In a nation rocked by a brutal anti-trans movement, TransWeek in Provincetown celebrated the beauty of its community at the Common Threads Fashion Show on Oct. 21. Emcee Cody Suzuki describes it as a celebration that is “not only a show of fashion but also brings to life the stories our outfits tell.”
I first came to TransWeek, then known as Fantasia Fair, in 2012 to lead a writing workshop. I was a small-town doctor in upstate New York. Five transgender patients had sought care in my family practice. I saw right away that these patients were special. They weren’t sick; they were seeking to live life as their authentic selves. I learned how to prescribe hormones and then, astounded, I watched as my patients bloomed.
But they brought new concerns to my exam room. How best to come out? To redefine relationships? To manage rejection or affirmation? To change legal documents? To challenge discrimination? To find a surgeon? At first, I was poorly equipped to respond. Coming to Provincetown for an immersive social networking conference was part of my own education.
I didn’t know then that I, too, would find healing at TransWeek. I didn’t know that someone like me, a heterosexual, cisgender, privileged white doctor would be welcomed with love. (“I’m sure you’ve got some perfectly good paraphilia you’re just being modest about,” quipped a member of the welcoming committee, extending her arms in a hug.) I didn’t expect to encounter trans joy — the deep happiness and liberation that transgender people experience living as their true selves. This goes beyond surviving or avoiding hardship; it emphasizes self-acceptance and flourishing.
TransWeek is the longest-running annual event in the transgender world. It started in Provincetown in 1975 under the direction of Ariadne Kane and other members of the Cherrystones, a Boston support group for cross-dressers. Over time, transgender women participated in increasing numbers, as well as transgender men. It offers a safe and affirming environment for trans people to learn about and celebrate themselves and their community.
This year there were workshops on voice therapy, drag history, living with autism, mental and physical wellness, youth homelessness, and at-home cervical cancer screening. There was an open mic night, a Thanksgiving dinner, “queeraoke,” and the popular Fantasia Fair Follies. I’m not sure what the haters think transgender people do at these events, but I’ll tell you: we played Bingo on Tuesday night with retired police Sgt. Carrie Lopes as our host and prizes donated by Provincetown merchants.
The Common Threads Show at the Crown & Anchor featured fashion statements by 14 TransWeek participants who told the stories behind their attire. “The show is meant to be inclusive,” said Suzuki, a poet and storyteller. “We aren’t looking for polished performances. We want everyone comfortable on this runway.”
The Provincetown community came out to support the fashion show. “We are huge allies of the trans community,” said Michael Borum, an adviser to Oxfam who was there with his husband, novelist Christopher Castellani. “It’s inspiring to witness the first time someone publicly dresses in a way that aligns with their identity. We want to validate this experience. I think more cisgender gay men need to show up to support our trans siblings.”
Local businesses also showed up. Andrew Deschenes and Mary Decremer from Zinnia lent jewelry to accessorize outfits. Stevie Carey from Wardrobe, make-up artist Doug Mason from Limelight, and Barbara Mirlocca from Florence’s Fashions in Wakefield styled dresses, performed makeovers, and teased high beehive hair-dos for Julie and Laura Gregory of Boston.
Juliette Berton, a quality assurance specialist in life sciences from Kittery, Maine, handled the door. “I’m floored by the enthusiasm of the audience members,” she said. “They clearly understand the importance of this event. They wear my hand stamp like a badge of love. I feed off that energy, as do the performers.”
Kate Gilligan, a retired pharmacist from Fairfax, Va., has participated in Common Threads since 2019. This year, she co-hosted the event with Suzuki. Gilligan wore a 1970s glittery blouse, rainbow tights, and white boots, carried a boom box, and sang Sly & the Family Stone’s “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin).”
“I’m a hippie — I came of age in the ’70s,” Gilligan told the audience. “That’s probably why I’m in recovery!” Backstage, she said, “My first year at TransWeek I was so nervous. I was ashamed of myself for being trans. A woman approached me at the welcoming party and suggested I join the fashion show. I was terrified. I knew I couldn’t put myself out there like that. People would jeer. Children would point fingers and laugh! But I’d missed out on so many girl experiences, so I gave it a try. I stepped out on the runway as myself and was greeted with cheers and applause.”
Marguerite Myles from Pawtucket, R.I. and Lynn Taber from Arlington sat up front. “I come to TransWeek because it is important to my spouse, Beth,” said Myles. “When she’s in a supportive environment, she can be her whole self. I love what I discover about myself here, too.” Taber also came to support her spouse, who transitioned after turning 70. “I’m here to see her joy as she struts her stuff on the runway,” said Taber.
Myles and Taber also attended the Relationship Track, a daily workshop for those who are or were in partnered relationships. I’ve been assisting Dr. Maureen Osborne, a clinical psychologist, in facilitating this program. Our goal is to help those in relationships become authors of the stories they wish to tell and explore the question: “Who are we becoming, apart or together?” In this group, I hear stories about fierce and abiding love that transcends gender transitions. It leads me to reflect on my own life and how I wish to live in the world.
This year’s Pioneer Award winner, Distinguished Professor of Political Science Paisley Currah at CUNY, presented a keynote address on the current moment in anti-trans politics. “The federal government is doing everything it can to reverse trans rights,” said Currah. “But with gatherings like this show, they can’t undo our life history.”
TransWeek board president Dee LaValle from East Bridgewater noted that celebratory events are particularly important now. “As the transgender community faces increasing acts of violence across the country, and the federal government continues to erode civil rights protections, the TransWeek Common Threads Fashion Show stands as a beacon of hope,” she said. “Far more than a social event, it is a powerful visible act of resilience, community, and a celebration of self-expression.”
“We’re here to stay,” sang my friend Alice from New York City at the Fantasia Fair Follies. “Everyone, please, sing along!”
Carolyn Wolf-Gould, M.D., now retired, is the founder of the Gender Wellness Center of the Bassett Healthcare Network in Oneonta, N.Y. She is co-editor of A History of Transgender Medicine in the United States, published by SUNY Press.
