Minus 4

By Francesca Pankewicz

When I was four, I discovered the movie The Little Mermaid. I couldn’t help but feel this automatic connection with the movie. This feeling of excitement would fill my body each time the colorful pictures would pop up on the screen. 

Ariel taught me how to sing and act. That had become a huge part of my self expression as a child and still do to this day. Of course the music and plot of the story were great. But I saw a daring young mermaid ready to take on a new world. 

Ariel dreamed of adventure and excitement. She would never let anyone get in her way. She was determined, tenacious and headstrong. Which was the dream of any young girl, but the only difference was I felt like I couldn’t be like them... because I wasn’t born female. 

Growing up I would run around in princess dresses and play with dolls. I was obsessed with mermaids, hair and makeup. I would sing, act and dance and was always born to be heard in this world. I would look up to female celebrity pop culture icons for fashion inspiration and enjoy the content they would create.

But I was supposed to be playing sports, wrestling and whatever else the male ideal is for a young boy. I never fit in with it. My relationship with the male ideal never changed because I always felt female. I almost went against it in my head because that wasn’t who I wanted to be. I would be in my head as a child thinking of being the princess and saved by a charming prince. I would play with Ariel dolls and wish I could be like her, have her hair, smile and personality. I connected with women more; it was just natural. 

Dolls for me were a huge deal and I was quite obsessed with them for a little too long in life. It was because I got to live out my life through them. I got to act like the girl I wanted to be. I could feel their hair and feel as it was mine and create my own little perfect reality. 

Hair is a huge thing for expressing femininity. Ideally it’s long according to stereotypes for women. I’d have to wear a short bowl haircut and wear polo shirts. 

I held onto playing with dolls until I was about ten because I couldn’t let go. If I didn’t have my dolls I could never be who I wanted to be. My parents would say to me, “You’re too old to be playing with those” and whisper about how they thought I would’ve grown out of that “phase.” But it wasn’t a phase – it was me. 

One of the first times I felt transphobia was when I was four. I had just lost my grandmother Rosalinde and she was my best friend. She started out my life and taught me it was okay to be myself. Let me play however I wanted wherever I wanted. It wasn’t a secret she loved me for me and wouldn’t care what anyone would think. My parents would pay attention to the dirty stares and side comments. But I never cared because I was who I was. I didn’t have a concept of gender identity, it was just me. 

She had recorded me in a princess dress acting out the movie Snow White and it was put on a VHS tape. The first Thanksgiving dinner after Rosalinde had passed, we had it at my grandfather’s and we were going over home movies. The recording of me and the princess dress came up and everyone started to laugh at me. I didn’t know why, but I started to feel ashamed. That was the first time that I realized I wasn’t normal, I wasn’t supposed to be who I wanted to be. A child should never feel that way. 

“You need to grow out of that phase!” But if it makes me unhappy, why would I do that? When I would play with my dolls, I could live the life I wanted. They became so much more to me once my Grandma passed – it was my only escape. 

The princess dresses and princess shoes stopped, so did my femininity. The only way I could do something was in my head fantasizing. Sometimes I would get access to wigs and dresses and shoes, but I’d have to sneak around to do it. I would go in the bathroom with my Mom’s makeup and sneak doing my makeup. 

My Dad would sometimes catch me and say I was a sissy or sometimes use the F slur towards me. The transphobia was real, but it was always said as “I'm protecting you.” 

I started getting depressed. Once my dolls were taken away and I felt shame for them afterwards my life got so boring. The best comparison I have for this is when Ariel’s Dad found her grotto and wrecked all of her treasures she’d spent years collecting. She begged and pleaded for her father to stop, as did I, but it didn’t stop. 

I wasn’t the same. I started to not like my makeup done or my hair done anymore. I didn’t know what was missing in my life at this point. I had fully come to accept who I was taught to be and forgot about who I truly was. 

I turned 15, and some feeling came back. It was the same as when I was a child. I knew it wasn’t right, was not who I was taught to act like but I couldn’t take it anymore. Like in old ways, I went again and snuck my Mom’s makeup for the first time in about four years. I was listening for people to be awake and didn’t hear anything. So I went to the bathroom and began my attempt at makeup. I heard footsteps coming, but I didn’t worry because I was under the impression that the door was locked. It was not. 

My Dad comes barging in and says the same offensive slurs as usual. I felt this extreme anger inside instead of shame. Usually I would try to hide what I was doing and have my face hidden looking the other way, but I stood my ground. I looked him in the eyes and I responded with “I don’t care, f*** you.” 

I finally felt this feeling that I missed it and I knew I wasn’t going to let it go. The next morning I bought $100 worth of makeup. I saw a video of James Charles doing his makeup and I thought why can’t I? The next day I went to school with my makeup on. I put on press-on nails and my hair was already growing out. 

Of course the makeup looked horrible and yes, people did judge me. I didn’t care anymore. I finally got the confidence to do it. Everything started to fit in one place. The puzzle was coming together. Before you knew it, I subtracted four letters in my name and was Fran.

Source: ShopBop

Femulating in the Roaring Twenties

The Spark

I have always had feminine inclinations and made no effort to hide them. Ask my family, friends, acquaintances and enemies and they will tell you that I am one of the most feminine guys they know. And I’m not even trying! 

Natured or nurtured? Any feminine characteristics I have are natural and not put-on. As long as I can remember, I have always been feminine. That’s not to say that my parents had nothing to do with it – being a Momma’s boy/girl certainly had an influence.

Crossdressing was a perfect match for me. But who knew squat about crossdressing back in my formative years?

So it was kismet that my Dad bought the Daily News for handicapping horses, where I noticed an ad for 82 Club among the horse race results in the back of the paper. 82 Club (AKA Club 82) was a nightclub in New York City that featured female impersonators and their ads depicted a beautiful showgirl (or so I initially thought), who was actually an impersonator from the club.

I was amazed that a male could look so female! And I began clipping the weekly 82 Club ads from the newspaper saving them behind the Washington Senators in the box containing my baseball card collection.

Soon I was investigating my mother’s wardrobe. I will never forget when I finally got up the courage to try on a pair of her nylons and high heel pumps. Then looking in the mirror and seeing the the legs of a woman reflected back at me. And that woman was me!

Whenever I was home alone, I dressed in my mother’s and sister’s clothing and makeup. I often concentrated on experimenting with their bras and girdles trying to find the right combination that was best for me. Makeup was a challenge, but I studied the art and got better at it. My sister even bought a wiglet to complete my femulation! 

Practice, practice, practice, but to what end? I finally could not contain myself any longer and on Halloween 1970, I crossdressed and went out visiting (and shocking) some relatives. 

That was the beginning and there seems to be no end!

Wearing Elisabetta Franchi

Fontasia L'Amour femulating on television’s Sparks in 1997.
You can view this femulation on YouTube.
Thank you Zoe for the femulation alert!

Blue Monday

 Got Those Not-Going-to-Hamvention Blues Again Dept.

If you have been following along here for awhile, you know I usually go to Hamvention in Ohio en femme. I drive the 750 miles to the Dayton area en femme, spend the long weekend at Hamvention en femme and drive home en femme.

Presenting at Hamvention 2018

Due to COVID19, Hamvention was cancelled in 2020 and 2021, so I was very much looking forward to going in 2022. Hamvention is this week, however, I will not be going because of my osteoarthritis. I am done with physical therapy, feel about 90% recovered and I could probably go if I grin and bear it. But it is too late to get a flight at a reasonable price.

And scratch the roadtrip because my osteoarthritis would not be tolerable sitting in the Subaru for 12 hours going and coming. And with gas prices being what they are, I estimate that gas would cost me over $300!

And with COVID19 rising again, I am not so sure that hanging out with 30,000 of my peers in confined quarters is a healthy choice. 

I will really miss the opportunity to present as a woman full-time for a five-day stint. It is usually one of the highlights of my year. Even worse, I will miss seeing all my friends and acquaintances who I normally see at Hamvention.

Guess I will have to wait ’til next year.

Who’s Counting Dept.

I check the blog’s statistics most days and most days, the blog gets 6500 to 7000 hits. But occasionally, the hit count is much higher. Last Thursday, May 5, it was over 10,000 and Thursday, May 12, it was again 10,000.

I cannot account for the higher hit counts. Go figure – I can’t!

Gordy and Mary (full names: Gordy Blanche and Mary Morgan), portrayed by Reiner Kohler (Gordy) and Georg Preuße (Mary), were a well-known German duo in the 1980s, performing on well-known stages as well as in many entertainment shows on television. (Source: Wikipedia.)

Going Straight

By Gina V

When I stopped working for the man and embarked on the road less-travelled, it was not exactly coincidental that it took me to a provincial city that happened to have the largest and best-known gay scene in the country. As they say, “where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” so I deduced there would be a fairly active transvestite one within it. And my intuition proved me correct. So once I had broken the ice,* I filled my (3-inch) boots accordingly.

However, if taking a diversion into Straightsville was ever going to be an option, I knew that would always be a much tougher task. For unlike the gay scene, there would be no quarter given and experiencing such a trip without being subjected to ridicule (or worse) depended on being 100% convincing in every way. 

Plus, unlike others in my position (like Stana, for example), despite being informed on numerous occasions that I could pass when dressed, my chronic low self- esteem told me otherwise. Not to mention the fear of experiencing a similar fate to the soldier who goes AWOL by disguising himself as a woman in the film The Triple Echo! Therefore, my few steps into that world were taken very gingerly.

My first experience was going out with my landlord (who was in “mufti”) one afternoon in his car to visit a trans chum of his. With that in mind, I wore a much shorter wig and far less makeup than usual (in the hope of looking more like my sister than Joan Collins) plus a sober grey skirt suit to try and blend in with the scenery. 

But, as if being out in Straightsville in broad daylight for the first time wasn’t scary enough, he insisted on stopping on the way to visit an off license in one of the roughest parts of town – leaving me on my own in the car, where suddenly the windows seemed to get a lot larger. Despite making sure the doors were locked, I was petrified that a gang of youths would come around the corner any second, immediately twig what I was and then smash the windows to drag me out onto the street for a good kicking! But we made it back home with said friend being another who complimented me on my convincingness.

My second (and final) daytime exposure was when I wanted to get a new wig from a salon in the city center and my landlord (who was again driving in mufti) advised me that I would only really know if one suited me if I were dressed for the occasion. So again, I tried to present myself as best I could (perhaps, my hemline could have been a bit lower in retrospect!) in order to merge in seamlessly with the many shoppers and others going about their business. Even so, the walk of a few hundred yards from car park to shop was an ordeal of fire, with me half-expecting a lynch mob to give chase at any moment. However, we arrived at the salon without incident and I wore my new purchase as we made our way back to the car (again, without anyone seemingly being phased).

As a result of that, one thing I learned that can head suspicious straights off at the pass is to step out in the company of a man. Especially one that is straight (or at least straight-acting/looking). I was once out on the local gay scene with an admirer and we queued to get into a club on a night transvestites were admitted free of charge, while everyone else had to pay. And when it came to my turn, the doorman informed me it would cost me two quid!** As such, when my companion walked me through the city center afterwards, it was no surprise that no one batted an eyelid at what they saw as an ordinary couple heading home after a night on the town.

So on the odd occasion out and about in Straightsville, I have managed to get away with it visually. However, the voice is the enemy of the convincing crossdresser! Although I can sing a lot higher than most men (and in a more-than-passable female tone to boot), sadly, I know that I need to work on my femme speaking voice. And as such, I envy my American cousins for their casual drawl allied to relative-freedom to express themselves emotionally, which means they are more likely to succeed in that regard than stiff upper-lipped Limeys. So until now, that has been a good reason why my sorties into Straightsville have been few and far between.

However, as one whose trans persona is becoming ever more apparent, maybe the time has come to try and overcome that hurdle in order that my public appearances are no longer restricted to gay zones? As they say: Watch this space…

* On my first night out on said scene, someone told me I looked like Monica Lewinsky!
** I now wish I had just paid up rather than protested – ha ha

Wearing Boston Proper

Brian Deacon femulating in the 1972 UK film The Triple Echo.

No Roadtrip Again

In past years, I would have begun my annual 750-mile roadtrip to Dayton, Ohio, this morning to attend the biggest ham radio convention in the world. But due to the pandemic, Hamvention was cancelled again this year.

Attending Hamvention gives me the opportunity to present as a woman for five days. Needless to say, that extended stay en femme is something I always look forward to and have sorely missed in 2020 and again in 2021. (The photo above is the gang at our booth at Hamvention two years ago.)

Due to my age, my family is urging me to fly rather than drive to Dayton in the future, so next year my “roadtrip” could be decidedly different if I take their advice. I am sure I will enjoy flying as a woman for the first time. And it will allow me to check off another entry on my bucket list.

Actually, there are not many undone items left on my bucket list. A lot of the undones are low priority; it is not important to me whether I ever accomplish them or not. Maybe it’s time to revisit y list and edit it accordingly.

Wearing Zimmermann

Jawn Galliano

The Booth Babe

I will not make my annual trip to Ohio to attend Hamvention because it was cancelled due to the corona virus. To relieve my Hamvention withdrawl,  I am repeating the story of my first Hamvention trip as a woman back May 2010. I hope you enjoy it.

There is so much to write about my long weekend en femme, but, first, let me set the scene.

I am well-known in the world known as amateur radio or ham radio. My notoriety in that world is as a writer/author. For over 40 years, I have written for the leading ham radio organization in the USA.

During that time, I have written monthly columns for the their magazine, articles for their books, and complete books, one of which was a best seller, and currently, I write a weekly column for their web site.

I am also on the board of directors of another prominent organization that represents a sub-group (digital experimenters) in ham radio. I also serve as that organization's newsletter editor and secretary.

As a result, I am well known in the ham radio world; I was once told to my face that I am a “ham radio legend.”

Each May, the biggest ham radio convention in the world occurs in Dayton, Ohio. I attend most years as I did this past weekend. I usually moderate a forum at the convention and staff the booth of the digital experimenters’ organization.

I did not moderate a forum this year because I was undecided about attending at all and by the time I made up my mind to go, it was too late to volunteer as a moderator.

I came out to the other board members and officials of the digital experimenters’ organization as well as my editor and her supervisors at the national organization I write for. In addition to coming out, I informed them that I intended to attend Hamvention en femme.

Not a discouraging word was heard. In fact, I received much support and offers of assistance, if needed.

Wednesday and Thursday

My weekend started with an early departure on Wednesday. I “cheated” and did not dress en femme because I wanted to get on the road as early as possible and getting en femme would have put a two-hour dent in my departure.

I drove 400 miles to Bedford, PA, where I stayed overnight.

Thursday morning, I dressed en femme and checked out of the Quality Inn. The woman staffing the desk during check-out was different from the woman staffing the desk when I checked in, so there was no confusion about who was staying in my room.

I arrived at the Doubletree Hotel in downtown Dayton about 2:15 PM. At check-in, the woman staffing the desk loved my top.

By the way, I registered at the hotel as “Stana” to add credibility to my femulation. (My credit card has only the initial “S” as my first name, which lets me get away with using “Stana” or any other “S” name I desire.)

In my room, I freshened up, changed from a top, leggings, and flats, to a black and white floral print dress and black patent platform slingback peep-toe pumps (see photo above left).

I took the elevator down to the lobby and visited the hotel’s bar. I perched myself on a bar stool, ordered a drink and relaxed before heading out to the board of director’s meeting.

The bartender treated me respectfully and I nursed my drink, but it was boring. There were two other customers talking about some ham radio convention and there was a hockey game on the television.

I left, fetched my car from valet parking and drove to the hotel uptown for the board meeting.

Entering the meeting room, I found two friends already there, who greeted me enthusiastically. As each of the other board members and officers showed up, they also greeted me as old friends even though I was sporting a “new look.”

The new board members were less enthusiastic because we were not old friends, but they were respectful and seemed accepting. Our accountant, who was not aware of my status, also was respectful and the waitstaff, who served our food referred to me as a female, so overall, the weekend started off on a very positive note.

The meeting ended and I was back in my room by 10 PM. I went to bed as soon as I could because I had to be up at 5 AM for my first day at the convention.

Friday and Saturday (Days)

Friday and Saturday, I spent most of those days staffing our booth and occasionally, I visited the other booths at the convention. Both days were similar and in my mind now it is hard to separate the two, so I will summarize the days together.

Males dominate ham radio. Females only represent about 15% of the US ham population. This demographic was clearly evident at Hamvention and attending the convention as a woman was a revelation.

For one thing, there were no lines at the restrooms. Also, the restrooms were pristine and the floors were dry even at the end of the day. (Attending the convention in the past as a male, I usually avoided the restrooms after mid-morning because they were disgusting.)

Another thing, I was the object of many a male’s attention. Staffing the booth or walking around the convention hall, strange men smiled at me, said “hello,” admired me from afar, etc., etc. It was amazing!

During the two days staffing the booth, I met six readers of this blog. Three informed me beforehand by e-mail that they would look for me at the convention; the other three just showed up at my booth and recognized me.

(Another reader e-mailed me saying that she thought she saw me walking near a specific set of booths around noon on Saturday. I confirmed that I was at those booths at that time and wish that she had stopped me to say “hello.”)

I am not aware of the comfort levels of the blog readers who met me at the convention, so I don't want to out them here by mentioning their names or worse, their ham radio call signs, but I want to thank them all for searching me out and giving me an opportunity to meet and girl-talk with them for awhile.

It was wonderful to meet and chat with the people I already knew, but it was also wonderful to meet and chat with people I did not know explaining the technologies displayed in our booth. I don't know if that qualifies me as a “booth babe,” but in all my years of staffing our booth, mine was the first appearance of a female form on the booth’s firing line. I wonder if that helped to attract visitors to our booth.

Friday Night

Friday night, our organization has a joint dinner with another experimenter’s organization, which usually attracts 100 to 200 attendees at a banquet hall south of Dayton. I have attended this dinner every year I have attended the convention, so I am familiar with many of the attendees, who also attend every year.

I wore my favorite dress du jour: the retro green dress (see photo above center). I accented the dress with a gold scarf, my simulated snakeskin platform slingback peep-toe pumps and a new matching simulated snakeskin bag. The hem of the dress is short, so I was showing more leg Friday night than I did the rest of the weekend. I thought I looked very nice.

I drove to the banquet hall, bought a drink, sat at a table up front, conversed with the other folks who sat at my table and tugged at the hem of my dress the whole time. I knew some of the folks at my table already and the others were new to me, but no one seemed to mind the new me.

The food was excellent as usual and I enjoyed the speaker, who is an old friend (we go back about 30 years).

Funny story... my speaker friend showed up at our booth early Friday morning and I made a point of saying “hello” to him. I thought I detected some confusion on his part and felt that I should have explained what was going on, but he was in a hurry to get to his booth.

I caught up with him before dinner and began to explain, but he interrupted me and said he knew exactly who I was and was very cool with it. The only thing he wanted to know was what name do I go by now.

That typified the whole weekend.

An aside: It was funny how some of my friends and acquaintances recognized me immediately despite my new look, whereas others were clueless as to my identity and we had to be re-introduced. Go figure.

Saturday Night

Saturday night, my plans were to attend the Contest Dinner, which is the big event for the ham radio contest community attending the convention. My editor, who is a big contester, had invited me to attend.

When I checked out the web page for the dinner, I noticed that most of the men in attendance were wearing jackets and ties, which was unusual for a ham radio affair.

There were no photos of females in attendance; I wondered what I should wear, so I asked my editor. She informed me that she always buys a new cocktail style dress to wear to that dinner.

Still unsure about what to wear, I sent her photos of some of my cocktail dresses. She loved the red dress I wore to my support group’s banquet back in March, so that is what I wore to the dinner along with some bling and my black patent platform slingback heels. I also sexed-up my makeup and hair and tried a new trick to accentuate my cleavage. In my humble opinion, I thought I came as close to achieving the term “hot” as I possibly could (see photo above left).

I took the hotel shuttle to the hotel hosting the dinner and climbed a grand circular staircase from the lobby up to the mezzanine level where the cocktail hour was in full swing. As I climbed the stairs, a sea of 200 to 300 males congregating in groups around the mezzanine appeared and suddenly it seemed as if they all turned their heads simultaneously to look at me! I smiled back at them and worked my way to the top of the staircase, where I discovered I was the only female attendee present at that point in time.

I am not very active in ham radio contests and did not recognize one face in the crowd. My editor had not yet arrived, so I was on my own.

A lot of guys were checking me out, but not one had the courage to speak to me, so I worked my way to the bar and ordered a drink. Then I worked my way back through the crowd looking for a familiar face, found none and decided to escape to the ladies’ room to regroup.

In the ladies’ room, I touched up my lipstick, took a deep breath, and went back out to the mezzanine. By then, the staff had opened the doors to the banquet room and people were filing in, so I joined them and found the table front and center that my editor had reserved. I chose a seat and sat down.

Eventually, the room filled up and my editor sat next to me. She introduced me as “Stana” to all the other people seated at our table. After my introduction, one of the guys at our table commented that he recognized my call sign, but the person he knew with that call sign looked very different. I dunno if he was being a wise guy or was actually confused.

The food and speakers were excellent and there was a mass quantity of door prizes. It seemed that 25% of the 432 folks in attendance won something, including me.

When they drew my ticket and announced my call sign as a winner of a ham magazine subscription, I came out en masse to all the hams at the dinner who recognized my call sign and happened to see me get up to pick up my prize. No one confronted me about the outing, so I assume it was not a big deal to anyone except me.

Overall

Overall, the weekend worked out great. Everyone I encountered accepted me one way or another.

All my friends and acquaintances were very ok with the new me.

The strangers who engaged me throughout the weekend, hams and civilians alike, accepted me as a woman, trans or otherwise.

I could not ask for anything more.

Wearing Ann Taylor

Jonathan Tucker femulates in the 2000 film 100 Girls.

Three Strikes and You’re Out

Last week, they postponed the True Colors Conference. Sunday evening, they cancelled Hamvention. Monday evening Tuesday morning, they postponed cancelled the Transgender Lives Conference. So all three conferences where I was presenting have been affected by the Coronavirus, also known as the “Trump Flu.”

Damn!

On a happier note, Peaches alerted me to an intriguing article about British cartoonist Steven Appleby, who crossdresses full-time.

Going to wash my hands now.

Wearing Price

Cartoonist Steven Appleby

Weekends Were Made for Femulating

Self-Cobbling

I knew I had the perfect pair of high heels to go with the dress I plan to wear to my high school class reunion. Since I had not worn that pair of heels in years, I thought I should check their condition in case they needed to be dusted off or cleaned.

When I inspected them, I noticed that the plastic tip on one high heel was gone exposing the metal dowel that held the tip in place.

I have no recollection of how I lost the tip, but I knew that I had to get it fixed before I could wear the shoe. There is a shoe repair shop about 10 minutes from my home, but I thought I might be able to repair it myself, so I looked online and found iFixit's guide for high heel tip repair.

After reading the guide, the fix seemed easy enough, so I moseyed on over to Amazon to find what I needed for the repair. I ordered a kit for $11.78 that included 30 pairs of replacement tips in five different sizes and a pair of pliers for removing the tip.

The kit arrived yesterday and it took me about 10 minutes to replace the tip. And I now have a lifetime supply of high heel tips!

Which Blog?

In addition to Femulate, I also have a low-traffic blog where I write about my radio adventures.

It is "low-traffic" because I publish a post once or twice a week and it gets about 450 hits per day (as compared to this blog where I post 5 or 6 times per week and average 5,000 hits per day).

And so every year while I am staffing our booth at Hamvention, at least one stranger will approach me and say, "I read your blog."

I always ask, "Which one?" even though I am pretty sure they are referring to Femulate and not my low-traffic radio blog.

When their response is "Huh?"or something similar, I know that they are not a civilian, but rather are one of us.

Wearing Oscar De La Renta (Source: Moda Operandi)

Huntz Hall femulating in the 1943 film 📺 Clancy Street Boys.

Today is Tuesday

We Will Miss Dress Barn

Heather informed me about this interesting Vox article "When I couldn’t tell the world I wanted to transition, I went to Dressbarn." I'm sure many of you can relate to this piece as did I.

Stairs and High Heels

This how-to from Abby of Vivian Lou Insolia insoles fame is worth reviewing even if you read it before.

While it's quite empowering to dress up and get out and about, I've been reminded (on more than one occasion) to be careful on the stairs!

Let's quickly review the 'how to' of stairs in heels.

Going Up

:: Visualize a straight line going up toward your end point, rather than looking down at your feet as you climb.

:: As you walk up the step, place your body weight on the ball of the foot. This means that the back of the heel will most likely hang off the step.

:: While ascending, place one foot right in front of the other on the next step.

:: Hold on to the railing if necessary.

Going Down

:: Hold the railing for support. Keep your grip strong, but relax the rest of your arm and shoulder. Gently glide your hand down the railing as you descend.

:: At first, you may need to look down at the stairs to determine depth and steepness. After a few steps (if possible), visualize a straight line going toward your end point, rather than looking down at your heels.

:: Place as much of the shoe (heel and front of the shoe) on the step as possible. Depending on the depth of the step, you may want to push your shoe back until it touches the back of the step to make sure as much shoe as possible is making contact.

:: If the stairs are narrow, you may try tilting your body at a 45 degree angle feet and stepping down on an angle. Place one foot in front of the other on the next step down. This method definitely takes practice!

:: Go slow. Take your time heading down stairs in heels. Better to be safe than sorry!

As with most other difficult tasks, the more you walk up and down stairs in heels, the easier it becomes.

Finding the Right Eyebrow Color for Your Hair

Women like us can switch hair color faster than you can say "Henry Margu." When I switched from blonde to the brunette-red mix I wear today, I noticed that my eyebrow color did not look right. Did I need to go lighter or darker?

This article from InStyle would have helped and will help you if you make the switch.

Me on YouTube

I appear at 1:57 in this YouTube video collection of photos from Hamvention.

Wearing Venus

Yours truly wearing Venus

More Hamvention Shorts

My Hamvention picnic outfit

I have been attending Hamvention most years since 1978. Before 2010, I attended in boy mode. Since 2010, I have attended as a woman.

As a well-known writer in the ham radio world, I made a lot of friends and acquaintances and when I attended Hamvention, I was on a first-name basis with a lot of the people staffing the booths at the show as well as with the makers and shakers in the hobby, many of whom made presentations at Hamvention.

When I began presenting as a woman at Hamvention, the only people who were aware of the change were the folks I came out to. Everyone else had no clue. Either they assumed I was the wife of a male ham attending the show or I was one of those rare female hams.

As a result, I had to reintroduce myself to the makers and shakers and folks who staffed the booths. And to tell you the truth, the first few years I attended as a woman, I was very shy and did not perform a lot of reintroductions because I worried how people would react.

When I realized that most people reacted positively to the change, I became more confident and outgoing and began touring the show with great abandon just as I did when I attended in boy mode.

Now I am again on a first-name basis with the makers and shakers and folks who staff the booths, but now that first name is "Stana" not "Stan."

📻 📻 📻

I lost one earring (a favorite from Napier) and my lip brush at Hamvention. Actually, my lip brush probably never made the trip. Last time I looked, it was in the bag that holds my makeup brushes, but when I did my makeup in Ohio Thursday morning, it was gone.

Back home grocery shopping on Wednesday, I checked the makeup aisle at Stop & Shop. Although they have a large makeup aisle including a big selection of makeup brushes, they did not have a lip brush.

Next I tried Rite Aid which has an even bigger makeup aisle, but still no luck. In case I missed the brush among the huge array of products in the makeup aisle, I asked a sales representative and she said, "I haven't seen a lip brush for sale in years. Does anyone even use them today?"

I replied, "I do."

Since I was in boy mode, she laughed.

I ended up ordering a new lip brush from Amazon. And I found the earring on eBay. Yay!

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As a ham radio operator, usually you have no idea about the people you contact over the air.

For years, Bill and I were key operators in a ham radio network spanning Connecticut and we worked together to make the network function efficiently. I never met Bill until I ran into him at Hamvention. (Yes, we traveled over 750 miles to meet each other even though we lived about 40 miles apart.)

After that first encounter, we usually met up at Hamvention each year, until I began showing up as a woman. As I mentioned above, I was shy those first few years attending as a woman, so I did not go out of my way to find Bill. Then about five years ago, I saw Bill sitting in the audience of a forum I was also attending and when the forum was over, I made a beeline to Bill to reintroduce myself.

Bill was surprised, but seemed OK with the revised me and said that I had to be true to myself. Since then, Bill and I usually meet up at Hamvention as if nothing changed.

This year, as I was returning to our booth after making my presentation, I heard someone call out my name and I turned around to find Bill waiting in line to buy lunch from a food truck. He informed me that he retired as a state police officer (I had no idea he was a state cop) and had moved to South Carolina. And then he said he wanted to introduce me to his wife, who was also waiting in line.

It does my heart good when a friend or acquaintance wants to introduce me to their spouse. It is so meaningful to me because they have accepted me as a real person, not a freak, but a woman.

Wearing Veronica Beard

Scott Willis femulating on stage in The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.