Why I am girly

I easily fill a B cup and enjoy wearing a bra without padding or falsies. I always assumed that my ladylike breasts were due to Gynecomastia and/or too many female hormones. Let me explain.

My mother had a miscarriage before she had me. Back then, physicians prescribed Diethylstilbestrol (DES) to prevent future miscarriages.

Did my mother take DES? She is deceased, so I will never know. But, if she did take DES, then that may explain why I am the way I am.

DES can cause feminization of the male fetus and some studies suggest that otherwise-male children exposed to DES before birth may be more likely to be transsexual women than otherwise-male children who have not been exposed.

Although I will never know if my mother took DES, there are other indications that she did. For example, I have Gynecomastia and although the causes of common Gynecomastia remain uncertain, it has generally been attributed to an imbalance of sex hormones, that is, too much estrogen.

In addition to Gynecomastia, I am more womanly than the average guy in other ways. For example, my mannerisms and speech patterns have feminine traits and my thoughts and emotions are more feminine than masculine.

A few years ago, I was doing outreach with three transsexuals at a local college and a student asked how the transsexuals' hormone regimen affected them. All three transsexuals admitted that they became more emotional after they began their hormone regimen, for example, one stated that she never cried at movies before taking hormones, but after taking hormones, she cried at movies all the time. I spoke up that I never took hormones and that I cry at movies all the time!

An overabundance of female hormones may be the cause of my proclivity for the feminine. And my parents may have nurtured that proclivity.

Dad was absent in my early life working two jobs to support his wife and kids. Mom cherished her firstborn child (me), coddled and pampered me and instilled in me many traits that were considered “feminine.” With Dad absent early-on, Mom was all I had to model myself after and that I did, which just compounded my feminization."

I had two strikes against me (too many female hormones and too little male role modeling) and when my third opportunity to swing came, I just stood there with the bat on my shoulder and was called out (of the male gender) on a called third strike.

I did not bother swinging because I liked myself. I was very satisfied with the results of the first two strikes. I liked the way things were turning out. I did not mind being a girly boy.

Except for some abuse from bullies and rejection by their female followers, being a girly boy was a pretty good deal. I could partake in whatever boy or girl pursuits interested me and not have to worry about tarnishing my image.

And when I took up the male pursuit of female impersonation, I found that I excelled at it because I already spoke and acted like a lady, took to the art of cosmetics like a swan takes to water and could fill a bra without any padding.

And so it goes.

Wearing Venus

Femulating in the 1920’s

Superficially Yours

In her post on Friday, Hannah McKnight wrote, “I would love to hear something you love about yourself, something that you love about who you are. I want to hear your shallowest, most superficial thoughts.”

Naturally, I could not resist such an invitation and I submitted the following as a comment to Hannah’s post.

I love carrying a designer handbag. Any thoughts about me being a guy are swept away by a bag hanging from my limp wrist.

Don’t know if I have Gynecomastia or not, but I do know that I have breasts that are large enough to fill a size 42B bra without inserts, pads or any other assistance. And when I slip on my bra, I love finding those two perky mounds on my chest (it never gets old).

Mom had shapely legs. When she worked in an office before she married, her nickname was “Legs.” Like mother, like daughter, I inherited my mother legs and a transman once dubbed me “Leggy.” I love being my mother’s daughter.

Of course, “Legs” loved high heels, always wore them when she went out and she owned a closet full. Again like mother, like daughter, I love high heels, always wear them when I go out and I own a closet full (over 100 pairs).

I love being a feminine man. When I am en homme, it can be a hindrance, but it works so well for me when I am en femme that I would not have it any other way.

Making up my face is something I always look forward to. I love the process, the tricks, the shortcuts and especially the results. After I do my makeup, slip on my wig and look in the mirror, it is always an aha moment! (Yes, I am a woman.)

Wearing Rene Ruiz

The always lovely Hannah McKnight

A B C D

My Father's Day self-gift

I have “boobs.” 

It is likely that gynecomastia is the cause, but I never sought medical advice because as a femulator, I am happy with my breasts. Why mess with success?

Over 20 years ago, I had a bra-fitting and it turned out that I had B cup breasts. But during the past six months, I noticed that my breasts seemed to be getting bigger. So I used a tape measure and an online bra size calculator to determine the current size. The results were surprising: I now have D cups!

The change is not due to weight gain. I weigh almost 30 pounds less than what I weighed when I had B cups measured. 

My D cups are probably due to the decrease in testosterone that most 70-year-old girls like me experience. I wonder what other feminine characteristics await me!

Wearing Unique Vintage

Michelle takes home a “find” from the California Historical Radio Society open house.

Go Figure

This presentation moved one of my
friends to ask if I was on hormones!

I mentioned in my previous post that I lacked a female derriere. And I gave up trying to do something about it because the results were not satisfactory and more trouble than they were worth. I will forgo the padding and femulate with the narrow waist and wider hips that my girdle and long-line bra assimilate.

Although I lack a female derriere, Goddess has blessed me with female breasts. I assume I have Gynecomastia, but I never sought out medical help for the “problem,” so I don't know for sure.

Personally, when it comes to Gynecomastia, it has been a cup half empty or cup half full scenario.

In my youth, the cup was half empty.

My peers abused me and bullied me because I was a feminine boy, which was bad enough. Revealing my breasts just gave my abusers more ammunition, so I avoided participating in any activities that involved going topless because when I went topless, it did not always go well.

For example, I will never forget a game of touch football at a family picnic. I was unlucky enough to be on the skins team and my breasts were bouncing around during every play and became the object everybody’s attention (so it seemed). When one of my uncles made a crack that some of the players needed bras, I was so embarrassed that I had to hold back the tears.

However, as I got older and began to embrace my womanhood, I learned to appreciate my feminine body. When I wore a revealing blouse, I discovered the joys of Gynecomastia ― add some push-up bra inserts and a little makeup and my breasts rivaled many women’s breasts.

Today, I am proud of my breasts. They bring me joy because they so represent being a woman and I am proud that I am a woman. Even when I am in boy mode, I just have to touch my breasts to remind me that I am a woman and it brings a smile to my face.

So, as an adult, the cup is half full (actually, the cups are nearly full).

Wearing Ann Taylor

The girls give Shia LaBeouf a makeover in a 2000 episode of television’s Even Stevens.
You can view the episode on YouTube.

Why I am the way I am... maybe

After reading Nadine's recent post "Of Course I Want Boobs," I got to thinking about my own boobs and recalled what I wrote eight years ago. 

My mother had a miscarriage before she had me.

Back then, physicians prescribed Diethylstilbestrol (DES) to prevent miscarriages in women who had had previous miscarriages.

Did my mother take DES? She is deceased, so I will never know. But, if she did take DES, then that may explain why I am the way I am.

DES can cause feminization of the male fetus and some studies suggest that otherwise-male children exposed to DES before birth may be more likely to be transsexual women than male children who have not been exposed.

Although I will never know if my mother took DES, there are other indications that she did. For example, I have Gynecomastia and although the causes of Gynecomastia remain uncertain, it has generally been attributed to an imbalance of sex hormones, that is, too much estrogen.

In addition to Gynecomastia, I am more womanly than the average guy in other ways. For example, my mannerisms and speech patterns have feminine traits and my emotions are more feminine than masculine.

A few years ago, I was doing outreach with three transsexuals at a local college and a student asked how the transsexuals' hormone regimen affected them. All three transsexuals admitted that they became more emotional after they began their hormone regimen, for example, one stated that she never cried at movies before taking hormones, but after taking hormones, she cried at movies all the time. I spoke up that I never took hormones and that I cry at movies all the time!

An overabundance of female hormones may be the cause of my proclivity for the feminine. And my parents may have nurtured that proclivity.

Dad was absent in my early life working two jobs to support his wife and kids. Mom cherished her firstborn child (me), coddled and pampered me and instilled in me many traits that were considered "feminine." With Dad absent early-on, Mom was all I had to model myself after and that I did, which just compounded my feminization.

I had two strikes against me (too many female hormones and too little male role modeling) and when my third opportunity to swing came, I just stood there with the bat on my shoulder and was called out (of the male gender) on a called third strike.

I did not bother swinging because I liked myself. I was very satisfied with the results of the first two strikes. I liked the way things were turning out. I did not mind being a girly boy.

Except for some abuse from the bullies and rejection by their female followers, being a girly boy was a pretty good deal. I could partake in whatever boy or girl pursuits interested me and not have to worry about tarnishing my image.

And when I took up the male pursuit of female impersonation, I found that I excelled at it because I already spoke and acted like a lady, I took to the art of cosmetics like a swan takes to water, and I could fill a size 38B bra without any padding.

And so it goes.

Wearing BooHoo (Source: BooHoo)

Willi Besle, professional femulator in early 20th Century Germany

Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining

Have you noticed lately the ads on television for law firms willing to sue pharmaceutical companies whose drugs caused boys to have Gynecomastia? Personally, when it comes to Gynecomastia, it has been a cup half empty or cup half full scenario.

In my youth, the cup was half empty.

My peers abused me and bullied me because I was a feminine boy, which was bad enough. Revealing my breasts would just give my abusers more ammunition, so I avoided participating in any activities that involved going topless because when I did go topless, it did not always go well.

For example, I will never forget a game of touch football at a family picnic. I was unlucky enough to be on the skins team and my breasts were bouncing around during every play and became the object everybody's attention. When one of my uncles made a crack that some of the players needed bras, I was so embarrassed that I had to hold back the tears.

However, as I got older and began to embrace my womanhood, I learned to appreciate my feminine body. When I wore a revealing blouse, I discovered the joys of Gynecomastia ― add some push-up bra inserts and a little makeup and my breasts rivaled many women's breasts.

Today, I am proud of my breasts. They bring me joy because they so represent being a woman and I am proud that I am a woman. Even when I am in boy mode, I just have to touch my breasts to remind me that I am a woman and it brings a smile to my face.

So, as an adult, the cup is half full (actually, the cups are nearly full).

By the way, the photo above was taken after I got dressed to attend the Avon representative Christmas party in 2012. I missed last year's party because of a snowstorm, but the forecast is good for tonight, so I will be attending the 2014 installment of the Avon rep Christmas party this evening.

 

 

 

Wearing DailyLook.

 

 

 

Professional femulator Terry Durham, circa 1973.

Look what I found

I wanted a white top to go with my white shorts. Perusing the DressBarn website, I saw a crochet lace top that I liked, so during my lunch hour, I visited the nearby DressBarn to check out the top in person.

They had a rack full of the tops including a few in white and in my size (so I thought). After examining the top, I was happy with my choice and went to the cash register to get rung up.

The sales rep complimented me on my choice and as she began ringing me up, she asked, "What is the phone number of the person you are buying this for?"

The sales rep was one I had not dealt with before and since I was in boy mode, I assume she thought that I was buying the top for a regular customer (and by giving her the customer's phone number, the customer would get credit for the sale and rack up points).

I replied, "The top is for me."

And then I added, "Maybe I should try it on to see if it fits."

It looked big enough, but I've been burnt by that assumption before, so I headed to the dressing room. Good thing I did because it was too tight around my boobs.

The sales rep found the next size up and it fit fine. I paid for my purchase and was on my way.

Getting back to my boobs. I think they are getting bigger!

During the past six months or so, I thought that my boobs looked bigger when I looked at myself in the mirror, but I assumed it was just wishful thinking.

However, now that the warm weather has finally settled in around here, I often wear just a T-shirt without a blouse over the tee. As a result, I noticed that my boobs are filling out my tees more than they ever had in the past.

I have always had boobs (due to a hormone imbalance and/or Gynecomastia), but not to this extent.

If this keeps up, I will have to start wearing bras in both boy and girl modes --- not because I want to, but because I need to (not that there is anything wrong with that).

 

 

 

Wearing Madeleine.

 

 

 

U2’s Adam Clayton femulates for the 1992 music video for “One.”

Stuck with Lemons, Then Make Lemonade

Victoria wrote, “Your comments about gynecomastia have been very interesting.  I developed a rather extreme case as a kid. I've always wondered if that had some impact on my gender-orientation development.”

My response:

I feel there is a connection. This is just my opinion --- I am not a doctor, but I play a nurse on television.

Gynecomastia is “caused by an imbalance of the hormones estrogen and testosterone." (Source: Mayo Clinic)

The excessive estrogen may cause other "problems." So, if you have gynecomastia you may be inclined to be more feminine in other ways because extra estrogen is involved. In other words, gynecomastia is not the cause of the other gender issues, rather what causes gynecomastia may cause other gender issues.

That being said, they can feed off of each other. If you have gynecomastia and the extra estrogen is feminizing you in other ways, you might accept and embrace being feminine and thus, reinforce your femininity.

Does that make sense?

 

Actor Michael Callam (left) femulating on television’s Love American Style, 1971.

 

Wearing IRO.

Mechanics Femulated

Beth sent me the photo above which she took while vacationing in Burlington, Vermont, last week. The sign was in the window of a bicycle shop.

It is a little difficult to read because of the reflection on the window, so here is the information of interest:

	WTF!
	Women - Trans – Femme
	Bike Repair Nights
	Open bike shop for non-male identified folks interested in bike mechanics...

By the way, Burlington is a very diverse city, rated one of the best places to live and Beth noticed a few transwomen during her stay in the area.

The subject of bicycle mechanics is a perfect lead-in to today's “Ask Me Anything” question, which is on the topic of femulation mechanics.

Allison asked, "What do you use for breast forms and hip and rear padding, if anything?"
I don't use anything.

Topside, I am naturally endowed. A combination of too many female hormones and/or a touch of gynecomastia has "blessed" me with a pair of breasts that nearly fill a B-cup. I usually wear a padded bra from Victoria's to fill out the rest of the cup.

Below, I use no padding. I cinch my waist with some kind of foundation garment and my narrowed cinched waist creates the appearance of having hips and a feminine figure.

Viewing my photos, I see instances that adding hip and rear padding would improve my appearance, but it is not a deal-breaker, so I have not done anything about it.

By the way, my boobs were the source of a lot of abuse growing up. Combined with my natural feminine mannerisms, my life was hell at times. Luckily, it all worked out in my favor as I grew older and realized I was a woman.

 

A young man femulating circa 1900.

 

Wearing a “Charlie Brown dress” from La Redoute.

Do I need a bra?

I woke up this morning and noticed some minor muscle ache on the sides of my breasts. It was the first time I have ever experienced any aches in those parts of my body and it gave me pause.

Maybe it was due to the way I slept last night. (I wrestled for a comfortable spot between the dogs and cats all night long.)

Maybe it is another sign of old age and I need to wear a bra full-time to support my lady-like breasts. (Won't that be fun!)

why I am girly

My mother had a miscarriage before she had me.

Back then, physicians prescribed Diethylstilbestrol (DES) to prevent miscarriages in women who had had previous miscarriages.

Did my mother take DES? She is deceased, so I will never know. But, if she did take DES, then that may explain why I am the way I am.

DES can cause feminization of the male fetus and some studies suggest that otherwise-male children exposed to DES before birth may be more likely to be transsexual women than otherwise-male children who have not been exposed.

Although I will never know if my mother took DES, there are other indications that she did. For example, I have Gynecomastia and although the causes of common Gynecomastia remain uncertain, it has generally been attributed to an imbalance of sex hormones, that is, too much estrogen.

In addition to Gynecomastia, I am more womanly than the average guy in other ways. For example, my mannerisms and speech patterns have feminine traits and my emotions are more feminine than masculine.

A few years ago, I was doing outreach with three transsexuals at a local college and a student asked how the transsexuals' hormone regimen affected them. All three transsexuals admitted that they became more emotional after they began their hormone regimen, for example, one stated that she never cried at movies before taking hormones, but after taking hormones, she cried at movies all the time. I spoke up that I never took hormones and that I cry at movies all the time!

An overabundance of female hormones may be the cause of my proclivity for the feminine. And as I wrote here on Friday, my parents may have nurtured that proclivity.

Repeating what I wrote on Friday, "Dad was absent in my early life working two jobs to support his wife and kids. Mom cherished her firstborn child (me), coddled and pampered me, and instilled in me many traits that were considered 'feminine.' With Dad absent early-on, Mom was all I had to model myself after and that I did, which just compounded my feminization."

I had two strikes against me (too many female hormones and too little male role modeling) and when my third opportunity to swing came, I just stood there with the bat on my shoulder and was called out (of the male gender) on a called third strike.

I did not bother swinging because I liked myself. I was very satisfied with the results of the first two strikes. I liked the way things were turning out. I did not mind being a girly boy.

Except for some abuse from the macho boys and rejection by their female followers, being a girly boy was a pretty good deal. I could partake in whatever boy or girl pursuits interested me and not have to worry about tarnishing my image.

And when I took up the male pursuit of female impersonation, I found that I excelled at it because I already spoke and acted like a lady, I took to the art of cosmetics like a swan takes to water, and I could nearly fill a size 38B bra without any padding.

And so it goes.

(Wikipedia is the source for the medical information cited above.)

a boy and his boobs

Yesterday, I was listening to a podcast by Ethan St. Pierre's "The Radicalguy" in which he interviewed Mila Pavlin.

During the interview, the Mila mentioned that as a young pre-op transwoman, she was mortified whenever she had to remove her top to go swimming or participate in other activities in which males were expected to go shirtless because in her mind, she was female and going topless was not something females did in public. During such occurrences, she would try to cover up with a towel in order to feel less embarrassed.

When I was young, I experienced something similar whenever I was expected to be shirtless because I have boobs. I don't know if my breast development was the result of being overweight, hormone imbalance, Gynecomastia, or a combination of some or all of the above. Whatever... I have boobs that nearly fill a B cup bra.

In my youth, my breasts embarrassed me; I would notice people checking out my breasts and occasionally, I would hear hurtful comments like "He should wear a bra?" As I grew older, I began avoiding situations where I had to go shirtless and as an adult, I am never in a public situation without a shirt.

On the other hand, I am very happy with natural breasts when I am en femme and I seldom have to wear anything in my bra to augment my bust. The only time I stuff my bra is when I wear a low-cut top or dress and want to display some cleavage (as in the accompanying photo). To achieve cleavage, I tape my breasts together, but by doing so, my bra cups are only half-filled, so I use stuffing to fill out the cups. But normally, the only thing in my bra is me.

Admittedly, my breasts are small for a woman my size, but they are all mine and they feel as natural as can be. And my breasts are no longer an embarrassment; they have become an asset.