Fear of a Bedlah Planet, Part I

Oh, if I thought my last discussion on this was going to get me in trouble...sigh. I read this article from the excellent Girls Read Comics site, all about a costume worn at a Sci-Fi Con. The Con itself is what's called "safe space", a feminist-oriented con. It's what happened when the costume was worn in front of people unaware of it's nature, people from outside the community, that trigged this article:

They didn't say anything foul, they certainly didn't touch me, and it wasn't even close to harassment by the standards of our society. So why was I shaky and scared and angry afterwards?
Two things:
1) At the costume ball, my clothing -- fishnets, black leotard, blonde wig -- was coded "superhero". In the elevator, it was coded "stripper".
2) Everyone is conditioned to assess women primarily by how sexually attractive and/or available they appear to be. Making that assessment clear is normal. Vocalizing that assessment is normal. Blaming women for others harassing or abusing them based on how attractive they are or what they were wearing at the time is normal.

This is everyday life for many "belly" dancers. And doubly so for artists wearing bedlah, esp. the bra and belt version that's most famous in America today:

The first thought when a mainstream person sees that costume? It's not "wow, lovely", it's not "what gorgeous fabric", and it's not exactly "that bra fits her well". It's about how much skin is shown, and how transgressive the clothing is. And that transgression is all-too-often not about skill, but about the appearance of sexual availability, even aggression, on the part of the person wearing it.
No matter how skilled you are. No matter how well-spoken you are. And, all too often, no matter how chaste you are, and act. Dancers in bedlah are like African-Americans, judged first and foremost on surface impressions, and having to struggle for recognition for their skills and wisdom.

Worse, my fear is that we, in the dance community, hide from this reaction. I rarely hear talk about bedlah, and what the reaction might be. But, we do talk often about wearing "cover-ups", and not wearing bedlah anywhere but on-stage. And yet...am I just missing that conversation, because I'm a guy? Or is it just that we, as a dance community, don't want to talk about the transgression of bedlah?
Either way, there's a fight about how people react to bedlah. There's a truth that needs to come out, and needs to be addressed. This is the truth of how it should be seen, and the truth I wish to fight for:

I wore that costume because Black Canary is badass, and the Birds of Prey are heroes. I wanted to join a group of strong women, who, like the Birds, are striving to change their world for the better. It's sad that I would never wear that costume outside of WisCon -- not at any other geek con, and certainly not on the street. I'm already female in public; being a scantily-dressed woman in public compounds my crimes and my punishment.

The security I experienced at WisCon, bar those thirty seconds in an elevator, should be a universal privilege. That's how the world should be.

How can we make it so?

And the sad answer is, I don't have an easy clue. But I'll talk about solutions tomorrow...