My Favorite Angel

Who was your favorite angel?

In my opinion, Farrah Fawcett had more fans than the other two angels combined. She had the hair, she had the poster and she had the most publicity.

Despite Farrah’s popularity, my favorite angel was Jaclyn Smith. In my opinion, Jaclyn was more beautiful and sexier than the other angels. And she was the angel I wanted to be!

Fast-forward about ten years... I was attending my first transgender convention. A famous Hollywood makeup artist was at the convention doing makeovers for the attendees. After witnessing his demo in which he transformed an average-looking transgirl into a glamorous queen, I signed up for a makeover (it would be my first makeover ever).

During my makeover, I asked him which Hollywood actresses he had worked with and he rattled off a few names. Then I mentioned that I thought Jaclyn Smith was one of the most beautiful women among the current crop of stars (circa 1985). He responded that he had done Jaclyn's makeup a few times and that she had lousy skin that required a lot of work!

After bursting my balloon, he patched it up by adding that I had better skin than Jaclyn Smith!

Wearing Venus

Alex Newell

A Small-Town Salon for Femulators

Scarlett and Katie

Back in March, Slate published an article that flew under my radar until now. "Finding Femme – The quiet resistance of a small-town stylist for trans women and cross-dressing men" by Lily Moore-Eisenberg tells the story of a woman who is a feminine image consultant working out of the basement of her rural New England home.

I found the article while searching for something else on the Internet and I probably would have passed over it except that I recognized the name of the consultant's business, Scarlett's Makeovers, which is located in northeastern Connecticut

I saw Scarlett perform her magic at Fantasia Fair back in 2012 and later that week, I dined with her at an upscale restaurant in Provincetown. I broke bread with her again along with her femulating husband, Katie, a year later at One Big Event in Hartford.

So I just had to read the article about Scarlett and her thriving business. It was a good read and I am sure you will enjoy reading it, too.

Wearing Joie

Jake Manabat femulating on the California stage in 📺 M.Butterfly

Friday is for Femulating!

I See Nothing, I Know Nothing Dept.

Victoria kindly sent me this link at The Pegasus Archive, which contains hundreds of POW images in its Photo Gallery. The Gallery is arranged by country, camps and topic. Search the "Theatre" topic for possible femulations (like the one in today's "Femulator" slot below).

Glamulate Dept.

This week's glamulator is Alana, who recently underwent a glam makeover using the online app "Your Face on a Glamorous Magazine Cover In Seconds!"

What's Up Doc Dept.

I am going to a new (to me) doctor for a physical examination next week. If he sees the shaved parts of my body that males don't normally shave and asks why, should I admit I am trans or should I lie like a president?

Wearing a skirt or dress is not always a safe option for a crossdresser, but wearing manly garb like a pair of pants should not cause much concern. And if someone complains, just hit them with your purse. (Source: Pinterest)

A womanless wedding at Stalag XXIA (Copyright Michael Turnbull)

An Autumn Day in London, Part 3

Pizzas, Taxis and the M25

By Michelle Bowles

It was after 3 PM and except from a piece of carrot cake, I had eaten since a very early breakfast. We found a local Pizza Express that was very busy especially for a table for six. However, after a short discussion among the staff, we were shown downstairs. There were spare tables here, but the one we were shown was very close to a family of four already seated and I was a little apprehensive especially as I ended up sitting diagonally opposite and very close to their two young daughters. How long before there were sideways glances and questions to their parents about my gender?

Those glances never came and I felt better.

The conversation flowed and we talked about a whole range of things: pizzas, holidays, work situations, what a great day it had been and even makeup and moisturizers were discussed. And I am pleased to say, trans issues were not mentioned, so once again I felt just “one of the girls” and accepted as such.

Eventually we paid the bill, went to call a taxi and one of the boys asked me if I felt more confident after the makeover. I explained that I did a little bit, but I had felt quite confident beforehand. This was the only time during the day any reference at all was paid to my trans status and even then, this could have been asked of a female, too.

We had trouble getting a taxi for six as we made our way to another upmarket London store, Liberty’s. So I offered to walk and tube it so others could find a taxi more easily. This was a mistake as it took forever to get there and involved much walking and a bit of getting lost.

Eventually we got to Liberty’s to see their Christmas display, whereupon M and myself went downstairs to find the only ladies’ room in this multi-floor store. To add to this shortage of options, when we got there we found only three cubicles, a queue and not the best conditions. We were not impressed especially after the Harrods' toilets, which were palatial with large mirrors, hand cream and even perfume.

When we returned to the Christmas display, I decided to leave the others to try on some clothes on another floor, but after a long look I found very little except a skirt, but at £135 ($169), I was not going to buy it! After trying it on, I thanked the lovely assistant, rejoined the others and after a quick look on other floors, we decided to leave and made our way back to the cars. By the time we started our drive home, it was close to 9 PM.

M and I arrived home around an hour and a half later. I changed back to male mode, but the others hadn’t arrived, so they did not meet my male half.

And that was it!

Soon gone, but I had spent over 14 hours en femme doing pretty ordinary things (apart from a Harrods' makeover). I had been treated as a female all day. The only exception to this was one of the boys referred to me as “he” a few times and even once called me by my male name. Although a little disappointing, I can understand this in a way, as I have male body language, am tall and still have a masculine voice (despite my efforts). M was word perfect in this respect ― “she” or “Michelle” every time.

Only on a couple of occasions, was I given a second glance to my knowledge, but I am about 6’3” in heels, so any similarly tall female might experience this too. I was “Madam’d” at least twice and the staff in the restaurant didn’t even do a double-take nor did those girls sitting about three feet away.
I know there has been a lot written in Femulate recently about being “read” and how it shouldn’t matter. In a way, that’s true, but I aim to present as just another woman and it disappoints me if the evidence suggests that I have not achieved that.

I received compliments on my clothes and makeover, which I can heartily recommend (tell them Michelle sent you) and the other girls made a number of helpful suggestions on products and alternatives. I know I’m too male in returning these compliments; I don’t do it naturally, probably worried that it comes over as flirting, but I must try harder. There were also compliments on how I could walk all day in the boots, which surprised me, too.

I reckon it was my best day en femme rivaling or perhaps beating my Ascot outing over two years ago (see previous Femulate article for details). As I left for home, I thanked M for organizing the day and how kind and patient she (and everybody else) had been. She said she had really enjoyed it, too, and “Just wanted people to be happy.”

My one regret was no time to go into women’s clothes shops, but another day is to be planned soon and this time my spouse is in, too, and we are going to hit those clothes shops!

Part 1 of Michelle's day in London appeared here on Tuesday and Part 2 appeared here yesterday.

Wearing Venus.

Oliver Thornton femulating in an American stage production of The Taming of the Shrew.

An Autumn Day in London, Part 2

Julia Roberts and Princess Di

By Michelle Bowles

Michelle before Harrods and before her makeover

We got to London in two cars, M and me in one, the remaining four in the other. By now, I had been “dressed” and conversing with others for almost two hours and felt very comfortable in the role. So much so, that when I parked and emerged from the car. I didn’t even think about anybody giving me a second glance and sure enough, they didn’t ― they just carried on with their conversations and totally ignored me. (I must be losing my touch, I had hoped some of the men might have given me a second look.)

We had a 5 to 10 minute walk to the tube and this involved walking past a queue of hundreds of people waiting for an exhibition to open. In the past, I would have been daunted by this, but once again, I was not even aware of a second glance as we did so.

Our first stop was Peter Jones in Sloane Square, an upmarket area of London and we went up to the café on the shop’s top floor. Here the assistant said, “Yes, Madam?” as I got to the front of the cake and coffee queue; the first “Madam” of the day is always nice.

I recommend this café if you are in London. If you’re lucky, you can get a good view over the rooftops and the coffee and cake was wonderful. Suddenly though, it was after 12 and we had under an hour to get to Harrods. With one of our number not able to walk quickly and finding climbing the stairs on the tube difficult, this was cutting it close.

However, we arrived outside Harrods just in time. I did delay the group a little more by insisting having my photo taken at the entrance. Now, I know I need to work on my stance for photos, but at least I remembered to smile. I also look a little black and grey (M suggested some good alternative clothing ideas which I have noted), but generally I was happy with what I wore. The only exception to the black and grey was the red bag, which I had seen at an exhibition the last time I was in London and had to buy it; this was its first outing.

In hindsight, I should have worn a red coat I also have, but I’m always worried about standing out, so I took the “dress down” option. My wife paid me a great compliment by later wearing the same outfit except for adding the red coat, my black jumper and her shoes rather than my boots. I got a number of compliments on the boots. M even compared me to Julia Roberts!

We went to the fourth floor where Marcello, my makeup artist, was ready for me. M came along to advise.

Michelle after her makeover

Marcello asked what makeup I was wearing and then asked which celebrity’s look I most liked. I really couldn’t think of anybody, but I did say I liked the way newsreaders present themselves. M suggested Princess Di. What!?

Now I realized why M came with me. First saying that I reminded her of Julia Roberts - admittedly it was mainly the boots – and now saying I could be made up with a Princess Di look. Women are so nice to each other sometimes, I just can’t believe a man would complement another in the same way unless there was a put-down at the end of it.

Marcello was a master and he worked his magic as he removed my make up and applied moisturisers, foundation, blusher, eye shadow, eye liner and mascara. I paid deep attention as he went about his work and he was always discussing what he was doing and what I wanted.

What was a one-hour appointment had taken an hour and a half. Finally, we had to decide on the lipstick. We went out to the main beauty area and discussed the various shades and options and he used the lipsticks on my hand to demonstrate the best color. We went back into the room for the application of the lippy. The effect was quite stunning; the smartphone photo doesn’t do it justice.

While I took in the final effect, Marcello took out a drawing of my face and applied the makeup on the drawing indicating which products he had used where. This too was a work of art.

By now he had spent almost two hours with me. We finally went to the till to buy some of the products. Although the charge for the makeover is deducted from the price of the makeup, the makeup is not cheap. Buying everything would be out of the question, so I resisted the temptation and limited myself to foundation and some concealer.

Other makeup artists came over to discuss what Marcello had done and I felt a bit like a model. We said goodbye to Marcello and as he hugged me, he seemed close to tears and I think M and myself were not too far off doing the same. It was an emotional experience. I e-mailed him later to thank him again and he replied with some really nice and encouraging comments.

We rejoined the others, who had been waiting for far too long, but they all said it didn’t matter when I apologized for the delay and some nice comments were passed on my new look.

Part 1 of Michelle's day in London appeared here yesterday and Part 3 will appear here tomorrow.

Wearing Fashion to Figure.

Her slip is showing (Femulating in the 1970s).

An Autumn Day in London

By Michelle Bowles

Part 1: Here Come the Girls (and Two Boys, Too)

Four or five years ago, I told a work colleague about my feminine side; a decision I did not take lightly. (Do we ever?) After occasionally discussing this further in subsequent conversations, she said we must go on a girls’ day out for makeovers in London. I, of course, agreed that this would be a very good idea. However, the months and eventually years went by and it never quite happened.

My wife knows my friend (I’ll call her M) and we have met up a few times socially. But my wife did not know that M was aware of my feminine side.

A few weeks ago, M came to our house and the three of us went out for lunch. At the end of the afternoon, we dropped M at the train station for her to return home and as we were saying our goodbyes, she said to my wife, “I want to take X (she didn’t use my femme name; she didn't even know it) for a full makeover at Harrods in London. It would be great if you could come, too.”

This was a bit of a surprise as M obviously thought I had told my wife that M knew. My wonderful and understanding wife just took it in her stride, as she does and said if we could arrange it on a Friday (her day off) she could come.

There was not much said later, but my wife mentioned that she’d come if she could, but didn’t mind if I went with M on my own. Again, M and I tried to arrange it, but with summer holidays and other commitments it didn’t happen until a date came up in late October which M, my wife and I could make.

There were still many things to arrange (how to get there, where to change, etc). M also asked if some of her friends could come. I hadn’t met any of them, but was assured they were really nice people and would be very discrete. I had no problems with this but it did mean things had become slightly more complicated.

My wife couldn’t decide whether to come and asked me what I thought. I said it was entirely up to her, but as I was not sure of what to expect, perhaps not this time and if it goes well, we can do another trip to London in the future. She agreed that this was probably the best option.
M made an appointment at Harrods for the makeover and as the day approached, it seemed to be all systems go.

I had realized there was no way I could change at home as my wife and I were not alone in our house, so I asked M if I could change at hers. She said I could and so the previous night, I got all my things together and put them into two bags ready for the morning. What with showering, breakfast, the journey to M’s and then the 60 minutes or so to get ready, if we were going to get to London at a reasonable time, I’d have to set the alarm at 6 AM.

This was early, but I had no problem and duly arrived at M’s at 7, as we had arranged. It was still quite dark, but this just added to the atmosphere. M answered the door and showed me to a room to change with a bathroom just next to it – perfect, especially as the room had loads of mirrors, flat surfaces and good lighting – what more could a girl want?

There was just one final, embarrassing thing. I needed to tell M about my femme name and also had to ask to be referred to as “she” during the day. She responded, “Oh yes, I meant to ask you what it was.” For the rest of the day, I was Michelle to M, and she referred to me as “she.”

I went to the bathroom for my final close shave and wash, but as I attempted to leave the room the handle fell off the lock and I couldn’t get out. Fortunately, after a few shouts and knocks, I was heard and rescued (I was imagining having to climb out of the window and back in!)

Apart from this minor setback, everything went well in the changing department and I could hear others arriving as I was getting ready. I finished in about an hour, which is good for me, but I had to ask M if she could “sort my hair out.” This is always the most difficult thing for me.

She came in, said I looked fantastic and set about trying to improve my hair, making a pretty good job of it. She offered me a nice (and expensive) coat if I wanted to borrow it. I tried it on, but it was at least a size too small. A scarf was also offered, but although it was really nice, I was worried about feeling overdressed, so I declined it.

The next thing was perhaps the most daunting part of the day. None of M’s friends had ever met me before and I was to be introduced to them for the first time as Michelle. They were in her lounge area upstairs and as I climbed the stairs, my heart was in my mouth; but they just greeted me as they would any female. It was a really nice moment. There were two women and a recently wed male couple; we then chatted for a while before we left for the journey.

It was a beautiful October morning and a day in London was ahead.

Wearing Tory Burch.

Kuba Molęda femulates on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.

I line

Despite doing my makeup for over 50 years, I have never been able to do eyeliner like the woman in the accompanying photo. I figured that it was just eyeliner incompetent, however, when I have had makeovers done by various professional makeup artists, they have never achieved "the look" either.

So now I wonder if there is something physically wrong with the shape of my eyes that prevents them from ever achieving that look. To be specific, I do not have trouble with the eyeliner on the upper and lower lids. The problem is mating the two lines together at the outer corners of my eyes.

C'est la vie!

Wearing JustFab.

Four fellows attending Grazer Tuntenball in Berlin, 2016.

Alan's Day Out

I don't know how this one slipped under my radar, but Lynn gave me a heads-up about a femulation article that appeared in the August 2001 issue of Marie Claire. In that article, actor Alan Cumming, who has a history of femulating in various roles on television and stage, femulated among civilians for a day to see how it felt to do a series of every day things as a woman as compared to doing the same things as a man.

Been there, done that, if you know what I mean. I found it interesting, but not surprising that Alan's experience as a woman in public were similar to mine.

Lynn sent me a link to seven photos from the article [file names Marie Claire 6/01 (1) to (7)], but not the text of the article. I searched high and low for the text, but could not find it. If anyone has it or knows where it is, I'd love to see it and share it.

And may all your days out be wonderful!

Wearing English Factory (top), Preen By Thorton Bregazzi
(skirt and sunglasses) and Bionda Castana (shoes).

Alan Cumming in British television's The Runaway (2011).

Photo Memories: My First Makeover

As I wrote here Monday, before they deteriorated, I scanned nearly 300 photos from the 1990s for preservation. I had not viewed most of the photos in years and they brought back a flood of memories that I will share in this and future posts.

By January 1995, I had been regularly attending support group meetings for over 5 years, but I was still closeted, that is, not going beyond the safe confines of the support group’s meeting place.

A few gurls in my support group attended First Event, an annual transgender convention held in the Boston area and recommended it to me as a way to expand my horizons. I was ready, so I registered for the convention and when the big day arrived, Elaine, another ham radio gurl who I knew as a ham long before I knew her as a gurl, drove us to the convention hotel in Natick, just west of Boston.

After settling in, I began exploring the hotel and here I am in the photo above, trying out the catwalk that was set up for the First Event fashion show. Wow, my hemline is short! I guess some things never change!

Later that day, I sat in and watched Hollywood makeup artist Jim Bridges perform a makeover on another First Event attendee. The transformation was amazing. I was so impressed that I made an appointment for a makeover late Saturday afternoon, so I would look my best for the Saturday night banquet.

It was my first makeover and I was a little nervous going in. How would I look? Would I be disappointed?

Jim's transformation of me was as impressive as the transformation I witnessed earlier. I literally did not recognize myself when he was finished. "Is that really me?" I wondered when I looked in the mirror for the first time after the makeover.

After the makeover, I returned to my room to get dressed for the banquet. I was anxious to show off the new me and when I finally made my grand entrance, my friends and acquaintances did not recognize me either… in a good way.

Wearing ML Monique Lhuillier.

Singer Jordan Gray