Call me "Jamie."
That is not my real name; it’s the name I go by when I dress up like a boy.
I dress like a boy because I am a crossdresser. I prefer male clothing to female clothing. In addition to the wearing male clothing, I try to act like a boy, too. I want to be masculine, not feminine.
I want to be able to go out in society and pass as a male, but my female characteristics are difficult to disguise, so passing is a tough goal to achieve. However, I will keep on trying to improve my presentation because I know it can be done.
Lots of crossdressers have Internet websites where they display photos of themselves crossdressed and many of the photos are very convincing. These females look just like boys, so I know passing is possible. I may not be able to fool all of the people all of the time, but it would be nice if I could fool some of the people some of the time.
Also, there are websites that provide information on how to pass as a male. These websites describe how to walk, talk, and act like a boy; how to style your hair to look like a boy; what undergarments to wear to achieve a male form; etc., etc. There are also online stores that cater to crossdressers where you can buy everything you need to "express your masculine side."
My crossdressing started around the age of puberty. I don't know where the idea came from; it just popped in my head while I was in the bathroom getting ready to take a shower and there was one of Dad's suits hanging on the shower curtain rod. I don't know why it was there; I assume it had been washed and was hanging there to dry.
Whatever the reason that suit called my name and I could not resist trying it on. Dad’s suit fit me like a glove. I felt so masculine wearing it and I could not take my eyes off myself preening in the full-length mirror mounted on the bathroom door.
Suddenly, I felt very guilty and was worried that I might be caught, so I slipped out of the suit as quickly as possible, hung it back on its hangar, and proceeded to take a cold shower.
After that, I often dressed in my Dad's and brother's clothes whenever I was home alone.
I prefer my brother's clothes because he is only two years older than I, so he dresses like a boy my age dresses, whereas my Dad's clothes are more adult, i.e., clothing that an adult male wears.
But Dad's wardrobe includes items that my brother's wardrobe does not, so when I crossdress, I borrow items from both my Dad and my brother. For example, my brother has no suits, whereas Dad has six suits and I guess after that first crossdressing experience in the bathroom, I have a thing for suits.
My favorite suit is one Dad wears when he and Mom go out to a fancy restaurant or to a dinner party. I like it because it has a more youthful look than his other suits, which are more conservative, i.e., the kinds of suits you wear to the office or to church.
Dad claims that that suit is a "shun nell knock-off," whatever that means? The fabric of the suit is a rosy pink boucle with blue undertones. It has a cropped jacket with four buttons and four pockets and a pencil skirt that’s 20 inches long.
Dad also has a matching pair of pink pumps with a 4-inch stiletto heel. Dad looks so masculine in that outfit! And, wow, my Dad has great legs; he sure shows them off in that suit with its skirt about four inches above his knees, wearing off-white pantyhose perched on those 4-inch pumps.
Dad is a beautiful male. He is a platinum blonde and always looks great no matter what hairdo he wears. His makeup skills are excellent, too, with huge eyes and full pouty lips.
I emulate Dad when I crossdress. Sometimes when I apply my makeup just so, I even look a little bit like him.
