Whole Lot of Shaking Going On

My grocery shopping outfit!

Two days out as a woman in the same week was a rare and wonderful experience. And it will take more than one blog posting to tell you all about it, so bear with me.

Before I get into the details, I want to mention how supportive my wife has become. She does not bat an eye when I tell her I have plans as a woman. Although she still can't get over the time and effort I put into my femulation, she heaps praise on me when I show her how I look for each outing. And so it goes.

Thursday's plans were to have lunch with four trans girls I have known like forever and then do some shopping.

The weather was on the cool side, so I wore the same sweater dress I wore in January when I attended the Prudential Financial dinner.

Lunch was at an old Victorian house that had been converted into a restaurant. I had never dined there, but the other girls have and found that the staff was accepting. The staff treated us respectfully, but I noticed that the other diners noticed us.

You could not help noticing us. All of us are tall and some of us have voices that are decidedly manly.   So any civilian that looked twice could figure us out and many reacted that they did figure us out. Nothing untoward — just a lot of stares and amused looks, but it shook my confidence and I thought about abandoning the rest of my plans and return home.

I reconsidered when I realized that I was so close to the store I had to go to that it would be silly to drive back in boy mode on Friday. So I drove to Shop Rite to buy dog food and a gift card.

Although I was overdressed for grocery shopping, no one paid any attention to me. Perusing the pet aisle, I came out empty-handed because they did not have the brand of dog food I wanted, so I sashayed over to the customer service desk to buy the gift card.

I waited in line while a guy cashed in his winning lottery ticket and then it was my turn. The woman at the customer service desk was friendly and handled my request in an efficient manner without giving any indication that she knew that I was femulating. So I returned to my car with renewed confidence and proceeded to the nearby Stop & Shop to continue my quest for dog food.

No luck at Stop & Shop and no indication that anyone knew I was femulating... I was just an old woman who lived for shoes. Which just goes to show you that passing/blending when out in a group is much more difficult than being out solo.

This Stop & Shop was next door to the roz&Ali (nee Dressbarn) that I frequented when I was employed, so I decided to visit the store, say hello to the sales reps who knew me well and maybe find something that fits.

I walked in, began perusing the racks and the store manager, who I have known like forever, approached me and we got caught up since it was almost a year since I had last seen her. As she asked me if there was anything in particular I was looking for, I saw a dress on display to die for and said, "I love that dress."

She said that she was almost sold out and did not think I had any in my size, but she took that back when I told her I'm a size 14 and sometimes a 12 now. She found a 12 and a 14 and escorted me to the dressing room.

The 12 was a little tight, but the 14 was just right, so I opened my purse and bought the dress that I intend to wear to my high school reunion, if I decide to go as a woman.

Wearing New York & Company (Source: New York & Company)

📺 Bert Wheeler femulating in the 1931 film Peach-O-Reno.

A Very Good Day

A Perfect Size 12

My favorite girdle has seen better days. It is old and showing its age, so I shopped around and found its clone on the JCPenney website. After recently returning girdles and bras to Amazon because of sizing issues, I am not anxious to order online again. So I measured old reliable with a tape measure and took my figures to JCPenney in West Farms Mall after my lunch with Diana on Friday.

Entering the store, I found a vast unmentionables department, but searched high and low for the girdle without success. Revisiting the website when I returned home, I noticed that the girdle was available online only, a small, but critical detail I missed going in.

C'est la vie! So I started perusing the dress racks.

I found a beautiful green blazer on the clearance rack. Tried it on and it fit perfectly, but the sleeves were too short (or my arms are too long). Either way, I hung the blazer back on the rack. A 50-something woman noticed me trying on the jacket and made a sympathetic sad face when she saw the sleeve/arm-length problem.

She struck up a conversation with me as I checked out a beautiful to-die-for black and white dress, mentioning that she has so many black dresses, but she can't resist buying another. I said I am also a black dress girl. She commented that the dress I was wearing was also beautiful and I thanked her for the compliment.

The dress I was checking out was not available in my size, but considering that my last dress purchases (all size 14s) were a few months ago and that I was still losing weight, I thought that maybe size 12 would fit. So I took a size 12 to the dressing room.

I thought to myself that I was dreaming, that it would not fit and that I was wasting my time and I almost hung the dress on the discard rack when I found all the dressing rooms were occupied. Just as I considered abandoning it, a woman exited a dressing room and I took it over.

When I slipped on the dress and zipped it up, it fit perfectly (see photo). I was so happy! It looked great on me and even better, I have achieved something I never thought possible: I was now "a perfect size 12."

I took the dress to the cashier and found a half dozen people in line. While waiting patiently for my turn, a 30-something woman behind me said, "Hi" and held up the dress she was purchasing.

"Purple, right?" she asked.

"Yes, that is a very purple dress," I replied.

She was very excited about her find, told me how she was planned to accessorize it and asked me what I thought about her accessorizing plans. She complimented me on the dress I was buying as well as the dress I was wearing and we had a 10-minute conversation about fashion that ended when it was my turn to pay for my purchase.

The cashier, a 30-something woman, also complimented the dress I was buying. She asked if I was going to use my JCPenney credit card and I said, "Yes." However, I had not used the card in ages and the store had cancelled it.

She said if I applied for a new credit card, I could get a 20% discount on all my purchases that day. How could I refuse? So I began entering pertinent information into the mini-terminal next to the cash register. When there terminal asked for my annual income, I remarked that I had just retired and was not sure what my annual income would be.

She said, "You're too young to be retired."

I retorted, "My birthday was yesterday and I just turned 67."

She said I looked much younger than 67 and added that whatever I was doing, keep it up.

I thanked her for the compliment, finished applying for the credit card, paid for the dress, exited the mall and drove home.

I would say that I had a very good day out. I have had brief conversations with cisgender women in the past, but never had extended conversations like I did on Friday... not to mention I had three extended conversations on Friday. During each conversation, there was never that aha moment when the person you are conversing with suspects something is up. I am sure the cashier realized I was not cisgender female when I handed her my photo id to apply for the credit card, but she never said anything about it.

And so it goes.

Wearing Madeleine (Source: Madeleine)

Janek Traczyk femulates Anna Wyszkoni on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.

Friday Out

Friday, I had lunch with Diana at the Corner Pug Restaurant in West Hartford (yes, it's "pug" not "pub"). Maryann was a no-show.

I wore a Calvin Klein white sweater dress, Payless nude high heels, B. Makowsky black bag, assorted unmentionables and jewelry.

It felt good to get dressed up to go out among the civilians. There was not much civilian interaction at the restaurant except for our 40-something waitress who stared at me intensely each time she came to our table. Don't know if she was checking out my beautiful makeup application or if she was trying to figure out who was under all that makeup. I was not imagining this – there was definitely something going on. It did not make me uncomfortable – I was just curious as to why she was doing it.

A few patrons in the restaurant checked me out when I walked to the ladies' room and to the exit, but I'm used to that. When you are a 6 foot 2 inch tall woman, it occurs often.

After lunch and pleasant conversation, Diana kindly offered to take my photo for the blog (see the photo above).

After more than an hour, we assumed Maryann was a no-show, so we parted ways.

Wearing Alexis (Source: Intermix)

Jonathan Prince, Michael Zorek and Matthew Modine femulating in the 1983 film Private School.

Ladies at Lunch

By Michelle

In my previous articles I think I have mentioned the idea of a bucket list I have for my trans life. On that bucket list would be to go out with a group of cis females and be accepted as one of them. I had ideas of perhaps going on a hen night, which would be great thing to do, but I was offered an alternative, which I think is even better. My friend Irene turned 60 last month and she invited me to her lunch party at an Italian restaurant. That was an invitation I couldn’t refuse.

The plans developed and although some men had been invited, the date clashed with a football match and they decided to show their allegiance to their club and sent their apologies. So it was to be a women-only event and I was going.

What to wear of course was an issue – is it ever not? In the end, I decided to wear a cap-sleeved blouse and a calf-length grey skirt with my old favourite black high heel court shoes. Although I have some photos of me and the rest of the group, I don’t want to publish these without their permission and pixelating faces always looks a bit sinister to me, so I’m afraid I will have to paint a picture with words.

Irene asked if I could come already dressed and take her and another friend to the restaurant in my car. This would be relatively easy as my son was away that night so I could underdress and finish off in the car on the way. And this was my plan until the evening before the lunch when my son’s girlfriend phoned and asked if she could sleep at our home so that she didn’t’ have to drive home after going out for drinks with some friends. We had made this offer and we weren’t going to withdraw it, so this is exactly what she did. This complicated things a little as it meant that I could not apply makeup at home the following morning before I left. A minor irritant, but it just meant I had to do more on my “maintenance stop” on the way to Irene’s.

As it happened I left “underdressed” and was able to apply makeup and other finishing touches in a rest area en route. I arrived at Irene’s a few minutes late (fashionably late I like to think) and was introduced to Irene’s friend. We spent a while talking about various things which was very pleasant and settled down any nervousness I had. Then we left for our lunch appointment in the pouring rain.

After a 30-minute journey, we arrived at the restaurant and Irene went in to meet and greet her guests whilst I parked up and joined her a minute or so later. As I walked in, I was met by the group who were to be at the lunch and was introduced to everyone. This was it! I was now accepted as my female self and I felt I was “in for the journey.” We sang “Happy Birthday” to Irene and were led to our table.

Apart from Irene, there was one other trans person there who I know quite well, but I was determined to not sit near her so that we didn’t drift into trans conversations. I managed to do this sitting between two of Irene’s cis female friends. That was good manoeuvring by myself!

The lady between Irene and myself didn’t know anyone there (apart from the birthday girl) and we soon struck up a conversation finding we had common interests; cycling, cakes, choosing the right hair colour and an inability to fully understand mobile phones.

The meal was really nice and I was accepted as female by everyone. Trans issues never came up at all in any of the conversations I had. It was also nice being within a group collectively addressed as “ladies” and one of the women, when I said I wasn’t on Facebook, said “good girl.”

If I can make a little aside here, I think we are all looking for something a little different in each other when we dress, but for most of us, I think we want to be seen as just another woman and any evidence that we are is such a nice feeling. So when this lady said those two words, seemingly very naturally, my heart gave a little jump for joy. I have written before on the joy of being addressed as “Madame” in public and this was similar.

We were at the restaurant for three hours and the time just flew by. As a group of 13 women, occasionally being quite loud, we were of some interest to other diners in the restaurant, but nothing out of the ordinary and when we left, many of them smiled nicely and said goodbye to us. I was even invited to join a walking group and a monthly brunch group by other women in the party, which again indicates I had been completely accepted as a woman.

We said our goodbyes and I took Irene and her friend home. She was overwhelmed at how nice people had been at her birthday party and was close to tears with emotion, which was nice to see because she is such a lovely person. It was then time for me to make my way home and Irene asked if I wanted to change before I left, but I refused saying I wanted to complete the whole experience as a female. I gave her a hug and I made my way home, finding a deserted car park to change in as the light faded in the sky.

Everything about the day (except the awful weather) had been marvellous; the company, the meal, the restaurant, being asked to come and then being totally accepted as female.

Richard O'Brien