A New Tradition is Born!

By Norah Blucher

Day 1

The holidays are a special time of year. As of late, in the U.S. at least, I feel this begins now with Halloween or right after, and this is the year’s greatest holiday for femulators anyway, so why not. Thanksgiving is truly the kickoff to the Holiday season though. We gather with family and friends for meals and parties and celebrate our own little traditions and rituals throughout the season. Nestled into that time between Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year among the togetherness and decorating, there is an undeniable force many would like to avoid, but many embrace: Shopping! Lots and lots of shopping and the start of it has it’s own official day: Black Friday.

Black Friday is a raucous mess of crowds and deals and usually something I avoided. I worked retail many moons ago and found it dreadful and it always seemed to be led by the family matriarchs checking things off their list with the males in tow to carry the loot. I love to shop, but always found the day too much and much better spent hiking in the forest or decorating for Christmas and writing cards. That was before Norah was released upon the world however, and I decided that I would see what all the buzz was about from a female perspective! That’s right, I decided to step out en femme on the busiest shopping day of the year… for women at least, as I think Christmas eve is the busiest day for men, LOL.

And So it Begins

For this outing I opted to head to an outlet center in southern New Hampshire. New Hampshire is a right interesting place. It is largely known as a vacation spot for outdoor activities, but the southern border it shares with Massachusetts is also a Mecca for shopping and is littered with malls and outlets, sometimes in seemingly out of the way towns and places. I opted to head out Friday morning as opposed to Thanksgiving evening, as this would allow me to squeeze out two days en femme rather than one.

My goal was to head out late morning and hope to get an early check in at the hotel. I ended up staying up a bit late packing and got a late start and also found traffic a bit more horrid than expected with an accident on the highway gumming things up as well. When all was said and done I was checked in by 4 PM to begin my metamorphosis.

I’ll spare you all the Miss Piggy bathroom mess this time around, but in the end I was happy with how things turned out. I went with a plaid pinafore over a short sleeve turtleneck that matched the subtle blue lines in the pattern and wore my heeled black suede knee-high boots. I actually bought this pinafore more than a decade ago and has long been a favorite of mine I’ve dreamed of wearing it out one day, so its day had finally arrived and I guess it could be said it has its own significance for that reason. I also switched over to my shorter wig, which is just easier to deal with wearing coats and such. All said, I felt quite fetching and with no time to waste, I transferred everything to my purse, took a few pictures, put on my coat and headed out the door.

Best Compliment Ever!

The outlet centre was only a few miles away and as I neared the entrance I was confronted with a long Conga line of cars entering. “Oh boy, what are you in for now?” I thought, but at least knowing I was not the only bloody fool heading out to shop at 7 PM. Things actually moved quickly though, as the Conga line of cars leaving was even longer, so in short order I was parked and heading in. 

I’ll say it was crowded, but not horribly so andI could tell it was much worse earlier. Many stores had ropes set up to form lines to get in! Most were not in use at this hour thankfully, but a few of the stores like Coach and Kate Spade still did.

I wandered in a few stores without incident or anything catching my eye before wandering into the Saks off 5th, which is their outlet version of the famous store. It is very much a department store like Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s and my favorite kind for all the variety. Nothing caught my eye until I found a large display of sunglasses, so I went over to take a look. You’ve seen my current ones perched atop my head in previous pictures, but I’ll say they are actually rather androgynous with the exception of being pink and are sort of square and angular, which does no wonders for my angular face. It was time for something decidedly female and now I could try them on en femme to see how they looked!

Finding a pair I liked, I went over to the counter where two younger GGs were running the till. The girl cashing me out was very friendly and then handed my sun glasses to the other girl to find a case. This girl was quite noticeable, I must say. She was rather attractive and it was clear she put a lot of effort into her look, more so than most. Impeccable style, flawless makeup with false eyelashes, smashing hair and the whole nine yards. She could have been one of Stana’s “Femulate Her” adds. I don’t think she noticed me at first when her workmate handed her the glasses, but when she found a case and brought everything back to the counter, she was now much closer to me and gave me a subtle and surprised look staring at me a few seconds and giving me the once-over before saying, “I really like how you do your makeup.”

I know, I know, sales people always compliment you, but I’ve always gotten it on my jewelry, my coat, etc. I’m happy for any compliment, but really I buy these things and wear them. Makeup and hair (even wigs to some degree) are something you create, unique to you. There is an effort involved. Now I know I will not soon be featured on the cover of Vogue, but I took this as a serious compliment from a girl who recognized the effort that goes into creating Norah. I am normally chatty and will complement back, but was so taken off guard that all I could do was blush and say thank you. She really did make my day though.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Heading out into the cool night, I was walking on air. I love the outlet style malls because everything is close together and set up like a traditional mall, but you go outside between stores which feels so good with all the accoutrements we wear en femme. I went to a busy traditional inside mall a few weeks ago and felt like I was going to melt!

As I strolled through the cool evening, I suddenly felt something creeping down my leg, soon followed by the other and a bit of a cold sensation. Oh hell, my thigh high stockings were falling down! I tried to hoist them up from over my dress, but gravity was winning this battle and they were soon going to begin to show. Maybe these were an older style, maybe it was because they had been stored in my attic, but whatever the case, the grippy section at the top was not doing its job and also was not that super soft grippy stuff I have on most of my thigh highs. I know wardrobe malfunctions happen and are nothing to be embarrassed about, but the last thing I wanted was to be remembered as the femulator with the hosiery issue.

I had to think fast and quickly ducked into a store. I had thoughts of finding a bathroom, but knew this would just happen again, so I just went behind a rack and rolled them down below the top of my boots. Viola! Thankfully I had shaved, so I would just go bare legged. A bit chilly for this sort of thing for sure, but better than the alternative.

Crisis averted, I wandered in a few more stores before closing and took this picture as snow began to gently fall, making things truly feel festive.

This may be my favorite picture to date. It just speaks volumes about me. Also note those are large snow flakes, I’m not afflicted with raging dandruff issues, LOL.

I Think I was the Main Dish

Starving at this point, I found my car and headed down the road, looking for somewhere to eat. I had no idea where I was, but drove down a busy road and spied an Applebee’s. It has been years since I have been to one, but Julie Shaw always speaks highly of them so I headed in. The host was pleasant as he greeted me as ma’am, seating me at a table and the waitress was friendly as well. (Thanks for the tip, Julie!)

I’m always happy to get good service, but they truly stood out. I was surprised when the host came back over to my table to ask if everything was okay. Usually the host or hostess seats you and your waiter/waitress takes over. Maybe he was the manager? Maybe he just wanted a second look at me? I’m not sure. The waitress was very attentive as well and I can not think of another time I have gotten such good service.

All this attention actually made me a right bit nervous at first, and I wondered if I was some sort of sideshow, but nothing in their demeanor led me to believe they found anything comical about me and I think there was just a genuine curiosity. I truly don’t think any of the other patrons saw anything other than a woman and though the host and waitress must have read me, I don’t think femulators are something they encountered often, much less one dressed like a prep school girl who waltzed in like Zsa Zsa Gabor, decked out in a fur-trimmed coat with black leather gloves, LOL. Perhaps they thought I was some sort of duchess?

Okay, so I’m exaggerating somewhat, but I did stand out a fair bit, even as a woman, especially one dining alone. I would have blended in perfectly fine as slightly overdressed in eastern Massachusetts or Connecticut, but New Hampshire is a bit less formal and diverse. Whatever the case, I may have been the most exciting thing to breeze through the door since Bike Week and attracted a bit of attention, though it was not negative and I did my best to represent our tribe in such circumstances. Oh, and I did tip well. I usually do anyway, but I go a bit overboard en femme. Money talks and for the sake of an extra two dollars or so, I’d rather leave that extra bit of a positive impression aside from my charming personality, with someone who served me well.

I rounded out the night with a stop at Target for some nail polish remover. I’m always forgetting this and now have three or four nearly full bottles. I also got another pair of black thigh highs for the next day. These are hard to find now, but I’m happy to say that the Target brand “a new day” still makes these and they worked very well. They are not quite as silky as Leggs or Hanes, but foot the bill and even have a reinforced toe, so give them a try!

I finally ended the long day with a shower and painting my nails before finally getting to bed. Just a few hours out, but I still had the whole next day to look forward to.

(To be continued.)

Wearing Cynthia Rowley

Radoslaw Pazura femulating Marlene-Dietrich on Polish television’s
Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo (Your Face Sounds Familiar)..

2 Tall 2 Pass

 

That was me! 

I believed that at 6 feet 2, I was too tall to pass and every civilian I encountered would know my birth gender. That “belief” kept me closeted for a long time and I only went out en femme to support group meetings or events run by my support group.

My support group’s external events helped, but it was cisgender women like the lady above who really helped to ease me out go the closet. I don’t recall being called “gorgeous,” but I did hear enough encouragement and compliments from females (friends, acquaintances and strangers alike) who convinced me to mix it up with civilians.

And so it goes.

Wearing Gucci

Meg Winters wearing ModCloth on her wedding day

What to Wear to a Christmas Party

Wherever I worked during my 50 years of being gainfully employed, the employer always held a Christmas party. The venues varied (hotels, banquet halls, restaurants, even in the salt mine itself), but one thing did not vary: my desire to get dressed to the nines to attend a Christmas party. So it is a little ironic that I did not attend an employer’s Christmas party en femme until I was retired!

I retired in the summer of 2017, but my employer invited me back to attend the Christmas party in December. I accepted the invitation and had to decide if would I go en femme or en homme. 

It was not a hard decision. I learned from some close friends at work that some of my co-workers thought I was trans. (Five Halloweens in a row dressed en femme will do that.) Now I just had to decide what to wear.

The morning of the party (a luncheon rather than a dinner), I did my face and my hair and slipped into my undies.

I started having second thoughts about the outfit I had put together for the party: a hunter green lace dress that I wore to my support group’s Christmas party about 30 years ago. It was dressy, not over the top and very suitable for an office Christmas luncheon. I slipped it on and discovered that the lining was falling apart (strike one), the zipper was not working properly (strike two) and it looked like an old dress (strike three). I threw it away.

I slipped on the other outfit I had put together: a black top with gold decorations around the color, a pleated gold metallic miniskirt, an animal print scarf, off-black tights, gold jewelry and black patent T-strap pumps with a block heel. After I put on the outfit and looked in the mirror, I realized it would have been a mistake if I had not worn it. It was probably over the top, but it made me feel like a million bucks and a few years younger.

The weather was unseasonably warm (in the low 50’s), so I was able to wear my blue trench coat instead of a heavy winter coat. Perfect because the trench coat grazed my knees. Although I was very comfortable wearing the miniskirt outfit to the luncheon, I was less comfortable wearing it around the mall and my trench coat would hide it while I went shopping before the luncheon.

First stop was the nail salon in the Waterbury mall to buy a gift certificate for my daughter. In the past, I avoided that mall, as well as all the other stores in Waterbury because I spent the first half of my life in Waterbury and I did not want to run into anyone I knew from my male life.

I realize that even if I did run into an acquaintance, they probably would not recognize me, but they might recognize my wheels. My license plate displays my ham radio callsign, so anyone who knows my call (most of my family and friends) might wonder who was the blond driving my car.

But I did not give a damn anymore. If I ran into an old friend or acquaintance, I would say “Hello” rather than run away. Then I  could cross another person off my Coming Out To Do List.

So I went to the mall, found the nail salon, purchased a gift certificate and no one batted an eye. And I did not run into any old friends or acquaintances.

I did not browse the mall because time was of the essence and I had two more stops to make before going to the luncheon.

I drove to Big Lots in Wallingford (the city where I was formerly employed and where the luncheon was being held) to purchase CD/DVD jewel cases. Big Lots has the best price for jewel cases and since the store was on the way to the luncheon, I stopped by to stock up.

I picked up two packages of jewel cases and went to the cashier to pay up. The cashier was a 20-something fellow and I think he was flustered by my presence. Instead of spouting out the usual, “Were you able to find everything you wanted?,” he said something that I did not understand, so I asked, “What did you say?”

He replied, “I meant to say ‘Were you able to find everything you wanted?’”

I don’t know if he was flustered because I was a crossdresser or a ravishing beauty or a ravishing crossdresser. Whatever... I was amused as he settled down and handled the rest of the transaction in a professional and pleasant manner.

I have my car serviced at the dealer where I bought it in Wallingford. Whenever I have my car serviced, the dealer always gives me a coupon for a free car wash.  So after Big Lots, I went to the car wash to use a coupon.

There is only a brief encounter with a human being (to turn in the coupon), so I did not expect any issues and there were none, although the human being I dealt with is the same guy who I have encountered during past car cleansings. Evidently, he did not recognize me, my car or my license plate.

It was now high noon. I was five minutes away from the luncheon location, so I would be fashionably late.

I arrived at the banquet hall, parked my car and as I walked to the entrance, I encountered a female co-worker, who was a big fan of my female presentations, also on her way into the hall. I confessed to her that I was nervous and she said I had nothing to be nervous about, but that did not comfort me much.

I entered the hall and almost every seat was full and the contents of every full seat looked up as I removed my trench coat and revealed my Christmas party outfit. There was a definite buzz in the air. The fellow who organized the luncheon greeted me and pointed out the empty seats that were available. I was always on very good terms with him, so I took the empty seat next to him at his table.

I was the only woman at that table, but I had worked with all the guys at the table for years. In fact, I worked with one fellow at two previous places of employment, so we have known each other for over 35 years. The other fellows were always supportive when I dressed en femme at work for Halloween, so I felt comfortable with the group. As I settled in, one of guys offered to buy me a drink (“A glass of pineau, please”). That never happened when I attended past Christmas luncheons en homme!

One hyphenated word described the luncheon: anti-climatic.

It was as if I showed up in boy mode. Except for one female co-worker, who said she loved my skirt, no one mentioned my outfit or the fact that I was presenting as a woman. Everyone called me “Stan” and socialized with me as they always had in the past.

I was seated at the first table in the room, so everyone had to pass by me to get to the bar and the buffet. About half the attendees greeted me in one way or another — waving, shaking my hand, giving me a hug, asking me how I like retirement, etc. Folks I have known for a long time stopped by and spent a longer time conversing with me.

A few co-workers confirmed my suspicion that they suspected I was trans, so it is likely that most of my co-workers shared the same thought. I guess being trans did not make a difference.

What a great bunch of people I worked with!

Wearing Aliétte

Bud Flanagan femulating in the 1946 film Here Comes the Sun.

But I can check your prostate

Wearing Elàgia

Marius Goring femulating in French television’s The O Agency Files:

The Old Ladies Club. 

Click here to view this femulation on YouTube.

Variations on a Theme

Well, does he?

Wearing Shein

Sue Richmond out and about at Dunrobin Castle in Scotland.

Happy T-Day!

Wearing Ann Taylor

Helmut Berger femulating in the 1969 Italian film The Damned.

Designed for Girls Like Us

If you crossdress with only panties underneath then urinating is simple, but if you wear any kind of shapewear, then urinating is not so simple. Besides raising your skirt or lowering your slacks, you then have to deal with your hosiery (if any) and finally your shapewear. And when you are relieved, you have to reverse the process all within the confines of a narrow cubicle. Exiting the cubicle, the chances that you are put together as well as you were on the way in is hit or miss. Yes, being a woman is hard work!

Over the years, I have worn a variety of shapewear. You name it and I probably encountered it. Early on, I noticed something in one of my mother’s girdles – an unadvertised feature – a pee hole. A little slit in the girdle’s crotch that allows milady to pee without removing her shapewear. 

I am not sure about the intricacies of female urinary plumbing, but it seems to me that the pee hole might not be adequate for miladies – so much so that there are products on the market to accessorize the pee hole to prevent wetting the shapewear.

On the other hand, pee holes are ideal for girls like us. Just pull your equipment out through the pee hole, empty your bladder, use toilet paper to wipe any access from your equipment, then store your equipment back through the pee hole! Voila! Your shapewear remained intact doing its thing. You didn’t even have to lower your thigh highs, however, if you are a pantyhose girl, you still have to lower your hosiery.

After discovering pee holes, I made sure to only purchase shapewear that included that feature. And if I absolutely had to have a new girdle missing that feature, I just removed some stitching in the crotch for a DIY pee hole.

Wearing ModCloth

Jorge Chacón

Everyday!

Wearing Shein

Pansies, circa 1930

Missed Miss Opportunity

Fall of 1974, I was working in a quick print shop in Kingston, New York. Next door to the shop was a woman’s clothing boutique. The print shop and boutique were in the same building, an old Victorian home, and the back rooms of the print shop and the boutique were separated by an unlocked door.

The boutique owner/proprietor was a woman in her mid-50’s. Initially, we were just acquaintances, but we became friendlier after she forgot her keys one day and I let her get into her store via the unlocked door that separated our back rooms. After that we chatted almost once a day and became better acquainted.

Over time, I noticed a couple of gents who shopped at her store on more than one occasion, so one day I asked her about her male customers. She quickly responded that they were “transvestites” and that she had about a half dozen male customers who were so inclined.

“That's interesting,” was my reply.

Then she added, “You look to be a size 16. I have some outfits in your size that would look lovely on you.”

I didn’t see that coming! I was very embarrassed and could only manage to squeak out, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

I thought about it often, but never took her up on her offer.

ADDENDUM

I was very closeted back then and up to that time, I had only gone out en femme once and that was for Halloween. While in Kingston, I was living out of a Holiday Inn and often dressed in my room, but never stepped out of that room en femme, although I did visit an old school lingerie store in Kingston en homme and purchased an all-in-one (you can read about that adventure by clicking here).

As I mentioned here before, I am a feminine guy and I assume the boutique owner recognized that and along with my question about her male customers, put two and two together and correctly guessed my "hobby."

And so it goes!

Wearing ModCloth

Lena in Sydney, circa 1985