Happy Holidays!

I Don’t Blend and I Don’t Care

Many wise transwomen recommend blending if you are trying to pass. (I’ve occasionally recommended that myself.)

The theory says that if you dress like the other women in the environment you plan to be in, that is, if you blend in with the other women, you will lessen the chances of bringing attention to yourself, thus increasing the chances of successfully passing yourself off as a woman.

For example, if you are going grocery shopping, then jeans and a top would be your choice of apparel for blending in most places as opposed to a bodycon dress and stiletto pumps.

I have tried blending and it seems to work, but blending is boring. When I dress en femme, I want to dress EN FEMME, if you know what I mean. I dress to be noticed not to be ignored. If I wanted to be ignored, I'd dress en homme.

As Lucille Sorella wrote in her Femme Secrets blog, “As a genetic woman, the last thing I want to do is blend in! I wear makeup, style my hair, and dress fashionably because I want to stand out in a crowd. I believe it’s a natural feminine desire to want to be noticed.”

As a transwoman, I feel the same way. 

I am also at an age that I dress to please me and don’t care what other people think.

And perchance I have to go to Stop & Shop to buy a few items while I am en femme, I just think of myself as another working girl dressed appropriately for the office, but overdressed for grocery shopping during her lunch hour or on her way home from the office.

Works for me.

Wearing Rue La La

Christina at a Tau Upsilon Tri Ess Meeting, Christmas 2008.

Marcie at an entrance to the Galleria in North Dallas, Texas.

70 Years Ago

Seventy years ago on December 1, Christine Jorgensen’s sex change made headlines on the front page of the Daily News and probably kicked off the modern transgender era, although the term “transgender” did not exist back then.

I was just a toddler at the time, but fast forwarding 20 years found me in the audience of University of Connecticut’s Jorgensen Auditorium hanging on to every word spoken by Christine Jorgensen, who was presenting a lecture at my school.

I was taking Journalism 101 and our professor randomly assigned stories to us budding reporters and I just happened to get the Christine Jorgensen assignment. As a closeted crossdressing 21-year-old, I was thrilled, but had to feign disinterest so as not to give anything away!

I attended the lecture and was in awe of the woman, who used to be a man. I had seen photos, but had never encountered a trans-person in person, at least, not to my knowledge. Seeing Christine up on the stage giving her talk was my first trans-encounter and it was a very positive experience. There was no doubt in my mind that Christine was really a woman and it gave me pause that maybe I was one, too.

Thank you Mikki for reminding me about this anniversary.

Wearing New York & Company

Virginia (from France) standing next to the Christmas tree she had just decorated.

Brandy relaxing and contemplating what might Santa bring.

Yet Another Girl’s Day Out

On Friday, I posted the story about attending my former employer’s Christmas luncheon en femme after I had retired. They invited me back again the following year, so as a follow-up to Friday’s post, I am telling the rest of the story today.   

Thursday (December 20, 2018), I attended my former employer’s Christmas luncheon party.

I wore my Julia Jordan gunmetal fit-and-flare dress, Dress Barn off-black pin-dot tights and Nine West metallic platform pumps. Instead of accessorizing with silver jewelry as I originally planned, my wife suggested I wear something colorful for the holidays, so I wore a red necklace and red earrings.

As I began to fill my old tired-looking black handbag, my daughter gave me an early Christmas present: a red Kate Spade handbag! I was so surprised and happy with her generous gift that I almost started to cry, but I held back my tears so as not to ruin my makeup.

I left the house and drove to the banquet hall hosting the luncheon. Usually I wear my heels when I drive, but the platform pumps are about a half-inch higher than my usual footwear and that half-inch or so made it difficult to manipulate the three pedals under the dashboard, so I wore flats to drive and switched to heels when I arrived at the banquet hall.

I entered the hall and when I checked my coat, the three women staffing the front of the hall said they loved my outfit. One said she wanted to buy shoes like mine.

I found a seat at a table with my former co-workers and it was just like last year’s Christmas luncheon when I wrote, “It was as if I showed up in boy mode.” Folks greeted and chatted with me like old times. The fact that I was presenting as a woman made no difference.

I realize now that it did not matter if I showed up in boy mode or girl mode. Rather, it mattered that I showed up in Stan mode. In a dress or slacks, I am the same person that my former co-workers knew for 20 years and I think most of them were glad to know me just as I was glad to know them.

👠👠👠

All my previous femulations among my co-workers was with blonde hairdos, so when I showed up as a brunette on Thursday, some people did not recognize me.

While standing in line for the buffet, the co-worker in front of me remarked that she had no idea who I was because I looked so different as a brunette. She added that I looked gorgeous as a brunette.

👠👠👠

Although I had a great time celebrating the holidays with my former co-workers, it was also a little depressing to hear the news I missed during the past year. One co-worker’s son committed suicide, another co-worker was diagnosed with colon cancer and the company is being sold (again), which may result in my division disappearing.

👠👠👠

Good news is that I reached my weight loss goal this week. Bad news is that I now have a closet full of shoes that no longer fit. I had no idea that losing weight would result in reducing my shoe size as well as my dress size.

I plan to go through my collection and see what fits and what doesn't fit. Every cloud has a silver lining, so I assume I will also find shoes that were too small six months ago that now fit.

I discovered my shrinking foot problem when I tried on the Nine West metallic platform pumps a few days before wearing them out. They were very loose and after a few steps, I would lose one shoe or the other.

Being a stubborn fashionista, I was determined to wear those shoes with my new dress to the Christmas party, so I inserted heel liners in each shoe. The liners helped and I did not lose a shoe throughout the day, but often I had to clench my foot when it felt like a shoe was not going my way. So they are destined for the “do not fit” division of my shoe wardrobe.

By the way, I have not been invited back again to my former employer’s Christmas luncheons. It is probably due to my losing touch with my former co-workers, as well as management changes after the company was sold.

Wearing New York & Company

Cyrsti (left) at Christmas dinner with her wife Liz.
Cyrsti blogs at Cyrsti’s Condo.

Paula Gaikowski toasts to Happy New Year.

Holiday Photo Glut

The response to my invitation to submit your holiday photo for publication in the Femulator spot below has been overwhelming. So much so that I would not be able to finish posting all the received photos until after the holidays were over. To correct that problem, beginning with today’s post, I will post two holiday photos each day so that all your photos will appear in a timely holiday manner.

Happy Holidays!

Wearing New York & Company

Kerri in her LBD.

Rachel at Sidetracks in Chicago in December 2020 wearing a gorgeous honey blonde wig, an LBD, full makeup and jewelry, nails, 3-inch heels and fur jacket. (Not bad for 70 years old!)

Girl’s Day Out

I retired in the summer of 2017, but the folks at my old salt mine invited me back for the company’s Christmas party luncheon. After five consecutive appearances en femme at work on Halloween, I assumed some of my co-workers figured that I was gender variant, so I decided to attend the luncheon en femme and confirm any thoughts that my co-workers had concerning my gender. So hop on the wayback machine and read the post I wrote all about that day five years ago .   

Tuesday, this girl went out for the day.

After I did my face and my hair and slipped into my undies, I had second thoughts about the outfit I had put together on Monday and began formulating Plan B.

Hanging in my closet was a hunter green lace dress that I wore to my support group’s Christmas party about 25 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 literally threw it away and went back to Plan A.

After I put on “the outfit,” I realized it would have been a mistake if I had not worn it. 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 outfit” to the luncheon, I was less comfortable wearing it around the mall and my trench coat would hide “the outfit” 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 don’t 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 an old friend or acquaintance.

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 (25 for $5) 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 cleansing. 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 Jackie, who was 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 “the outfit.” There was a definite buzz in the air. Rick, 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 Rick, 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 30 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 Jackie, who said she loved my skirt, no one mentioned “the 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 food. 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 transgender, so it is likely that most of my co-workers shared the same thought. I guess being transgender did not make a difference.

What a great bunch of people I worked with!

Wearing New York & Company

Sister blogger Paula Goodwin glammed up for her support group Christmas party.

Facebook is Indeed Anti-Trans!

By Kandi Robbins

Kandi

I am a 61-year-old transwoman. Like many of you, legally I am male, but essentially, I am a woman. Life’s circumstances prevent me from going any further than this. As such, I have sought to build a female life that brings me pleasure and peace. I have become a serial volunteer all around Cleveland, working for The Cleveland Museum of Art, the Arthritis Foundation, the American Heart Association, the Diversity Center of Northern Ohio and this evening, I will be working one of the principal fundraisers for the Providence House. Providence House provides much needed crisis nursery services for those in desperate need in our area. There are many other places I work as well.

My mission in life is to demonstrate that we can live in the mainstream as women, even though we are unable to go down the difficult road to transition due to the circumstances of our lives.

I have also been able to work actively as a model and an actress as Kandi. I am Kandi.

I reluctantly started a Facebook account about a year ago as it was the principal means of networking within the communities mentioned above. I do have a male Facebook account. It is principally inactive and was only established to belong to a certain group I am in. I rarely use it.

My fear in setting up Kandi’s Facebook account was that Mark Zuckerberg and his algorithm would out me, possibly costing me my job and potentially creating issues for my family that they do not deserve. So when I set up Kandi’s account, I used a nearby suburb as my location (not my actual location) and selected a different birthday because I feared by accessing either account from the same location (our home), Facebook would cross-pollinate the two. In the meantime, I have built significant contacts through my cross pollinate account that are quite valuable to me.

Fast forward to December 9, 2022, and someone hacked my account. Facebook locked it down to “protect” me. And they will not unlock it without a legal form of ID. Kandi, legally, is not a person, so legally, she has no identification. I have tried on numerous occasions to submit my driver’s license with an explanation. I have done the same from my male Facebook account.  

I have sent numerous emails to Facebook to various email addresses I could find online. I have tried calling. I have provided my legal male information alongside my female information, at great discomfort to me. Bottom line, they will not offer me (nor anyone else) the ability to contact them. They simply reject my submission time after time with no explanation or other option to prove who I am. A more arrogant organization does not exist.

Any of their “help” can only be accessed as a member and being locked out, I have no access. (Catch 22)

There are millions and millions of us on Facebook with the same potential situation. If I did not have so much invested in these contacts, I would simply walk away and continue to distain Facebook for the scourge that it is.  

Facebook has locked me out simply because I am transgender. At least that is how I see it.

If you can offer any suggestions, you can reach me through my blog, Kandi’s Land, listed on the right side of Femulate’s screen. Thank you.

For further reading, Femulate has addressed this issue in the past, notably here, here and here.

Wearing Cynthia Rowley

Pamela Ray Christmas shopping at Locationan outlet centre in Perth, Western Australia.

Mondays

Mondays have a bad reputation. To counteract Mondays’ notoriety, I invite you to view this remarkable Christmas-themed commercial from J&B. (Thank you Anna María for alerting me to this ad.)

Wearing Rue La La

Leslie Langford sighs, “I wish I had a Christmas party to go to where I could wear this dress. I think it really suits me.” (Yes, it does, Leslie!)

So what did you become when you grew up?

I did not become a mommy, a fashion model or a singer in a rock 'n' roll girl group. Although I continued to dress like one whenever I could.

Meanwhile, I got through high school, college and law school still not sure what I wanted to do when I grew up. I had no love of the law and only went to law school because I did not know what to do after I graduated from college. My father suggested I follow his brother/my uncle's footsteps and become a lawyer. Although I got my law degree, I never practiced, but I did follow my uncle’s footsteps because he was a crossdresser, too.

My father worked at the comic book factory and brought home comic books and Sunday funnies that the factory produced. That influenced me to write and illustrate my own books, culminating is a Mad magazine copycat called Crazy. 

My drawing skills were OK, but my writing skills were very good and many of my teachers and professors complimented me on my writing. So I took a journalism course in college and it did not take long to realize I did not want to be a journalist (although, as a class assignment, I got to see and report on Christine Jorgensen’s appearance at UCONN).

I continued to draw and write through law school and after graduation, I got a job writing for the ham radio organization, ARRL, and its prestigious magazine QST, a job I held for over three decades! 

After two years on the staff at ARRL, I was recruited to work as a technical writer for General DataComm or as I called it “Modems ‘R’ Us.” So I freelanced for the ARRL and technically wrote manuals for various companies until I retired in 2017.

My writing for ARRL (including best selling books) made me well known throughout ham radio world... a “ham radio legend,” which is what a fellow ham called me right to my face one day.

All during that time, I crossdressed. Eventually joining a support group where, of course, I edited the group’s newsletter. And eventually doing outreach and mixing it up with the civilians in public with me en femme and them en whatever.

Then I became a blogger. Invented the word “femulate” to give my blog a name and have been writing it for the past 17, going on 18 years! 

I’m still not sure what I want to be when I grow up, but I do enjoy being a femulating blogger, so maybe that is what I want to be when I grow up. 

And so it goes.

Wearing Venus

Rhonda Williams in the lobby of the Palm Beach Hotel. 

(Rhonda blogs at Rhonda's Escape)

What do you want to be when you grow up?

On Monday, the local morning television show had a report about a local toy store. The story began in the Disney princess department where you can purchase princess dresses and accessories for your own little princess. 

The reporter intimated that girls and boys would enjoy shopping in that part of the store! Then the reporter became excited when she spotted a toy cleaning playset (broom, dustpan, mop, etc.)... the perfect gift for her son, who loves to clean up!

Reminded me of my year in kindergarten.

For play time, my kindergarten class of about 30 boys and girls was divided into five unisex groups. Each group took turns each day playing in different play areas: sandbox, toy blocks, art, play house, etc. 

When it was my group’s turn to play house, us boys played at being mommies, never daddies. Some of the male mommies donned frilly aprons and “cooked” in the play kitchen, while other male mommies tended to the babies ― bottle-feeding Betsy Wetsy dolls and changing their diapers after they wet. When Betsy was dry, male mommies could push their babies around the classroom in doll carriages.

In addition to the frilly aprons, there was a toy box containing pocketbooks, high heels, lady’s hats and adult-sized dresses. There were not enough items to completely outfit each mommy, so we would select just an item or two for our femulations. (I usually tried to get a pocketbook and a pair of high heels.)

None of the male mommies rebelled at being feminized (by our two female teachers) and some of us really got into it by affecting “female” characteristics, such as speaking in a higher pitch and using fabulous mannerisms.

Initially, I felt embarrassed playing a mommy, but it did not seem to bother the other boys, so I played along like a girl with the rest of the boys.

I wonder if any of my fellow mommies became femulators like me.

Wearing Nine West

Nancy Ng Santa’s Helper HO photo