself. Ask anyone around me and they’ll tell you that I bathe frequently, stop by spas whenever I can, brush my teeth daily, and also am big into spiritual self-care.

If I’m comfortable and clothed, bingo. That’s all I need. And I like my drapey, tent-like clothing because they are light-wearing and breezy. Also, they hide my body — a plus for someone who doesn’t like looking too female.

Recently, I went to the mall and realized how frumpy I looked compared to the average mall walker.

In my area of New Jersey, malls are still very popular. They are where people go to show off their outfits, hang out, and yes, shop. It’s not just a teen thing; it’s an adult thing too.

Everyone’s got their hair done nice, wearing tight jeans, coordinated outfits, and I’m just…kinda two steps away from being sighted in the woods like a rabid Sasquatch.

I actually felt self-conscious for a moment, but then snapped out of it quickly. I reminded myself about why I don’t care and how it doesn’t matter — even though it’s baffled most people around me for as long as they’ve known me.

Ready for this?

I see my shaggy, rolled-out-of-bed appearance as a status symbol.

Now, hear me out. Most of our society is hellbent on image. The most demeaning jobs I ever held all required me to dress up “nicely” for work. I had to be clean cut and I’m not a clean-cut-looking person, if that makes sense.

I’d get berated for not wearing a bra and preferring baggy shirts. Bras are not only uncomfortable for me; they’re also not part of my gender expression. I’d also hear people bemoan that I didn’t spend half an hour on makeup.

Without fail, I noticed that there is a certain kabuki dance that is expected of the American middle class. You have to buy the right clothing brands, have the right hairstyle, trim up, and spend an hour or so performing your look.

You know who does not have to doll up for day-to-day life? People who work for themselves, people who are wealthy enough to not work, and people who operate on a different set of norms from a typical middle-class person.

When you reach a certain level of personal power or wealth, what others think of you no longer matters. Why? Because you are now the 600-pound gorilla in the room.

That’s why Doris Duke was still highly regarded and accepted, despite her eccentricities. That’s why you never see anyone bat an eye at the awesomely fascinating antics of Sir Ivan, or why Salvador Dali basically did whatever the fuck he wanted to do.

What does a 600-pound gorilla do in a room? Whatever the fuck they want.

Think back to the last really fancy restaurant you ate at — the one that got three Michelin Stars. Did you notice how all the waitstaff tend to be dressed better than the patrons?

What about the time you go to an investment brokerage with your $500,000 nest egg? Did you notice that the brokers are the ones with Brooks Brothers suits, not you? That’s because they are there to serve you.

The tie, once a sign of high status, is now more a sign of servitude than anything else. If you want to see who’s the person who everyone respects, look at the one who everyone treats with reverence, even when they don’t look like they belong.

In many situations, you might notice that there is one person who doesn’t look or act like the rest. They stick out, but people still behave respectfully toward them. That person is the one I call the 600-pound gorilla in the room.

The 600-pound gorilla is so powerful, they don’t care what you think of them.

They don’t care what you think about them because they secretly know that you need them more than they need you. In many cases, they also know that pissing them off can mean a lot worse for you than them.

When you go into a fancy restaurant and see a guy who’s dressed in sweatpants happily munching away on food, you better believe he’s probably the wealthiest, most famous person in the building — if not the owner himself.

When you go into a club and see a woman in sweatpants when everyone else is in high heels, she might be the DJ, the owner, or just a celebrity on an “off” day. Once again, she’s not the one to try to take down a peg.

The person who loudly bitches about the owner’s attire is the person who ends up getting ejected and blackballed from the restaurant. Or, if it’s a celebrity, the person who bitches might get made fun of by the other patrons.

People don’t realize how much it takes to be able to be that 600-pound gorilla until they try it.

Have you ever tried to be frumpy and/or shaggy around other people who are well-dressed? It’s not always easy to do. Most people I know who can dress shaggy and still get respect have at least one or more of these traits:

They do not work for someone, but rather, work for themselves. If they do work for someone, they are often so singularly skilled that they would be nearly impossible to replace.
They are wealthy. They are so wealthy, your rejection of them means nothing. They could easily just bribe their way in or otherwise buy private services that would be better than whatever venue bitches them out.
They are famous. Fun story, Bruce Springsteen was at the mall that my mom and I were at back when I was a kid. Mom didn’t recognize him, and saw him talking to two teen girl fans who were smiling at him. They left and she glared at him, assuming he’s a shaggy-looking creep. Springsteen, the 600-pound gorilla, asked annoyedly, “What, you want an autograph too?” My mother, just not giving a fuck because she’s her, told him to fuck off in fewer words. Everyone’s jaw dropped as we left. Even though I was a kid, I felt those eyes.
They don’t view the people who would judge them as worth impressing. Do you think that Taylor Swift cares what the basement-dwelling misogynist thinks about her? The answer is a hard no. Why would she? She’s a billionaire, and most of her haters are just regular people who don’t have much impact on culture.

Being a 600-pound gorilla isn’t just a matter of status. It’s a matter of confidence and freedom. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ‘gorilla out’ when I’m not modeling or trying to impress my partner.