Just remembered this one time when I had my mom make me boy clothes for my middle school’s renaissance fair, because NO WAY was I going to stumble around in some huge puffy dress.
And there was this one very annoying boy who could not shut up about this for the rest of the year, calling me “crossdresser!” pejoratively. And unfortunately I was much too non-confrontational and shy to tell him off, but I couldn’t get over the fact that a lot of these things that were “boy’s clothes,” including the stuff that he himself was wearing, involved tights and embroidery and fluffy blouses and other things we’d normally consider girly. They were only masculine in this completely false, constructed context. The jeans and boots and baseball caps that modern girls wore apparently meant nothing to him. So easily we accept multiple definitions of masculinity and femininity in our mind, sometimes in completely contradictory ways. There’s no ground to base any of it on, but to that boy it was totally real, and to me it was totally fake.