Pants 10, Skirts 0

By Gina V

Back in the late 70’s, if myself and/or my chums ever had occasion to hear Billy Joel’s “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me” on the radio, upon the hearing the line “a bright orange pair of pants” we could not suppress a schoolboy snigger. At the time “pants” was not another way to describe trousers for us Brits, but rather referred to what laid beneath. 

Not only was it acutely embarrassing for most to mention one’s unmentionables back then anyway, but the male vogue (for want of a better term) of that era was Y-fronts – which were somewhat unflattering to put it mildly!

It took a while for the word to enter our vernacular in the manner Americans used it. Probably (and not coincidentally) at a point where women were starting to wear trousers as often as they did skirts and dresses. And as such, the definition of “pants” implied they were a fashion option, as opposed to the traditional stuffy old things that men had no choice in wearing.

Even now in our “civilized” society, a man cannot wear a garment from the waist down that doesn’t have some form of division between the legs. Despite the efforts of French fashionista Jean Paul Gaultier and English football superstar David Beckham (among others) to offer an alternative that is actually better-suited to the male physique, resistance has remained rock solid. Even 20 years on, the latter is still ridiculed for once daring to wear a sari-style skirt in public!

It is the opposite case for women now in that their traditional garb of skirts and dresses have become (other than for more formal occasions) practically extinct. As a means of proving a point, while visiting the local supermarket at dusk on a mild autumn day, I decided to note what the first 10 women I saw go inside were wearing – with the above result. What were my thoughts on that? To use an appropriate contemporary British slang word for something that is considered rubbish: pants!

One of the fascinations for me as a crossdresser has always been to wear things that have been placed out of my reach simply because of the nature of my sexual organs. As a personal protest against being condemned as a man to wear trousers for life, I resolved that whenever possible, my femme alter ego would not pull on a pair of the damned things, And yet, many of my trans-sisters now seem more than happy to don them in preference to a skirt or dress in what I assume to be an attempt to femulate the woman of today.

I am aware that pants are more practical than even the most easily-worn skirts. But other than that or being some kind of women’s liberation statement, I still don’t understand why the latter are now shunned. In fact, where I live it has gotten to the point that if you happen to see a woman under pensionable age in a skirt while out and about, you can almost bet your bottom dollar it will be a member of the local Hassidic Jewish community!

What I find particularly concerning about all this is if I ever choose to live permane,ntly as a female in this day and age, then (other than changing my religion) unless I wore a pair of pants I would stick out like a sore thumb. And ironically be more at risk from unwanted scrutiny. 

If I ever did decide to bite the bullet in that regard, then I would rather they were in styles and fabrics that had a bit of flair and style about them and as such as those black skin-tight wet-look ones that have been fashionable the last couple of years. But then I would probably attract just as much attention than if I wore a skirt or dress. If not more so!

And just to add insult to injury: most if not all those women entering the supermarket had trainers or suchlike on their feet as well. Much like the aforementioned David Beckham’s Missus (see her quote on the right of the Femulate site), my view is that “flats” are for living in – not wearing! But that’s another story.

Wearing Nine West

Marie Sunshine, a Halloween femulator

(Cross) Dressing Your Age

Personally, I think that my legs are ok, but other people have convinced me that they are more so. My mother often said I had beautiful legs (and that “you should have been a girl with legs like yours”). My wife and other cisgender women have admitted that I have nicer legs than they do. 

I am tall, so my legs are long; maybe their length causes an optical illusion making them look better than they really are. I don't know, but I am not going to argue with success. If other people are happy with my legs, then I am happy with them, too.

So, I ask myself, “Since my legs are such a great asset, why not show them off?” I usually respond by wearing skirts and dresses with short hemlines (sometimes scandalously short hemlines) and high heels that are 2, 3 or 4 inches high.

When I add 4-inch heels to my 5-foot, 14-inch stature, I standout in a crowd topping out at an Amazonian 6 and 1/2 feet! So, when I am out in that crowd, some people may think I am an Amazon or I played for the WNBA; other people may think I am a man in drag.

One rule of thumb for passing is that you should crossdress your age, i.e., if you are an XX-year-old crossdresser, you should dress like an XX-year-old cisgender woman. At my age that means long skirts and lower heels or worse. By “worse” I am referring to the fact that these days cisgender women my age dress like cisgender men! Trousers, slacks and flats, not skirts, dresses and heels, is the norm especially among women my age.

I remember dining with four other T-girls in downtown Hartford. The place was full of 20- and 30-somethings, men and women alike. Do you know how many people I saw in the restaurant wearing a skirt or a dress? Two: one of the T-girls I was dining with and me! I did not see one cisgender woman in a skirt or dress.

To blend in that night, I should have worn slacks, not the short black skirt that I wore. And if I really wanted to pass that night, I should have worn flats instead of high-heeled boots, socks instead of pantyhose, a plaid shirt instead of an animal-print top, boxers instead of a panty girdle, a t-shirt instead of a bra. Also, I should have nixed the makeup and left my pocketbook, wig, and jewelry at home. Then, I would have passed easily, but as a man.

In my opinion, passing is overrated. If I have to make a choice between dressing to pass or dressing to thrill, I will choose dressing to thrill every time. Sometimes, I dress to pass, but that's no fun. For starters, when I dress to pass, I usually am not that happy with the clothing I wear. To make matters worse, when I dress to pass, I constantly worry about passing. I cannot enjoy myself out en femme. It is a real drag!

On the other hand, when I dress to thrill, I am very happy with the way I look and I can be myself because I do not worry about passing. What is interesting is that sometimes when I am dressed to thrill, I pass!

Here is one of my favorite passing-when-I-wasn't-trying stories.

Doing outreach at Southern Connecticut State University, I started the day in 3-1/2-inch stilettos, but just in case, I brought a pair of flats that I left in the car. After shopping at the mall before outreach and going to the first of two classes to do outreach, my 3-1/2-inch stilettos had to go, so I went to the car to fetch my more comfortable shoes.

As I walked through the parking lot, I saw a university dump truck parked right in front of the car. The driver was talking with another university employee standing next to the truck. Oh, damn, just what I needed, the classic transwoman nightmare, a Transwoman vs. Macho Guy Face-Off!

I was ready for the worst! Making a beeline for the car, I tried to ignore the guys, but the guy standing by the side of the truck greeted me with a very flirtatious, “Good afternoon,” while the guy in the truck smiled appreciatively and drove away.

They flirted with me! Wow – that was so unexpected!

So when I go out en femme, I am likely to dress to thrill and show off my legs rather than dress to pass. And if I do pass, then that is just an extra thrill.

Wearing Bebe

Eve, a lady in red

Someday Funnies

Wearing New York & Company

Scarlett, a femulating beauty in white

Ginger Takes on More

 Following up on “Ginger’s Take” in Tuesday’s post, I wrote to Ginger.

“Your response was revealing, but you really did not answer my question (or I worded it poorly), so let me try again. 

“What do gay guys think of girls like me? Do we amuse them? Do we disgust them? Do we impress them with out femulating skills? I ask because I found that gay guys at the few gay bars I have gone to don't seem too friendly. On the other hand, gay women seem to be more friendly.”

Ginger replied.

“Well, I'm probably not the best person to ask. I am a feminine gay man and feminine gays are a small minority in the population of gay men as a whole. Most gay men are masculine and are attracted to other masculine gay men. They don't ‘get it’ why or how gay men want to be feminine and/or why they are attracted to femininity. They don't understand why we don't transition into women. Because they don’t ‘get it’ (and because we are a small minority), they think we are freaks and resemble the homophobic image of what most gay men are like. They think we are the reason why the mainstream won’t accept and recognize gay men as part of the mainstream. We are attacked and beaten up by masculine gay men as we are by homophobic straight men. 

“Most crossdressers can’t pass, so if one goes to a gay bar they are not going to receive a warm reception. If you look like a guy wearing woman’s clothes, you (like feminine gay men) present a negative stereotype image. Most of mainstream society believes the majority of crossdressers are gay – and continue to believe it even after being informed that the vast majority are straight, married and have kids.

“There is an exception – drag queens and female impersonators are gay, but don’t crossdress when on dates with men. Crossdressing is their “job” not an expression of a need or desire to be feminine. 

“The lack of friendliness or even hostility you sense when you go into a gay bar isn’t your imagination – it’s real. Most don't like transgender people being part of the gay alphabet. ‘If a man completely transitions into becoming a woman and wants to date men, why then are they even aligned with homosexuals?’ they ask.”

Wearing Boston Proper

Australian femulator, Lena, in 1973 and 2011

Unquestionable Content

By Starla Renee Trimm

I'm still pretty much a 20th Century soul. Alhough I use the Internet every day, a lot of the more contemporary uses for the medium are of little interest or use for me.

One area in which I have been totally unschooled is the world of webcomics. Frankly, I don't even follow regular comic strips anymore (my knowledge of and interest in those pretty much ended with the demise of Calvin and Hobbes and the passing of legendary Peanuts cartoonist Charles Schulz). 

Sure, I have been aware of the existence of webcomics and have even sampled a few out of curiosity. I couldn't, if pressed, name one off the top of my head. But I have noted that there is a lot of talent out there on display in the medium.

I've also noted that there are several webcomics written and drawn by trans folks dealing primarily with trans issues. And some of the other webcomics out there not by or primarily about trans people may feature a character or two who happen to be trans.

One in the latter category is Questionable Content (QC) by a gent named Jeph Jacques. It is a “slice-of-life” type comic about the exploits of a group of young adults. I learned that there is a trans character in the comic after stumbling onto a few strips that popped up on my Pinterest feed. And the main story arc involving that character really spoke to me.

The main protagonist of QC is Marten Reed, an indie rock aficionado, who lives with a roommate (Faye, a young woman, who is his platonic best friend) and a short, anthropomorphized computer/robot named Pintsize.  (The QC universe is pretty much like ours, except that sentient artificially intelligent robots live, work and play alongside us.) It also features a supporting cast of friends and neighbors that has grown considerably over the years. (Mr. Jacques launched the strip in 2003).

One of those later additions to the cast is a redheaded trans woman named Claire, a library intern. Marten and Claire become friends and eventually lovers in a long arc scattered among other storylines. It is a very sweet story that I found at times cute, touching and inspiring.

The introduction of Claire earned both praise, condemnation and lots of “kudos for introducing a trans character... however, ...” criticisms. Apart from the usual cretins objecting to the mere presence of a positively-portrayed trans character, other readers appreciated the inclusiveness, but felt that the new character and storyline was shoe-horned into the strip in an “anvilicious” manner dominating things for too long as other storylines fell by the wayside or ended abruptly. (As well as being seen by some as a bit too “saccharine” for their tastes and out of place in the overall atmosphere of the QC world.)

Some trans readers welcomed the character, but found Claire and her relationship with Marten (and the world, in general) more than a little “too good to be true” and not representative of most trans women’s real-life “storyline.” 

Claire is very petite (the shortest and smallest, it seems, of the comic’s human characters), quite pretty and feminine, has a successful job, a supportive mother (with whom she lives) and brother and is liked and accepted by the few she is “out” to and apparently successfully “stealth” with those in whom she has not confided. 

And it is odd the way she almost immediately tells Marten, a cis male, of her gender status (when they are just starting to become casual friends) and the way in which he seems totally nonplussed by the revelation, eventually falling in love with her in spite of her unconventional anatomy. (It is never stated outright, but strongly implied that she is pre-op. The author will not comment on this and discourages forum speculation on the subject saying that it should not matter to us and is none of our business. “They’re called ‘private parts’ for a reason,” he likes to say.)

These are all valid points IMHO. In fact, there is one strip in which Claire speaks of the difficulties and dangers she faces on a daily basis as a transwoman, which makes you wonder, “Really?” because we never see any such obstacles or roadblocks. Claire seems to be living an almost perfect transgender existence, sailing through life while many in the real world regularly encounter storms on their seas.

Is depicting such a nice life so bad? Sure, we all know that reality doesn’t work like this and Claire's experience is not typical. But must all fiction be totally realistic? We sometimes need a little escapism – to see a world that doesn't really exist, but should. 

Hell, the Claire/Marten saga is not very realistic, but neither are sitcoms, rom-coms and romance novels. (Growing up in the 60s, I wanted to be one of the Brady kids, though I knew that such perfect families simply do not exist.) The Claire/Marten tory shows what it should be like for us – a world in which transgenderism is seemingly no big deal to others.

It’s a “feel good” thing to read. I am in no ways a romantic; rather, a cynic dealing with the country I love falling apart (VOTE, people!!!) and the concurrent slow deterioration of my body due to Parkinson's Disease. And yet, I found myself grinning at the exploits of these two souls, rooting for them to end up a couple, feeling some strong emotions. (I cried a little at the scene in which Claire first disrobes in front of Marten; her hesitance and fear, and the beautiful way he responds.) Yeah, it's silly, but it was nice to experience a little joy in the midst of the crap pile a/k/a my life.

You can find Questionable Content at http://questionablecontent.net – all the strips are there. The primary Claire/Marten arc starts at about strip #2323 (when Claire first reveals her trans status to Marten) and culminates at about #2901, after which Claire becomes just an ensemble member rather than the focus and her trans status is hardly mentioned. (And even when it comes up, it tends to be dropped matter-of-factly, as in the very funny strip #4187.) 

If you find QC to your liking or at least interesting, go buy something on Mr. Jacques' website – QC-related stuff is his main source of his income,and talent like his deserves some financial support. Especially someone so trans-friendly.

Wearing Kirundo

Two for Tuesday

My Father Marianne

Min pappa Marianne is a Swedish film released earlier this year. 

The plot according to IMDb: “After breaking up with her boyfriend, 28 year old aspiring journalist Hanna decides to leave Stockholm and moves back to her parents and brother in her small hometown Alingsås. After getting a job at the local news station, her world is turned upside down when her father, who is a respected priest in the community, informs his family about his lifelong feminine side. Wanting to come out as Marianne, the whole family now have to deal with the consequences this might have for themselves, as well as for the community in large.”

You can view the film’s trailer on YouTube.

Looks very interesting! I hope it is available with English sub-titles real soon now. 

(Thank you, Aunty, for the wigs-up.)

Ginger’s Take

I have been exchanging emails with a new friend, Ginger, a feminine gay male. 

I asked him if I could pick his brain. He agreed and I asked him, “What do gay guys think of girls like me?”

Ginger responded, “Most gay guys would not be interested in girls like you -- most aren't interested in me and gay guys like me. Most gay men desire gay men who are masculine, like themselves.

“There is a lot of hatred masculine gay men have for feminine gay men. They blame us for society still not accepting homosexuality as normal and natural. They can be as mean, and even violent as homophobic straight men.

 

“Being a feminine gay guy, I like CDs because I have a lot in common with them. We both want to be pretty, and have our physical outer beauty appreciated. I love wearing and talking about wigs and hair; and while I don't want to dress in women's clothes to ‘pass’ as a woman, I do wear a lot of women's clothes to express my need to be feminine.”

Wearing Louis Vuitton

After reading my “First Time Out” post, Terry sent me this photo of herself wearing the same Newport-News dress that I wore my first time exploring the world en femme. 

My Female Dominated Profession

By Stephanie Julianna

First, I would like to apologize to all the wonderful people who commented on my first regular post here, “Longevity” back on September 4th. I did not see the Comment area at the bottom until my next article. So thank you for your compliments and encouragement. I hope to bring you quality articles that will educate, entertain and just maybe, inspire some to live the life that they have always wished for.

I was basically raised by my older sisters and grandmother. Mom had done her duty as a good spouse and had eventually given Dad a boy four and a half years after the girls and then she was done having children. My oldest sister was 10 years older and my other two sisters were seven years older. One of those two, Lonnie, was actually not a biological sibling and was Chinese, but she became every bit a sister and I loved her dearly.

Whenever any of them were going out the door, my Mom would say, “Take your brother with you.”

By the fall of 1957, my oldest sister entered nursing school at St. Vincent's in NYC, arguably the best nursing school on the East Coast. For me, she became my idol and I wanted to be a nurse just like her. Lonnie entered nursing school in Mount Vernon in '61 and again I made my case for wanting to be a nurse. Needless to say, in those days this was as remote a possibility as ever. The rare men in nursing were usually in the military, but not often found out in the civilian world. Even my uncle, my namesake and a surgeon in Southampton, Long Island, told me I should go for a MD. “Boys don't become nurses.”

Being dragged around by my sisters exposed me to amazing summer days on the beach, as an 11 and 12-year-old surrounded by the sweetest bunch of nursing students you could imagine. Lonnie and I would go to movies or Chinatown in NYC and like my older sister, regaled me with tales from the OR and ER at her hospital. That’s when I knew that I wanted to be a nurse more than anything. Nurses worked directly with their patients and even at that young age, I knew that they were closer to the action than many MD’s. 

Fast-forward to 1991, I had worked my way up to a VP in a company and was feeling unaccomplished in my life except for my marriage and three incredible kids, all in their teens at the time. My wife had returned to college after the youngest started school and graduated summa cum laude with a degree in accounting. By 1991, her salary eclipsed mine by a lot and she was blossoming as a confident woman with a true feeling of self-worth. She always loved accounting and she was living her dream.

That August in ‘91, I was driving to meet a customer and spotted the local community college from the highway. I had already researched it and knew that their nursing program had a great reputation. I got off at the next exit and doubled back to find out more. 

That night I told my wife that I was not happy with where my career path had taken me and I wanted to make a change. I asked her what she thought and she was supportive. But she said this had to be the last career change (I did have a few. LOL), “so think long and hard.”

I asked her what she thought I should do. 

“I think you would make a great nurse.” 

I almost passed out since I had never told her about that dream, ever! With her emotional and financial support over the next three years, I passed the nursing boards and on August 4th, 1994, received my RN.

Little did I know that my career would also fill a huge whole in my trans personality. Now I was working in a profession that required me to tap into all those feminine emotions that I had tucked away for family and personal use. I’d like to say that it was those honest and sensitive feelings that made me a better nurse valued by my nursing partners and patients. 

I will admit that I would have liked to have done the job as my complete self and I did push that envelope to the limit. In the mid ’90’s, I did manipulate my co-workers to dare me to come to work for Halloween as a female nurse. I tried to play my skills down by messing up my wig and telling them that I had a friend in the theater who would help me with the look. But I do think that many smelled a rat. 

My co-worker nurse told me I looked like her friend named “Georgette” and proceeded to call me that for the entire shift. Staff gave me a name tag that said, “Miss Diagnosed, RN.” They had no idea how accurate they were. 

My costume was a hit and both staff and patients loved it. Of course, I also won the costume contest that was held and voted on by the residents on the long-term care side. I worked sub-acute. It was another dream come true, if only for a day to work the shift as my complete self. Sad that it was seen as a costume when I would have loved it to be my everyday wear. Pictures with the dark hair are from that day. 

I actually did crossdress for most of my career, always wearing women's pull up tapered cotton pants, women's scrub tops, white panties, cami’s and always ladies’ white nursing shoes. Actually, I could only get my shoes in the women’s department because I could not get my shoes in the men’s. I wear a men’s 6-1/2 and a women's 8-1/2. I am sure that a few nurses I worked with suspected, but none seemed to care nor judged me and appreciated my care and nursing skills. 

I'm retired now and miss them dearly. The last picture is in my uniform as described with only my scrub top switched out for a decidedly feminine one. Oh, and the hair and makeup. Surprisingly, our CEO made it a requirement for all nurses to wear the lab jacket you see when not doing direct care. They only had women’s cut jackets and the three male nurses were no exception to this rule. When she retired so did that rule.

I had a 25-year career that I am very proud of. I have to say that without my wife’s support it could never have happened. It was life changing and I do miss it even though I have to say that retirement has its pluses. LOL

The moral of the story, never let your dreams go. Dreams can become a reality if you tweak them just right (and work really hard).

As always, I welcome your thoughts and comments.

Wearing New York & Company

Santiago Segura femulated Raffaella Carrá on Argentine television’s Tu cara me suena.
You can view the femulation on YouTube.

Ten Ten of Twenty Twenty

Biden 3, Trump 0

We voted early. Absentee ballots arrived on Tuesday, we filled them out on Wednesday and I deposited them in the ballot box in front of the town hall on Thursday.

Friday, I received a phone call from a worker on the campaign to reelect our congresswoman. She was looking for volunteers to make phone calls urging people to get out and vote and to specifically vote for our House Representative Congresswoman Jahana Hayes.

I decided to put my money where my mouth is and volunteered to make phone calls starting Monday evening.

Bubble Bath

I caught a new Harry’s razor commercial on television last night. I was not sure what my eyes had seen, so I fast-reversed it and replayed it. And my eyes did see what I thought I saw: a naked femulator sitting in a bubble bath shaving outdoors. She has a towel wrapped around her head, wears full makeup and tassel pasties on each nipple of her flat chest. 

Now that’s something you don’t see every day on network televsion! (You can see the commercial on YouTube; the femulator appears briefly starting at the 18-second mark.) 

Researching the matter, I learned that Harry’s commercials are known for their diversity. Last year, they had a commercial showing a bare-chested transman shaving with visible scars on his chest (at the 37-second mark).

Wearing Jonathan Simkhai

Femulator shaving with a Harry’s razor

Secret Identity

 Gina's post about selecting a femme name prompted me to consider my femme name and my identity.

In the closet, I did not need a femme name. There was just me, dust and spiders – no one was going to address me by name, so why bother wasting time coming up with one.

Slinking out of the closet, I suddenly needed a femme name because all the guys on CompuServe’s Genderline went by girl names, not their guy names. I quickly came up with the name “Staci” because it was derivative of my male name (Stanley > Stanislaus > Anastacia > Staci).

Haste makes waste. Although I went by Staci for a long time, I was never happy with my name selection. And then I discovered the name “Stana,” quickly dropped Staci and began introducing Stana to the world. It was unique (I must have known a half-dozen girls like us named Staci/Stacy/Stacie) and its roots were Slavic, just like me.

Among the people in our community I look up are the folks who are public about their femulating, that is, femulators without secret identities. I am referring to the likes of Michael/Miqqi Gilbert and Grayson Perry, who are well-known in their respective fields as guys, but occasionally (or often) present as gals and damn the torpedoes. And Vincent McDoom and Vladimir Luxuria, who present as women full-time, but are open about the fact that their sex is male.

I wanted to be just like them when I grew up and I believe that I have had some success in that regard. Like the folks I look up to, I am open about being a femulator, I am well-known in my field and I often present as a gal.

I just regret not going by my male name full-time like the folks I look up to. Then again, maybe it makes no difference – Google my male name, Stan Horzepa, and see the first image that comes up in the results!

And so it goes.

Wearing ModCloth

Walter Dickerson and Manuel Blanc (left to right) femulating in the 2016 French film Where Horses Go to Die.
You can view the film’s trailer on YouTube.

The Game of the Name

By Gina V

Greetings to you all! Stana has kindly invited me to contribute towards her most excellent site and as such, I hope I can keep up the high standard.

In another recent guest feature, I noted that the author revealed that her femme name had been changed since her alter ego first surfaced. Which reminded me that I have pondered on occasion if given names are a chicken-and-egg thing, as we are all bestowed one for life when we have no say in the matter 

So do our names influence us as we gain self-consciousness? Would a girl called Angelina start acting and dressing more femininely than one called Ann? Or a Dave get more macho as he grew older than a Damien? Johnny Cash touched on that in his song “A Boy Named Sue,” but I don’t know if anyone has done more extensive research into this subject?

My mother was determined to give me a (male) birth name she considered a a rarity. And it was, to the point where I went through my childhood like Tigger (the only one!). Looking back, I am fairly sure it was a factor in how my personality developed: not only as a bit of a loner (as one teacher noted in a school report), but a secretly narcissistic one as well. And who knows – maybe even a reason I found myself attracted to wearing lady things at an early age?

Anyway, most ordinary Joes (and Josephines) accept their lot and spend their lives bearing the name that for better or worse, they inherited.Some pick up a nickname from others along the way and may then use that in preference to their given one. That seems more often the case with men than women, but a school peer of mine was dubbed “Wilma” by a teacher (something to do with the Flintstones, apparently) and as a res,ult she is still known to one and all as that even today. 

But only a small minority, who may resent the name their parents have lumbered them with, ever seem to do something about it formally. For example, I once greeted a work colleague of mine as “Julie” only to be informed that henceforth she be addressed as “Adele”! 

Her stance seemed rather bizarre to me and I even mocked her behind her back. However, eventually it became second nature for me to think of and refer to her as she wished. I can’t remember if she explained her reasons for what she did, but I suspect she felt her given name was somewhat common in more ways than one (especially, if shortened to “Jools”) and decided to distance herself from that accordingly.

Despite  “transvesting” for over a decade, it had never occurred to me to give my femme persona a name as I was still locked in my own bubble. However, once a transperson (finally) emerges into the public arena, unless they have been blessed with a unisex name such as “Lee” or “Kim,” they are not likely to use their male one. And thus, unlike those named at birth, have a unique opportunity to give themselves one of their own liking. 

Some have simply elected for the female equivalent of their male name (e.g., “Paul”/”Paula,” etc), whilst others have grabbed the chance like kids let loose in a sweet shop to select something far more fanciful even if it didn’t particularly suit them.

So in my case, I found myself making that decision on the same night I made my full-blown public debut! My given name had no female version to my knowledge, so I hastily considered what might be the next-best quick-fix option, which was an anagram (or as near as dammit) of a girls’ name that already existed. I also decided I wanted something that reflected my look and aspirations. Therefore, it was convenient that one of my icons was the ultra-femme Italian actress Gina Lollobrigida (thanks to her, I was never tempted to choose “Dolly” or “Joan”). So, in the heat of the moment plumped for that.

Then shortly after, I discovered that the first transperson I met and befriended (who I later lodged with for many years) had a sister of the same name! Despite him usually referring to her by a family “pet” name, I felt somewhat ill-at-ease with the one I had chosen. And would have picked another had I known. However, I decided that like the average football team supporter, it was not the thing to do to change one’s allegiance simply because things were not going to plan. So I stuck with it.

In the years since, then I have realised that although not an ideal choice, thanks to the above situation, it is a name that exudes style and class and thus, transcends trends. So overall, I am okay with it. 

Had I more time to think about it, I might have gone for the name that my mother had in mind for me were – Lois. But by then, it was too late. If I ever change my name officially, then I could adopt that as a middle name. 

Things could have been far worse. I am eternally grateful that I never decided on something that was the in vogue at the time, but has since become somewhat of an embarrassment, e.g., “Kayleigh” or “Kylie!”

Wearing Veronica Beard

Alexandre Styker femulating in the 2013 French film Belinda and Me.
Search YouTube for “Belinda et moi” to view clips from the film.

Virtual Fantasia Fair

We live in a virtual world thanks to the Trump Virus, so it comes as no surprise that Fantasia Fair will also be virtual in 2020. 

If you have always yearned to go to Fantasia Fair, this year you can go for free from the confines of your computer closet. The virtual Fantasia Fair will include a Fashion Show, an SO Group Session hosted by Maureen Osborne and the world-famous Follies.

The schedule is:

Fashion Show – Tuesday, October 20, 8 PM ET

SO Session – Wednesday, October 21, 7 PM ET

Follies – Friday, October 23, 8 PM ET

And everyone is invited to participate in the Fashion Show and Follies. 

Click here for details.

Every time I attended Fantasia Fair, I never missed the Fashion Show or the Follies. They are the highlights of the Fair, so I am glad we will be able to experience them again this year.

Wearing ModCloth

Femulating Miss Fame