Last year, I was invited to be the featured performer for Spiderweb Salon’s first open mic night. In the promo for the event on social media, there was a photo of me performing on stage in a mesh shirt from a different event. And because courtney marie, Spiderweb Salon founder, is, among other things, a genius, they encouraged attendees to come to the event in a mesh shirt. It was an off-hand, silly addition to a post on social media. I doubted people would read the caption—a lot of communications people are convinced they don’t—and be up to the task. How could I doubt my wonderful community?

To my absolute delight, more than two people joined us that night in April sporting a variety of mesh shirts! Obviously, I’d worn one myself—a new one I’d bought for the night. I shared my disbelief with friends shortly before my set, surprised that folks actually went along with the bit. My friends basically said: well, yeah. James = mesh shirts, so what better excuse? As though mesh shirts were the equivalent of band merch or a con costume. Careful everyone, I might get too full of myself.

The first mesh shirt I ever bought was found inside of an adult entertainment store for OUTreach Denton‘s Palentine’s Dance just before the pandemic started. I’d spent the whole day searching for the perfect mesh shirt—hopefully black and hopefully in my size but I wasn’t hopeful I’d check off either box. I had this vision of how I wanted to look that night. Masculine, liberated, daring. This James would ooze sexual confidence even if he was having a hard time feeling it.

I waited (as per usual) until the day before the dance to purchase one. I could’ve easily ordered one online, but no, no. I needed the full Sara’s Secret experience to make my choice. There’s only a few of Sara’s Secret type stores in Denton and the last store I tried that rainy day in February is still open! It was the last store because all the other stores I tried didn’t carry a single mesh shirt that wasn’t attached to a matching thong.

My only option was deep in the aisles of Sara’s Secret (see what I did there?). It’s upsetting to say that the closest approximation of what I was looking for was part of a sexy cop costume (ACAB). I tentatively approached the counter, glancing to the left and right of the very empty store to make sure me and the cashier were alone. It was hard to tell what judgements they were making during the transaction. The classic James move is to get ahead of the embarrassment with a joke: “I’m just buying it for the mesh shirt.” They met my eyes and nodded but didn’t seem convinced as they rang up the total. $40 for a blue, cop-adjacent mesh shirt PLUS a matching hat and skirt. (I actually have no idea what happened to this set. It’s been four years, okay??) 

The next night, I prepared for the dance, adding a black vest over the mesh like a wrap over a bathing suit. It was just a little too much to be out in public with a top that didn’t hide much of anything. The February chill needed at least one barrier other than my jacket. With a pair of black skinny jeans and Chelsea boots, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and felt electric, a neon sign humming away in the dark of the night. 

After about a half hour, the thrill of what was peeking out over the black satin was too great to ignore. As soon as I removed the vest I walked in with, it didn’t come back on for the rest of the night. I didn’t want to hide, not anymore. I grew up believing that disguising the sexualized parts of my body was more important than what I wanted to wear. When I came out to myself as trans, I shed that misplaced responsibility to reveal the crippling chest dysphoria I’d been experiencing for longer than I’d like to admit. I’d gotten top surgery a little over six months before that night at Crossroads (RIP). I wanted to show off what $6,500 could buy! Wearing that mesh shirt that night gave me the agency I’d been craving. I got top surgery. I bought the shirt. And now, I felt hot and wholly myself.

I now own several mesh tops in various styles mostly all bought for a specific occasion, some purchased because Instagram ads are way too targeted. One of my favorites has embroidered black roses sprinkled down the sides and along the bottom. 

During quarantine, there obviously weren’t events to pull up to in a mesh top. Luckily, my community is incredibly creative so we still found ways to make dance parties, hangouts, and open mics happen. Popping up in a Zoom square wearing a mesh shirt didn’t have quite the same effect as it would have IRL but it was affirming every time the chat lit up with my name in all caps before a series of exclamation points.

Mesh tops are perfect for thirst traps on Instagram and posts to celebrate your birthday, HRT anniversary, or really any occasion! One time I posted a selfie just to make sure people were aware that the literal icepocalypse outside my door wouldn’t keep me from wearing a clingy tank top with colorful flowers stitched throughout the mesh (flowers + mesh is really my brand apparently).

I wouldn’t be opposed to wearing a mesh shirt to the store, to the park, to every single concert. As soon as the metaphorical can was opened, my dedication to buying as many mesh tops as possible was cemented. The vision of the look has changed over time. Current James doesn’t ascribe to the same type of masculinity I did in 2020. Even so, whenever I wear one, I feel free, proud, and empowered.

This is a PSA that anyone can wear a mesh top. Mesh shirts aren’t gendered and you absolutely don’t need to have had top surgery to wear them! I highly recommend trying one especially if you’ve been fantasizing about it. If you really need an occasion, isn’t Pride the perfect time?

There’s just something so keenly gender-affirming about wearing certain clothes or accessories. For me, it’s mesh tops—what about for you?