Sometimes it’s a curious child who asks me that. I don’t mind them, I simply answer them. Sometimes they keep asking, like “how come you wear so-and-so if you’re a girl?”, or “how come you don’t wear so-and so?”. My answers are “because I like wearing it” and “because I don’t like it”, respectively. Most of the time, it works with kids. You like it, you wear it. You don’t like it, you don’t wear it. Plain and simple. Kids are good with that.
Adults tend to be more boring than that. Some of them don’t hesitate to lecture me. I should do this, I shouldn’t do that. There was a guy who asked me for directions thinking I was a boy, lowered his gaze and almost got angry. He said something like “I thought you were a boy” as if I deceived him somehow — and as if it was any of his business whether a random stranger on the street was a boy or a girl. As if I owed it to him to make it apparent what was between my legs, whatever his idea of apparent was. I think he didn’t even hear the directions I gave him, he was so upset.
It never bothers me when someone thinks I’m a boy. It amuses me. It doesn’t bother me if they think I’m a girl, either. If someone is confused and asks politely, I don’t mind answering. But a perfect stranger lecturing me on what I should look like and what I should be wearing, even though I’m not wearing something which would get me arrested? If it’s a medical professional telling me what I’m wearing is unhealthy, fine, but other than that, it’s ridiculous.
People are weird sometimes. Cats are better. They may lecture you about hunting by bringing you half-dead mice and birds, but if they have any opinion whether you should look like a boy-cat or a girl-cat (whatever their idea of how should a boy-cat or a girl-cat look like), they’re smart and polite enough to keep it to themselves.