Throwback Thursday: My Quest

Another post from the past – nearly nine years ago, December 14, 2011.

In 1983, I purged everything related to femulating.

Not only did I discard replaceable items like clothing, wigs, makeup, etc., I also discarded irreplaceable items, primarily my collection of photographs. As a result, I no longer own a single photo of myself en femme prior to age 32.

Starla has been scouring the Internet searching online high school yearbooks for photos of high school femulations. She has sent me her findings and I have posted some of them here in the past.

Last week, it occurred to me that there were yearbook photos of me en femme (at the ripe old age of 25) attending my law school’s Halloween party. I lost the yearbook (it went out with everything else in the great purge of 1983), but I wondered if Starla could find it online.

I asked her, but after searching her resources, she responded that she could not find it. She explained that the majority of online yearbooks are of the high school variety; only a few college and graduate school yearbooks are online. She suggested contacting my law school.

I phoned the law school library and asked if they had the yearbook in their stacks. They checked and as it turned out, they had it! They welcomed me to visit the library to view it and photocopy anything I wanted.

Wednesday, I dressed en femme. I wore my black dress with the sequins pattern at the neckline that I bought from Ideeli, nude pantyhose, my new Nine West patent red and black Mary Janes, a new matching red bag from ShoeDazzle, earrings, bracelet, and watch. I topped everything off with my white fake fur coat and was off to Springfield to visit my alma mater.

(I might mention here that although I graduated from law school, I never practiced in the profession – not for one second. My first love was writing and while I waited for the results of the bar exam, I got a job as a writer and never looked back.)

An hour later, I arrived at the law school, parked the Subaru and walked to the school entrance.

There was a security guard station at the entrance. The library is not open to the general public; only students, alumni, faculty, and attorneys can gain admittance. I explained to the guard that I was an alumnus and she asked me for a photo ID. As I extracted my driver’s license from my purse, I told the guard that I was trans and that I looked a little different than the photo on the ID.

She said, “You're not the first.”

After she logged me in, I walked down the hall to the library. It was deserted. Final exams were underway and I assumed most of the students were in the classrooms filling up blue books. (Do they still use blue books?)

The library staff had set the yearbook aside for me, so they did not have to search the stacks again. I just had to fill out a simple form to borrow the book.

I found a comfy chair in the library lounge to cuddle up with the book and recall the past. I was sure that there were two candid photos of me attending that Halloween party 35 years ago en femme and I was a correct.

I wish I had my computer scanner to copy the photos, but all I had access to was a copying machine. I did my best adjusting the darkness to capture the best image and the result accompanies this post.

By the way, you find me in the photos wearing my first wig (purchased at a local Frederick’s of Hollywood store), my mother’s skirt (that I borrowed surreptitiously), my own boy mode sweater, a blouse of unknown origin and my first pair of Mary Janes.

And I was so young – so young that it brings tears to my eyes!

My Wednesday en femme did not end at the copying machine in my alma mater's law library.

As I exited the law school, I asked the security guard, who had been very personable so far, if she would take my photo. She was happy to do so and was even willing to go outdoors to take it.

It was a beautiful December day, so we decided to do the photoshoot outdoors. The photo accompanying this post is from that shoot.

I thanked her for her hospitality and left the school. I drove home and my day en femme was over.

All the people (male and female) who I encountered were polite, often friendly and always helpful when I needed their assistance. I don’t know if I passed or not and whether passing had anything to do with their reaction to me.

I have reached a stage in my life in which passing is not a deal breaker.

When I prepare to go out, I do my best to be passable. I try to be impeccable in my dress and makeup and make sure that there is not a hair out of place, but once I am out the door, I stop being concerned about passing.

I used to be very shy when I was en femme fearing that everyone I encountered would read me. If they seemed ok with me, then I would open up and be more like myself, but if they were not ok with me, I would get out of Dodge as quickly as possible

Now, I am personable to everyone I encounter. I don't wait to see how they react to me. I believe that by being personable and outgoing, it surprises people and they react positively whether they read me or not.

And I don't even think about it. That's the way I am in boy mode and now that I am free of the shackles of passing, I can also be myself in girl mode.

Wearing New York & Company

A Liverpool lad femulating in a 2018 stage production of Bugsy Malone

The Great Purge of 1983

I have been femulating for most of my life and I only purged once, so I called it “The Great Purge of 1983.”

In the trans timeline, 1983 was Mesozoic. There was no Internet and there was very little published information on the subject. We were flying in the dark and grasped any bit of information we could find.

One legend was that you would stop femulating when you fell in love and got married. I bought into that legend because I stopped femulating after meeting and falling in love with my future wife and did not femulate for over two years while we dated and became engaged.

About a week before our wedding, I purged everything because I assumed I was done with femulating. Not only did I discard replaceable items like clothing, wigs, makeup, etc., I also discarded irreplaceable items, primarily my collection of self-taken photographs. As a result, I no longer own a single photo of myself en femme prior to age 32.

Our wedding was in late September. One month later, we were invited to a Halloween party and I dressed as a woman.

And so it goes.

Natalee

Harvey Korman (center row, left) femulating on a 1969 episode of television's The Carol Burnett Show

The Great Purge of 1983

I started femulating regularly around the age of 12. Whenever I was home alone, I would experiment with my mother's and sister's wardrobes and cosmetics.

Soon, I began building my own female wardrobe. Initially, I collected discarded clothing or sewed my own (simple A-line miniskirts) using remnants that my mother had in her sewing nook.

The first item of female clothing that I purchased were three pairs of nylon stockings. I went to the hosiery store downtown and told the saleswoman that I was buying stockings as a gift for my tall girlfriend. The saleswoman did not bat an eye and I scored my first purchase of female finery with ease.

After that successful shopping trip, I used my tall girlfriend excuse to expand my wardrobe. And whenever Halloween was on the horizon, I could use that holiday as an excuse to try on and buy wigs, dresses, shoes, and foundation garments.

In addition to building a wardrobe, I clipped femulation-related items from newspapers and magazines. I also had a couple of books including the eye-opening A Year Among the Girls by Darryl Radnor and a couple of issues of Drag magazine. And there was also my collection of Polaroids, which documented my progress on the Good Ship Lollipop.

I stored everything in boxes hidden behind boxes containing my American Flyer train set, all stored behind the false back panel of a built-in bookcase in my bedroom.

Due to that limited storage space, I occasionally whittled down my collection - out with the old to make room for the new - but I never purged everything while I was actively femulating. I loved being a girl, so there was no desire to purge.

Fast-forward to 1983.

I had been dating my future wife for over two years and during that time, I stopped femulating. I had no desire to femulate and I bought into the old wives'/husbands' tale that when a femulator got married, he stopped femulating.

Realize that there was little information available to vent that tale. There was no Internet as we know it today and the serious literature on the topic was minimal and hard to find in my neck of the woods.

So about two weeks before our wedding, I purged everything.

One month after our wedding, we were invited to a Halloween party. I femulated for the event (see photo) and bought a new dress, wig, pantyhose, bra, girdle, high heels, etc. for the occasion. I was back on the Good Ship Lollipop and never stopped femulating again.

In retrospect, I so regret the purge. I could replace the wardrobe (which I did), but I could never replace my Polaroids.

Speaking of Polaroids...

My Friday post about Polaroids moved sister Mindy to dig out some of her old Polaroids and send them to me.

Mindy recalls that Polaroids were the only way we could keep our remembrances. She suggested that other readers might have old Polaroids that they would like to share for viewing here.

Great idea! So if you would like to share, please send me your instant photographs and I will post them here in the very near future.