“I’d hold you in higher esteem if you wore pants.”

Trigger warning: sexism and objectification of women.

Disclaimer: I am not out to cancel these people (hence the lack of identifiable details) [1]
Instead of their names, I want their behaviour to be highlighted, and if indeed deemed as inappropriate, then see that behaviour (theirs) changed for the future, and be a teaching (“how not to”) moment for us.

This took place some years ago. I’ll call the two people involved (two separate accounts on the same tour) John, Dave, and Mike.

After one of our shows that summer, back on the tourbus, Mike asked me to sit with them for a chat:

“I want to talk with you about how you present yourself. I think you’re too visible.”
“Oh, am I?”
“I want you to wear black on stage.”
“I do during the show, just not during daytime. It’s 30+ degrees outside and I prefer to wear non-black then. I prefer brighter and lighter colours.” (that summer, I usually wore white, beige, or pink in day time).
“You’re too visible.”
“I know. But that’s not connected to how I dress. I am because I am the only woman on stage. Please be aware of where you’re going with this, that may be sexist. I hope you’re not, so please be careful with what you say.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“I know. But that’s what you’re implying.”
“I want you to wear steel toe shoes.”
“I am actually the only one in the production who wears them, but I only wear them during load in/out, and during the show, the rest of the day I prefer wearing heels or sandals.”
“Just look at Dave there – who sat in front of us minding their business having a post show drink, doom-scrolling – dress more like Dave.”
“You mean, wear worn out no-more-black washed cargo pants and a black tshirt with sweat stains? I think my tennis skort and black tanktop look a lot better.”
“You’re too visible.”
“I know, but like I said, that’s because I am the only woman on stage. I could wear a burlap sack and still be too visible. It’s a sausage fest here.”
“Well, I wish you’d wear pants. I’d hold you in higher esteem if you did.“
“Don’t go there, you don’t want to. That’s sexist.”
“You’re making it difficult now, Laura. I want you to be less visible.”
“No, you’re aking it problematic by saying what you are saying.”
“You’re selling yourself too cheaply.”
“Say what?!?”

We spoke no more on the subject.

How a woman chooses to dress, can never, ever, ever, be a reason for the perceived value of that woman to be lowered.

That same festival summer, John made some comments that were deeply disturbing in a conversation (or actually, it was a monologue, I don’t recall responding at any point, otherthan with body language) with me.
Premise: John preferred to only be near stage for the show itself; had other better things to do and probably a bunch of “been there, done that”. That afternoon, one of the bands that played earlier had dancers with them that were scantily clad as part of the band’s stage choreography; think Halloween style sexy devil & angel. These two dancers had been walking around the backstage area wearing similar outfits; as is wholly their right and prerogative to do.
With this band, my guitar world was set up on stage right, and I had been there almost all day; working on re-stringing guitars, cleaning them, and generally trying to not be backstage except when for catering, and just slowly prepare for the show, in my own bubble, and sort of looking at the bands that played before us. I actually rushed on stage to help one band with their backdrop taking off all of a sudden, about to bother the drummer.
The band with the dancers had their quick change set up on stage right as well, directly behind me. Early on during their show, for the first time in over a decade, John walks up to guitar world, and just stands there next to me, looking at the band and their dancers. And after a while says the following to me:

“I’d want dancers like that as well on our shows, but you know how some in the band think about that.“
“….” (I did not reply, I just looked at John, rolled my eyes, gave John side eye, and turned back to cleaning the guitar).

We spoke no more on the subject.

Several weeks later, we ended working together; It was a mutual decision, but each party’s arguments for ending it were wildly different. What I described here was why I quit working with this band.

1. : I look to Jacinda Ardern for inspiration for her vowing to never say the name of the Christchurch terrorist: “I implore you, speak the names of those who were lost rather than the name of the man who took them. He is a terrorist. He is a criminal. He is an extremist. But he will, when I speak, be nameless.”