There seem to be quite a few photographs of me in which I’m wearing nineteenth-century clothing. I’ve decided to admit to it – I’m a transtemp. That’s short for trans-temporal. I’m what used to be called, behind closed doors by people who discussed such things, a cross-time dresser. Transtemps are a small but growing minority, who are only now beginning to speak up for themselves. Transtemps are not comfortable with the time period they’ve been born into, and find an outlet by dressing in clothes appropriate to a different era.
Many transtemps hide behind excuses – “I’m a Civil War reenactor!” or, “I’m on my way to a Renaissance Fair!” or, “Omigod, the professor’s wacky invention really worked!” and it is hard to get them to admit they just enjoy dressing up. Transtemps will never willingly come out of the closet – they’re too busy trying on the older stuff in the back.
Transtemp choices of attire run the gamut from Roman empire to medieval to early twentieth-century. (They keep trying to organize a Transtemp Pride Parade but, obviously, they can’t agree on a date.)
As a frequently vilified and misunderstood group – “What? Are you saying there’s something WRONG with modern fashion?” – transtemps believe in tolerance and acceptance of all those who are different. Except, of course, for those who like to dress up as fictional people, like characters in the Harry Potter books or The Lord of the Rings.
Those people are just plain nuts.