Monday, Monday, Monday

Zooming Again Dept.

Wednesday evening, I was the guest speaker at the CDI weekly Zoom meeting. CDI (Cross Dressers International) is a Manhattan-based organization that has members throughout the Tri-State Area and beyond. 

There were 23 participants, the most they have ever had at their weekly get-togethers. I had a great time telling my story and fielding questions from the folks in attendance. 

CDI is a very cool organization; check out their website and see what I mean.

Sports Dept.

I am tired of all the malarkey surrounding the “controversy” over transgirls competing with cisgender girls in scholastic sports. 

A Daily KOS article, “Trans women in sports and the myth of ‘male puberty’” refutes all the malarkey. I recommend reading it and saving it as ammunition against the next transphobic cretin you encounter spouting these lies. 

Anti-Sports Dept.

Femulation Beats Super Bowl 10 – 0 !

By Velma

(This is a re-write of a Femulation adventure from almost two years ago – February 2019 – pre pandemic.)

Sunday was the first warm and dry Sunday in weeks, and a round of Femulation was definitely the order of the day. Never mind that this Sunday was also Super Bowl day. At least the shopping traffic was minimal.

Back at Christmas, I had treated myself to a new LBD with belled sleeves purchased from Cato ladies clothiers (Cato.com) and this day was warm enough to dress in this dress and show some leg. I had also acquired a great new blonde wig at a consignment store for the huge price of $5. I paired the dress with matching gold and black chain and earrings, as well as black open-toed strap pumps.

My second stop shopping was at the west side Value Village thrift store for more shopping. I was met with a considerable surprise. At the check-out line stood a former co-worker; a lady Teamster truck driver,  Wynne, was at the checkout line at the front of the store. The thing is Wynne is totally fun crazy, the kind of co-worker who was a ball to work with.

I had only seen her once since retiring 10 years ago and that last encounter was about 6 weeks ago, when my wife and I (I was not en femme at this time) were shopping at the same Value Village. At that chance meeting with Wynne, I had decided to invite her to lunch; arrive en femme and out myself at some time in the future. It would be first time I revealed my secret to any of my former coworkers.

With that plan totally trashed, I decided to simply walk by and see if she could recognize the new me. 

I walked about two feet from her, where my face was clearly in her line of sight.  Nothing happened-- no response.

I then circled back around for another pass and did same. Still nothing – she nary batted an eye.

I then turned around and stood in the checkout line behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

Wynne turned and saw me as I said, “Hi, Wynne.” 

My distinctive male voice gave me away.

“Well,  whatta ya think?” I asked.

“Frank?” (not my real name)

Wynne let out a loud exclamatory “Damn!”

“Look at you! You look so good! Your makeup! It’s perfect! You do makeup better than me and your outfit, it’s perfect! You even have matching girl glasses!”

I explained that the glasses were prescription.

“If you had not said anything, I would not have recognized you.”

“I'll bet you didn’t think I had 'it in me? Huh?”

I commented that there was no way I could femulate while working with our fellow rough and tough Teamsters. But now that I was retired…

Wynne commented that you might as well make yourself happy, especially if you don’t have to dodge our old bosses.

By that time, others were in the check-out line behind us, so we waved them on around and talked for about half an hour. Interesting point, was that the customers we waved around us, paid us no attention.

Every once in a while during the conversation, she would let out a “Damn! I can’t get over how good you look.”

At one point in the conversation, she asked about how I held things together. I explained that I was wearing a longline bra, silicone breast falsies and a padded derriere panty. I invited her to check ‘em out. Apparently impressed, she let out another “Damn!”

We said our goodbyes, gave each other a hug, made promises for plans for perhaps a future girl lunch.

The End

Wearing Unique Vintage

Stan Munro, professional femulator, circa 1965