Besides Janie’s father, “Mr. Formal” may be the only male who has any say in Kirista and Janie’s wedding.  Mr. Formal is Janie’s tux rental shop, sandwiched in a crowded shopping center between the ubiquitous Northwest coffee shop and a chain supermarket.  The showroom seems undersized, with only ten tuxedoed mannequins. In the small waiting area, strangely formal for a shop in a strip mall, copies of Portland Bride magazine are neatly arranged on a coffee table.  The clerk at the shop is good at what he does.  He answers the phone, helps the browsing heterosexual couple, and checks on orders like he owns the place.  Positive and bubbly, he is in constant motion, a model of service and professionalism that is betrayed only by the beads of sweat forming on his brow. 

When Janie, Kirista, and their five-year-old ring bearer, Aaron, enter the shop for their final fitting, the clerk greets them at the door.  They are here to pick up two tuxedoes.  Kirista gives him the names.  He brings out Aaron’s miniature suit first and displays it for Kirista’s inspection.  Aaron is supposed to have a black tux with tails. 

“This doesn’t have tails, but do you know what?  I’m not going to worry about it,” Kirista says, almost to herself. 

The clerk hears her and looks at the order form.  Apparently the person who wrote up the order made a mistake.  “You wanted tails?  We can have that for you tomorrow without a problem.”

Kirista’s face lights up.  “Oh!  That would be wonderful.” 

She coaxes Aaron into the dressing area to try on the new clothes.

The clerk steps into the back room to grab the other tuxedo.  Because he doesn’t yet realize that the tux is for Janie, Kirista’s partner, he uses the male pronoun to talk about the person to be fitted.  When Janie steps closer to look at the suit, the clerk suddenly figures it out.  You can see it on his face. He looks at the tag and then at Janie, not missing a beat, “You must be Janie.”

Janie nods her head.  With the smoothness of a seasoned salesman, the clerk transfers his energy to her, pulling the all-white tuxedo out of the plastic garment bag and laying it out for her to try on. 

“These are exciting times,” he says to her with a smile.

“Oh yeah,” Janie answers.

Janie knew she wanted to wear a tux for the wedding from the very beginning.  A year previous, Janie’s sister, Jessica, had been married, and she had asked Janie to be a bridesmaid.  This posed an interesting challenge – with close-cropped hair, baggy male clothes, and a slight butch swagger, Janie did not fit the bill.  But when asked to grow out her hair and wear a dress, Janie agreed.  Jessica is her only sister.  Kirista says that Janie looked horrible in the dress.   Janie says, “I just didn’t feel like myself.  I wasn’t comfortable until I got my hair cut off.  When I got it cut – I could relax.”

Immediately after her sister’s ceremony, and to the chagrin of the photographer, Janie took off the dress.  And then later that same night she got her hair cut, adding a lip and eyebrow ring to complete the process of normalization.

Janie didn’t want to feel uncomfortable at her own wedding, and renting a tux was her answer.  For months, she had just planned to go with a simple black tux with a red cummerbund to match the wedding’s theme colors.  But once the couple had decided on elegant black bridesmaids’ dresses for their wedding party, they became worried that Janie wouldn’t stand out enough during the ceremony.  Besides, Janie was to be a bride, and brides wear white to their weddings.  From the glossy shoes to the silky tie, Janie’s tuxedo would be completely white.  The only splash of color would be the red handkerchief in her lapel pocket.

A few minutes later, Janie emerges from the dressing room, squirming a bit from the stiffness of the pants and shirt.  The clerk helps her on with her vest and jacket and puts the tie around her neck.  He begins to stuff the tie down into her buttoned vest, but has second thoughts.

“Will you do that?” he asks Janie.

 “Yeah.”

“I don’t mind doing it for the guys, but not for the girls…”

Kirista comes out of the dressing area and sees Janie in full dress. “You look fantastic!” she says.  It’s a rental, and it’s man’s suit, but Janie wears it well and with conviction.

Janie just smiles and turns to go back into the dressing room.  As she walks away, Kirista comes up behind her and wraps her arms around her fiancée’s waist.  She puts her head on Janie’s shoulder, and they disappear into the dressing area.  The clerk doesn’t bat an eye.

JES BURNS, a 2005 graduate of the University of Oregon’s literary nonfiction program, looks pretty good in a tuxedo.