Pre-show drinks with my new BFF/flatmate.
She added the caption and hit send without a moment’s dithering. This was a professional. Wow, thought Cassie, ‘BFF’ on the first day. That was either very flattering or slightly off. She decided to go with flattering. It was clear Ramona’s world was composed of one part reality and a whole lot of spin, but what the hell, it was fun. You could get way too much reality.
It felt exciting to be part of an aspirational world that other people could flick through and envy. Just then she remembered Da’s old advice that he’d dole out if she was nervous when heading out to a party as a teenager: ‘Just be yourself, love,’ he’d say. ‘Then ye can’t go wrong.’
Those simple words had always felt solid and reassuring, but up here in this polished world, watching the uber-glamorous Ramona flicking through her Instagram with fifty-five thousand followers, it struck her that just being the bog-standard version of yourself mightn’t cut it after all.
Ramona was commenting as she scrolled. ‘People will recognise you, you’ll see. Your face – well, your armpit – is everywhere. I have to keep my sponsors happy. They love to know what I’m doing, where I’m going, what I’m wearing.’
Cassie nodded. She thought back over her own life. Who was following her right now? Josie was probably sitting at home watching Netflix, as the faithful Pal brought her cream cheese on water biscuits with cucumber – her latest obsession. The girls were probably busy baby-wrangling or else had managed to get their kids settled and were flopping onto the sofa and gratefully pouring themselves a drink. Finn would have Cici, Conor and Samantha with him, the mythical three children who had a place in her imagination as they occupied his pale apartment. She glanced down at WhatsApp, only to realise that over the past frantic half hour with Ramona she’d missed a message from him.
Kids going to family party tomorrow (surprise!) u free to drop over 1 p.m.?
Her face lit up.
Surprise!!?Think I might just manage that!
She looked up and caught Ramona staring at her.
‘Just my chap,’ she explained. ‘At least, he is sort of my chap but we’re only new, so still feeling our way. No expectations, if you know what I mean. I actually didn’t expect him to be free this weekend.’
A shadow of unease crossed Cassie’s mind, but it didn’t have time to settle.
‘Got a photo?’ Ramona beckoned insistently towards her phone. Cassie laughed, enjoying her no-holds-barred familiarity.
‘Handsome,’ she pronounced, ‘in an IRL sort of way. Wholesome.’
She was looking at him with curiosity, like he was a rare animal that had been captured in the wild.
‘Nice sweater. Very .?.?. normal. But then, so are you.’
That could’ve been insulting said in a different tone, but in this case, it sounded almost wistful.
‘Ramona, I have to ask you .?.?. I’m really curious. Your style .?.?. aesthetic?’
Ramona eyeballed her. ‘What am I, you mean?’
‘Well, I wasn’t going to put it quite like that, but .?.?. how would you label yourself?’
‘Honey, I try not to label myself at all. But if you were to force me .?.?. I would say I’m a bio queen. Preferred pronoun she, with a capital S.’
‘So .?.?. you’re a woman, but in drag. Sometimes. Gotcha.’
‘Good for you. Not everyone does. See, the drag queens have been celebrating what it is to be a woman, in a radical version, for years. Now some of us feel it’s time to reclaim that for ourselves. Notfromthem, you understand, they’re welcome to it, but for us as well, the cis women.’
‘OK .?.?.’
‘Take the female icons of the past, chicks like Elizabeth I, Marie Antoinette in her wigs, they weren’t just biological women – their femininity was political.’
It struck Cassie that the example of Marie Antoinette was a bit doubtful but she thought better than to say so.
‘See, every time you step out of the house dressed like this, it’s innately political.’
‘Er, OK .?.?.’
‘It’s two fingers to the patriarchy and two fingers to gender norms.’
‘OK, but you’re a woman .?.?. dressed as a woman.’
