another adventure

I added another adventure to My Adventures in Femulation. It is titled at work en femme.

big night out

Saturday night is my support group's annual banquet. All the girls will be dressed to kill including your truly, but I am having second thoughts on how to dress.

Originally, I planned to wear the blue cocktail dress I wore to the Avon representative Christmas party, but now I am thinking about wearing something I have not worn before (I have a couple of options in that regard).

After I do my hair, makeup, and put on my undies tomorrow afternoon, I will try on my various outfit options, see how they look, and decide then which one I will wear.

And after my big night out, I promise to make a full report here accompanied by lots of photos .

Femulate This: photo

As you may or may not know, every day I post a new Femulate This: photo, i.e., the photo in the right frame of this blog. But I so like the current photo that I will let it be for another day (or two).

Isn't that a woman's prerogative?

crossdressing at work

I spotted someone crossdressing at work yesterday!

A 20-something blonde, who works in Human Resources was crossdressed as a male. She wore a man's shirt (one like the field engineers here wear with the company logo on the breast pocket), black Docker's trousers, and black shoes (flats that looked like the black walkers I own). Her shirt and trousers were big and hid her feminine figure. She wore no makeup and had her shoulder-length hair pulled back so that her ears were completely revealed.

The first time I saw her, I thought it was a new male employee or a male employee visiting from another branch of our company. Only when she spoke did I recognize her.

Today, she is back in girl mode.

It must be nice to have the option to dress as a boy one day and to dress as a girl the next day!

"Mrs. Cunberg"

I found an interesting item on eBay this morning: a photo of a crossdressed man. Although it is a nice colorized photo, it is the accompanying description that I found interesting.

Here is the description unedited:

"THIS IS ACTUALLY MY GRANDFATHER,HE WAS SO GOOD AT DRESSING LIKE A WOMAN THAT WHEN HE TOOK MY FATHER TO SCHOOL ALL HIS CLASSMATES WOULD GREET HIM AS MRS,CUNBERG,IM SHOCKED TO FIND PICTURE AS IT WAS HIDDEN VERY WELL IN ATTIC,MY FATHER WAS NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT BUT SAID HE WAS A WONDERFULL MAN,"

crossdressing event of the year

The local crossdressing event of the year, my support group's annual banquet, will be held this Saturday evening. In the recent past, we have had 60-70 crossdressers, friends, and supporters in attendance, dressed to kill in evening gowns and cocktail dresses. The evening usually begins with a cocktail hour, followed by a sit-down dinner, an after-dinner speaker, an awards ceremony, live entertainment, and dancing with a DJ spinning the CDs.

I have performed a few times in the past and will lipsync one song this year. I have been practicing for weeks and look forward to my performance.

I happened to catch The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert last night. It was the first time I had seen that film from beginning to end and I got a couple of ideas from the lipsyncing performances in the film to add to my act on Saturday.

My outfit is all picked out and ready to wear: the blue cocktail dress I wore to the Avon representative Christmas party. I am 99% sure that no one who attended the Christmas party (besides me) will be attending my support group's banquet, so my outfit will be brand new to all onlookers.

I do plan to wear more comfortable shoes. The pair I wore to the Christmas party were not very comfortable and if I wear them Saturday, I will be hobbled by the time I am supposed to perform my lipsync act. So, I will wear an old pair of black strappy 4-inch high heel pumps that are oh-so-comfortable. The are sexy looking shoes that I will glam up with rhinestone clip-ons.

The only thing I have to get are some false eyelashes and some glam eyeshadow (just clipped a Max Factor 2-for-1 coupon from today's newspaper - good timing).

I think I will really enjoy this year's banquet. I was chairlady for the past three banquets and it was a real job running the affair. This year, someone else is chairlady, so I will be able to relax, have fun, and enjoy the whole evening!

Oh, my God, you're beautiful!

Yesterday, I attended a day long conference for school-aged GLBT youth that was held at a local university. My support group had a table at the conference to distribute literature and to interact with the attendees. I volunteered to man the booth from 9AM to 4 PM, which meant getting up at 5 AM to get dressed and drive to the university before the conference actually began.

I wore my new wig, black knot front dress, and mid-heel pumps. I thought I looked rather lovely and felt wonderful especially since according to the morning weigh-in, I was down to my "playing weight." I drove to the university and arrived at our table at 8:50 AM. I set up the table and had everything up and running as the on-rush of people began.

I met some old friends from the T-world. There were others in attendance, but I missed them.

This was a potentially tough crowd: mostly high-school aged kids. There were also adults: teachers, guidance counselors, social workers, etc. The adults were very respectful. Many that passed our table without stopping smiled and some said "Hello." Those that visited our table were pleasant and interacted with me without any issues. Some even complimented me.

The teenagers acted in a similar manner while I manned the table, but when I walked around, I attracted more attention. I assume that while I was seated, the teenagers took me as just another middle-aged woman manning a table, but when I stood up and walked around, my six-foot two-inch stature alerted some that I was not what I seemed to be while I was seated. Nobody did anything disrespectful (after all, this was a GLBT crowd), but I could not help noticing the extra attention.

I could try and convince myself that I am just so ravishing beautiful that people dropped everything to watch me pass by, but who would I be kidding. I was dressed more over the top than the average woman in attendance. Most of the women wore slacks, trousers, or jeans. There was only a handful in skirts or dresses. So maybe my outfit was what attracted some of the attention.

I had a long talk with a 28-year-old bi-woman, who was trying to convince me that I could wear women's slacks and still crossdress. I don't know if she was hinting that I might blend in better wearing slacks or whether she was just discussing women's fashions. She could not understand why I had no interest in crossdressing in women's slacks (my point being that I might as well dress in boy mode if I wear slacks). She also hinted that I was wearing too much jewelry.

At the table next to me were two 20-something women; recent college graduated named Jeanette and Jen, who were asking folks to sign a petition advocating the separation of church and state. They were very friendly and we talked a lot during lulls in the crowd. Jeanette had some questions about crossdressing and I gave her a mini-education, while telling her my life story. She was very sympathetic. They were sad when they learned that I would not be working our table on Saturday.

I had lunch with D and J, two girls from my support group, and Namoli Brennet, a Tucson-based trans/genderqueer songwriter, who has been touring the country since 2002 when she released her first CD, Boy in a Dress. It was the first time I ever rubbed elbows with a rock star.

Namoli performed at the conference and also conducted a workshop. She is a very nice person in person!

Funny thing is that I am familiar with the song Boy in a Dress (I have it on my iPod), but I did not connect the song with her, the person with whom I was breaking bread.

I received a lot of compliments today, which just made the day so much nicer. Two were very memorable: One middle aged woman, who I thought was one of the best looking attendees I saw all day, came by our table, smiled and said I looked very nice, I blushed. Later, a couple of high school girls came by our table and when I spoke (using my boy voice), they both were startled and looked up from the literature on our table. One of them then said, "Oh, my God, you're beautiful!" You be the judge: see the photo accompanying this posting.

in her maidenform

Click here to see larger version.

women resembling trans-sisters

Look at this photo of Britney Spears that accompanied an online new story about her checking out of rehab.

Doesn't she look like a male-to-female crossdresser? Maybe it is the wig or the low-key makeup or the suit, but whatever… she looks like a trans-sister to me. Which got me thinking about other women who look like trans-sisters.

I have nothing against women, who look like trans-sisters. They help us real trans-sisters to blend in society. They obfuscate the line between males and females, which makes it easier for real trans-sisters to pass.

Consider this list of tall females of notoriety:

5 ft 8 in: Ellen DeGeneres, Shelley Duvall, Jane Fonda, Anne Hathaway, Paris Hilton, Whitney Houston, Angelina Jolie, Milla Jovovich, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Diane Keaton, Anna Kournikova, Debra Messing and Meg Ryan

5 ft 9 in: Lauren Bacall, Jennifer Beals, Annette Bening, Candice Bergen, Mariah Carey, Lynda Carter, Cher. Chelsea Clinton, Hillary Clinton, Joan Cusack, Cameron Diaz, Jennifer Garner, Lauren Graham, Katie Holmes, Jane Kaczmarek, Julia Roberts, and Martha Stewart

5 ft 10 in: Joan Allen, Marian Anderson, Bea Arthur, Jules Asner, Tyra Banks, Elizabeth Berkley, Sandra Bernhard, Naomi Campbell, Kim Cattrall, Ciara, Cindy Crawford, Marcia Cross, Laura Dern, Diana, Princess of Wales, Minnie Driver, Jenna Elfman, Linda Evangelista, Angie Everhart, Louise Fletcher, Daisy Fuentes, Daryl Hannah, Anjelica Huston, Jackie Joyner-Kersee, Heidi Klum, Lisa Kudrow, Christine Lahti, Queen Latifah, Courtney Love, Mandy Moore, Sandra Day O’Connor, Gwyneth Paltrow, Katey Sagal, Carly Simon, Leelee Sobieski, Mira Sorvino, Charlize Theron, Christy Turlington, Kathleen Turner, Shannon Tweed, Liv Tyler, Sean Young, and Serena Williams

5 ft 11 in: Susan Anton, Grace Jones, Nicole Kidman, Lucy Lawless, Julie Newmar, Cynthia Nixon, Queen Noor, Vanessa Redgrave, Rebecca Romijn, Claudia Schiffer, and Anna Nicole Smith

6 ft: Ann Coulter, Geena Davis, Macy Gray, Jerry Hall, Mariel Hemingway, Famke Janssen, Elle MacPherson, Eleanor Roosevelt, Brooke Shields, Uma Thurman, and Sigourney Weaver

6 ft 1 in: Brigitte Nielsen and Venus Williams

6 ft 2 in: Julia Child and Staci Hunter

6 ft 3 in: Lindsay Davenport and Janet Reno

6 ft 4 in: Rebecca Lobo

Yes, a lot of these women are drop-dead gorgeous and would never be mistaken for trans-sisters, but there are a few who might.

Take 6-foot-tall actress Famke Janssen, for example. She played a man (a pre-op and later post-op transsexual) in the television series Nip/Tuck and was mistaken as a transvestite in the film Celebrity. Personally, I would never confuse her as a trans-sister, but evidently someone thought that her persona was such that they cast her in those trans-sister roles. Similarly, Rebecca Romijn plays a post-op transsexual on the television series Ugly Betty. I dunno, but maybe in Hollywood, just being tall qualifies you to act as a trans-sister.

By the way, I have a pet peeve with Hollywood regarding the casting of trans-sisters on film and television. I hate it when a female is cast as a trans-sister. I think a male playing a trans-sister would be more realistic and lend credibility to the role.

walk like a woman

No matter how gorgeous you look, if you walk like a man, you will give yourself away.

When I first started going out en femme, I looked ok for a novice because I had been experimenting with clothing and makeup for a long time, but I had never been out of the house (except for Halloween). As a result, I walked like a man because there was no need to do otherwise dressing in the confines of my home.

My girlfriends admonished me, so I began to make a conscious effort to walk like a woman. After years of practice, it has become a second nature. When I am en femme, I find myself walking like a woman without making a conscious effort to do so. It is part of putting on my game face when I get dressed, i.e., a part of switching into girl mode.

So, how does one learn to walk like a woman? Instead of taking the time to explain how, I direct you to the following links that explain how:

• How to Walk Like a Diva
• How to Walk Like a Catwalk Model
• How to Walk in High Heels

the elephant in the room

A lot of my relatives are aware that I crossdress. I won't explain how they know, but I assure you that they know. (Also, some of them don't know that I know that they know.)

When I visit my relatives who are in the know, I feel like I am the elephant in the room because no one will say anything to me about my crossdressing, although I know that they speak about it behind my back.

I think I should dress en femme this upcoming Easter Sunday. I'm thinking of a real girly pastel dress with matching purse and heels, etc., etc. Then go visit my relatives.

I wonder if they would mention my crossdressing then?

my adventures in femulation

I have added a new link where you can read my past adventures in femulation. Some of my adventures come from my old blogs and old web pages, while some have never been published before.

I hope you will enjoy them and maybe they will inspire you to have your own adventures in femulation.

a no go

Yesterday, I woke up tired and felt out of sorts most of the day. The cold rainy weather did not help my condition, so I decided not to go out en femme last night.

my own roller coaster ride

I received the following e-mail today:

Do you have an opinion on going to therapy as a way of resolving CD/TG issues? I sometimes think there should be a conclusion to my feelings and frustrations. You seem to have reached a steady state, which I haven't reached. I can't see a happy medium.

Here is my response:

My life is a roller coaster ride as it relates to my transgenderism. Some days, I want to chuck it all, throw out my girl wardrobe and swear off crossdressing for the rest of my life. Other days, I want to pack up the car with my girl wardrobe, runaway from home, and live full-time as a woman in some other part of the country. Most days, I am somewhere in between.

Now that I am older and wiser, I know the first option is a big mistake because in the past, I have purged and sworn off crossdressing, but sooner or later, I come back crossdressing more passionately than ever. So, when those purging thoughts come my way, I ignore them because I know they will go away sooner or later.

In fact, I woke up this morning in a purging/swearing-off frame of mind. Then I start reading my e-mail and find an e-mail from Newport-News in my in-box. It is for a spring clearance sale. I go to the Newport-News web site to see what is on sale and I see a suit that I have had my eye on at one-third off the list price. Next thing you know, I'm ordering the suit and purging is the farthest thing from my mind.

My roller coaster ride has a lot to do with my wife. She is not very supportive and to keep the peace, I don't crossdress as much as I would like. I think if she were supportive, my life might be more like a Sunday ride in the park instead of a roller coaster ride.

I cannot give you my opinion on whether therapy would help or not because I have never been in therapy. I seem to be in the minority because most T-people I know have been in therapy for their T-issues. Some claim that therapy has helped. Your mileage may vary.

You wrote that I "seem to have reached a steady state." I think it appears that I have reached a steady state because I have resigned myself to my situation and try to emphasize the positives, rather than the negatives to make my ride as comfortable as possible.

found something to wear

Last night, I looked in my closet to find something to wear en femme when I go out Thursday night.

I found my black knot front dress that I wore only once before. It should be very suitable for a cocktail party. And I am sure I have a pair of black high heel pumps to go with the dress.

don't have a thing to wear

I plan to go out en femme Thursday night and I don't have a thing to wear!

out soon

I have not been out en femme for about a month and I am itching to get out. If all goes well, I will go to a cocktail hour after work on Thursday.

The cocktail hour* is a monthly event at a local art center. Being an art center, the place attracts a very liberal and diverse crowd.

A couple of my T-friends broke ground and attended the cocktail hour a few years ago. They had a great time, were accepted without reservation, and recommended the place to the rest of us.

Since then, I've gone there a half dozen times and usually find ten to twelve of my T-friends there amongst the crowd. I try to mix in with the crowd, but have had limited success and usually end up socializing with my T-friends (not that there is anything wrong with that) instead of making new non-T-friends

I don't know if I scare people off or what. I am not exactly ugly. In fact, I think I am very presentable. On the other hand, I am shy. Maybe if I try to be more outgoing I will be able to make some new friends.

I'll let you know what happens.

* It is an "hour" in name only and usually lasts from 6 to 10 PM, more or less.

The Queen

Helen Mirren has been winning awards right and left this year for her portrayal of Queen Elizabeth II in the film titled The Queen. Every time I encounter that film title, I recall another film with the very same title.

I read the Village Voice in the late 1960s, for its politics, music and film reviews, writers, and its occasional (very occasional) references to something related to crossdressing, transvestism, etc. I was in my late teens and desperate for information about crossdressing and transvestism and the only straight media to ever broach those subjects were the Voice and Rolling Stone.

One day back in 1968, I was reading the Voice and came across a display ad for a new film titled The Queen. Whoa! The ad showed a guy in various stages of applying makeup to become a girl. I had never seen anything like this before! I knew that The Queen would never be shown locally, probably nowhere in the whole state or even in all of New England. If I wanted to see it, I would have to take the train to New York City and see it there.

But what would people think of me entering or exiting the movie theatre where The Queen was playing? Would that news leak back to my hometown and cause me to be ostracized me as a teen queen? So, I decided that it would be safer if I did not go to The City to see The Queen.

Years later, The Queen was released on videotape. I purchased a copy and watched it on my TV. It was not a great film, but I wonder how that film would have affected me if I had seen it back when I was 17?

t-ad

While I was cleaning house, I found a magazine clipping that I saved. There is no date on it, but I would guess it is over ten years old.

I saved it because the women in the ad look like classy crossdressers (just like me).

if Hitler was transgendered

I am transgendered and believe that transgendered people should have the same rights and be treated equally as non- transgendered people.

That being said, if you knew of an evil transgendered person, who is in a position to harm other people, how would you feel about using that person's transgenderism against him/her in order to prevent him/her from causing that harm?

For example, if Hitler were transgendered, how would you feel about criticizing and ridiculing Hitler because of his transgenderism even though you are hurting yourself and the cause of other transgendered people? Would the greater good of preventing a Hitler be worth sacrificing the transgendered cause?

passing my age

She's got legs; she knows how to use them.*

Personally, I think that my legs are ok, but other people have convinced me that they are more so. My mother often said I had beautiful legs (and that "you should have been a girl with legs like yours"). My wife and other genetic women have admitted that I have nicer legs then they do. Members of my support group have complimented me
on my legs, too.

I am tall, so my legs are long; maybe their length causes an optical illusion making them look better than they really are. I don't know, but I am not going to argue with success. If other people are happy with my legs, then I am happy with them, too.

So, I ask myself, "Since my legs are such a great asset, why not show them off?" I usually respond by wearing skirts and dresses with short hemlines (sometimes scandalously short hemlines) and high heels that are 2, 3, or 4 inches high.

When I add 4-inch heels to my 5-foot, 14-inch stature, I standout in a crowd topping out at an Amazonian 6 and 1/2 feet! So, when I am out in that crowd, some people may think I am an Amazon; other people may think I am a man in drag.

One rule of thumb for passing is that you should dress your age, i.e., if you are an XX-year-old crossdresser, you should dress like an XX-year-old genetic woman. At my age (XX equals 40-something-plus) that means long skirts and lower heels or worse. By "worse" I am referring to the fact that these days genetic women dress like genetic men! Trousers and slacks, not skirts and dresses, is the norm especially among women my age.

I remember dining recently with four other T-girls at City Steam in downtown Hartford. The place was full of 20 and 30-somethings, men and women alike. Do you know how many people I saw in the restaurant wearing a skirt or a dress? Two: one of the T-girls I was dining with and me! I did not see one genetic woman in a skirt or dress. The temperature was hovering around 0 degrees that evening, so that had something to do with the dearth of hemlines among the distaff side of the crowd. Yet, you would think that there would be a few skirts around the knees of some genetic women, but there were none.

If I wanted to pass that night, I should have worn slacks, not the short black skirt that I did wear. And if I really wanted to pass that night, I should have worn flats instead of high-heeled boots, socks instead of pantyhose, a plaid shirt instead of an animal-print top, boxers instead of a panty girdle, a t-shirt instead of a bra. Also, I should have nixed the make up and left my pocketbook, wig, and jewelry at home. Then, I would have passed easily, but as a man.

In my opinion, passing is overrated. If I have to make a choice between dressing to pass or dressing to thrill, I will choose dressing to thrill every time. Sometimes, I dress to pass, but that is no fun. For starters, when I dress to pass, I usually am not very happy with the clothing I wear. To make matters worse, when I dress to pass, I constantly worry about passing. I cannot enjoy myself out en femme. It is a real drag!

On the other hand, when I dress to thrill, I am very happy with the way I look and I can be myself because I do not worry about passing. What is interesting is that sometimes when I am dressed to thrill, I pass!

Here is my favorite passing-when-I-wasn't-trying story.

Years ago, I did office girl drag for Halloween at work. I ran my pantyhose early in the day, so during lunch, I went to CVS to buy another pair. I did not want to cause a commotion, so when I entered the store, I went straight to the first employee I saw and explained my predicament, i.e., I had run my pantyhose and needed another pair for my Halloween costume. The woman I spoke to responded with, "The pantyhose are in the last aisle, ma'am." And so it goes.

So when I go out en femme, I am likely to dress to thrill and show off my legs rather than dress to pass. If I do pass, then that is just an extra thrill.

* You all probably recognize that line from ZZ Top's hit recording "Legs." I wonder if you remember a brief T-moment in the video for that song. In that video, leggy girls, who are dressed over-the-top, are shopping in a boutique outfitting another girl who is more conservatively dressed. The T-moment occurs when one of the leggy girls grabs a dress from a guy who is holding the garment up to himself to see how he looks in it.

her history

hobby – An activity or interest pursued outside one's regular occupation and engaged in primarily for pleasure. (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Third Edition, 1992)

I encountered female impersonation for the first time when I was 11 or 12 years old. That "encounter" was a newspaper advertisement for the 82 Club, a New York City nightclub that featured female impersonators. The advertisement asked, "Who's No Lady?" and contained a photo of a beautiful female impersonator.

The advertisement fascinated me. I was intrigued that a male could transform himself into a gorgeous female. Every week, I anxiously awaited the appearance of a new 82 Club advertisement and I was seldom disappointed as male after male was shown transformed into a beautiful female.

I was so intrigued that I began experimenting with female impersonation myself. Using my mother's and sister's wardrobes and cosmetics, I tried to transform myself into a young lady. I enjoyed every minute of it, but I started feeling very guilty. None of the guys I knew did what I did. I wondered if something was wrong with me.

I tried researching the subject, but all I could find were some foreboding references to "transvestism" in the encyclopedia. I also had a pretty good idea that Mom and Sis would not be happy about me using their stuff. But, I loved it too much to give it up, so I closeted my female impersonation, only to come out occasionally on Halloween.

I guess all my practice in the closet helped me become adept at female impersonation because more than once, when I attended Halloween gatherings, other attendees asked about me, "Who's the woman not wearing a costume?" If you can pass on Halloween, you can pass anytime and anywhere!

I thought about going to New York and becoming a professional female impersonator, but what would "they" think, so I went back in the closet and everyone was happy with me... except me.

I grew older and wiser and realized that I should have followed my dreams, but by then, I had commitments that would not permit me to run away from home and join the circus, so I had to be satisfied with female impersonation as a hobby rather than a vocation.

Although I am much older and a little wiser now, I still do not know why I enjoy female impersonation. I have read lots of articles that try to explain why we do what we do, but as far as I am concerned, none of the explanations ring true. Whenever I try to shoehorn myself into one of those explanations, I always conclude, "That's not me."

I love the ritual of transforming myself from male to female (and I loathe the reverse transformation). I am fascinated by the art of applying makeup. I love wearing dresses and heels and nylons and lingerie. I enjoy trying to speak, act and move like a lady.

If there is more to it, I really don't care. At this stage in my life, I have decided to play with the cards I have been dealt (and not try to figure out why I have been dealt four queens and a joker). I am going to enjoy myself and stop worrying why I am having fun.

wouldn't it be nice!

My girl wardrobe hangs right next to my boy wardrobe in my closet. Below, shoe boxes containing high heel pumps, sandals, and slingbacks are stacked next to my boy shoe collection. My makeup kit sits on the floor between the shoe boxes and the box storing my earrings, necklaces, bracelets, girly watches and rings. Next is a box containing my lingerie, and pantyhose. And next to that is a box containing my purses and pocketbooks. My wigs are in another box on a nearby shelf.

After I shower and shave and begin dressing for work, I am often tempted to don my lingerie, a pretty blouse, a knee length skirt, nude pantyhose, and a pair of pumps instead of my usual men's wear. And put on my makeup, wig, and jewelry, then grab my purse and go to work.

Wouldn't it be nice!