I Never was a Man

Velma kindly sent me an article, Until I Was a Man, I Had No Idea How Good Men Had It at Work, written by a transman about how he was treated at work as a cisgender female, compared to how he is now treated as a man. In two words, “no comparison.”

As a male who oozed femininity, I did not experience the male privileges that my male co-workers experienced. As a feminine being, I was treated more like my female co-workers. 

All my life, I was a feminine being and growing up, I suffered the slings and arrows of my bullies for being so. At least in the workplace, the bullies had to constrain their mistreatment to some degree, so work offered relief from the nonsense that this feminine boy suffered out among the civilians, as long as I did not mind forfeiting male privilege and just be like one of the girls. 

It is no wonder that presenting as a woman was a perfect match for me. 

And so it goes.

Wearing ModCloth

Stefania Visconti

The Non-Civilians

In my previous post, the Femulator slot featured Mr. Phillips, a Colorado Springs high school teacher, who showed up at a school Halloween function dressed to pass. He looked very convincing, perhaps too convincing and my trans-radar screamed “not a civilian.” (Reminded me of a guy who showed up at work every Halloween in very convincing office girl drag!)

Mr. Phillips’ image reminded me of a post I wrote a few years ago about guys showing up for school dressed as gals, who also looked too good to be civilians. Since we are on the cusp of Halloween, I updated and added to that post and present it to you today for your enjoyment.

Whenever Starla sends me a new batch of femulator images that she culled from online school yearbooks, I try to pick out the femulators who are not civilians, that is, girls like us and not one-time femulators dressing up for their school's womanless event.

It may be due to all those years operating the trans radar, but there is something about certain womanless participants who give off vibes that they are in it for the long run. And sometimes, there are other clues that confirm those suspicions.

Such is the case with Sean Caufield (above). She is exquisite! Her hair, makeup and jewelry are perfect. And the extra clues move her out of the civilian realm. For example, her thin eyebrows en femme and en homme and the fact that dressing as a female is her choice for a Halloween costume and is not a femulation for a womanless event. 

And she is not alone.

I always suspect that something is up when a faculty member femulates along with the students like the student-teacher (above), who “shows off his feminine side on Halloween.” Does Miss Waugh's perfect wig, cleanly shaved legs, tailored skirt suit or slingback pumps hint that she shows off her feminine side on other occasions? Just wondering.

I was also wondering about Coach Ed (above), who goes by "Edwina" during her frequent forays in frocks, when she successfully passes among her students.

Then there is Matt Garber (above), who "was the only male student to wear make-up to the junior-senior prom," which begs the question: Did other male students attend the prom wearing prom dresses, but without makeup? (How gauche!)

Finally, there is lovely Phillip Sacks (above), who dared to be different, but my guess is that she is different more often than one day.

Mr. Wallace donned a French maid costume to fool his drama class students at Eisenhower High in Rialto, California. 

Knowing Smiles

By Paula Gaikowski, Contributing Editor

One of the good things about being 60 years old is that you have an overabundance of life experiences to draw on for self-counseling and for writing in Femulate. I’ve been meaning to write another article for the blog that we all call home, but have been coming up dry. Last night, I remembered an incident from my youth that I think might be of interest.

In 1979, I was stationed at Ramstien Air Base in Germany. Having a week off at Christmas, I took a USO bus tour to Barcelona. These trips are a mix of active military and their dependent families. They are always fun and you make friends quickly while enjoying the tour.

I made friends with an American family and their teenaged son who was only a year or two younger than I at the time. He was a bit of a rock ’n' roller with long hair and we spent an afternoon together perusing record shops in Barcelona looking for rare vinyl records.

On the way back, our tour guide announced a “Topsy Turvy” contest to be held that evening. (We would call it a “womanless beauty pageant” today.) This set off a purr of laughter and a buzz amongst all of us.

One of the ladies riding with us asked me if I’d like to borrow somethings for the contest and I regretfully declined. I would have preferred to dress up nicely and not present a caricature as many would that evening.

The turn out for the event was overwhelming with over 20 taking the challenge and appearing in the contest. Looking back through my eyes as a now experienced femulator, I can see that about a half-dozen of these ladies were ready for the event and had planned ahead.

How do I know they weren’t civilians? The ladies who were pretty and passable had wigs and wore shoes and dresses that fit. The spur of the moment gals presented your typical guy in a dress – look at me and laugh. The non-civilians shaved their legs – it was not their first rodeo.

The three runners-up were really into it and the crowd, especially the married ladies, enthusiastically applauded and appreciated them. Most memorable was my teenaged friend, who turned out to be every bit the glamour girl. In a black, long sleeved, sequined gown wearing black pumps, his long hair was coiffed and teased and his makeup was perfect with what looked like false eyelashes. I just remember how stunning her eyes were.

We found out that his Mom was a beautician and had competed in pageants when she was younger. She was quite proud of her creation, but it was definitely a team effort with a very willing accomplice. I have no doubt he was a budding femulator as it takes one to know one.

I ended the evening at the bar and after midnight saw him come in with a group of young people who had gone out to the local night clubs. I waved to him and gave him the thumbs up. He gave me a knowing smile and I smiled back – words weren’t necessary, we both understood each other.

This photo, which appeared in Colorado Springs' Wasson High School 2001 yearbook, so screams, “Not a civilian!” (Source: Starla).