
What, no wig in M16's bag of tricks?
September could be an interesting month for Pisces (like me).
Pisces — February 20-March 20
Early in the month, confidence and career opportunities once again fall at your feet. The 21st ushers in a chance to attract others with your charisma, leading them to finally be on the same page as you. At month's end, a vacation has a destined feel, but it is what you don't plan that can revolutionize your life.
(Horoscope from Harper's Bazaar)
After posting My Life – Part 1, one of my blog readers asked if it was true. I assure you that all “My Life” postings are true.
With regards to my Mom acknowledging my femininity in Part 1, I don’t know if she was intentionally trying to make a woman out of me, but on countless occasions, she pointed out physical characteristics of mine that she thought were feminine. Intentional or not, her words stuck with me and probably had some affect on my psyche.
Regarding the image above, I admit that I never looked like the leggy blond in the image above, but the spoken words above are true or in close proximity thereof. And the same circumstances occurred on more than one Halloween occasion.
My girls’ night out last night was fun!
(That’s me in the photo just before I left the house.)
I met Diana at the Real Art Ways parking lot. She left her car there and I drove our mini-carpool to downtown Hartford to dine at Vito’s restaurant.
We found a parking place on the street right in front of Vito’s and when we entered the restaurant, we discovered that we were the first diners of the evening.
Our beautiful waitress, Ashley, addressed us as ladies and she could not have been more pleasant. I had their “Fiocchi Pasta,” which is
stuffed with four cheeses and pears in a sweet and spicy cream sauce. It was excellent.
The restaurant was very quiet. We were the only diners most of the time; a few diners finally trickled in just before we left the premises.
The last time I dined at Vito’s on a Thursday evening a few years ago, the place was near capacity attendance, so the contrast was stark. However, a party of 40 had reservations last night, so I expect things got livelier after we departed.
Back to Real Art ways for their monthly “Creative Cocktail Hour” and we were first in line to pay to enter.
We bought drinks, viewed the artwork that was on display, then we staked out a table where we sat, chatted, and people-watched for about an hour. A few old friends came by and we renewed acquaintances.
Then we bought another round of drinks (non-alcoholic, by the way) and went outside on the patio to get some fresh air.
One of my blog readers recognized me and introduced herself as a daily reader and fan of the blog. I was happy she stopped to say “hello,” because it is always great to meet one of my readers in person.
The trans crowd was not. Last few times I attended the “Hour,” there were usually a dozen or so transgirls present. Last night, I counted six including myself. Go figure!
Throughout the evening, I noted my interaction with the civilians. Males would look at me and nothing more. On the other hand, if I caught the eye of a female, she would invariably smile and I would returned the smile and if she was close enough, I would say “hello” and she might return the greeting, but nothing more.
As our evening wound down, we sat on a wall-length bench outside the main exhibit area next to a female couple. After awhile, Diana decided to leave, but I wanted to hang on for a little while longer, so I remained seated.
Shortly thereafter, while one member of the female couple was off doing something, the other female engaged me in conversation. Turns out she is the partner of the woman whose art exhibit had opened last night. They are from Brooklyn and we chatted about NYC and Connecticut, etcetera, etcetera.
We had a pleasant chat for about 15 minutes. As we were running out of things to talk about, I decided it was a good time to gracefully exit the premises because it was approaching my bedtime and I had to get up at 5:45 AM. So I excused myself, thanked her for the conversation, and worked my way through the crowd to my Subaru awaiting me outside.
The evening out was superb and I look forward to my next outing en femme.
Hartford is the destination for my girls’ night out tonight where I will meet my friend Diana for dinner at a restaurant downtown. After dinner, we will enjoy an after dinner drink (or two) at Real Art Ways’ monthly Creative Cocktail Hour.
It should be fun and I am looking forward to another opportunity to be en femme.
This is the first in a series about the major errors femulators make in their presentations that detract from their femulations, in my humble opinion. In addition to pointing out the\ errors, I will explain how to avoid and/or correct them.
Caveat emptor: I have no formal training in the arts related to femulation. However, I do have over 45 years experience practicing those arts and have become so adept at them that I pass more often than not.
Inexpensive wigs are attractive to femulators because they are inexpensive. Their attractiveness ends there because a cheap wig by any other name is still a cheap wig.
When you wear a cheap wig, there is no fooling anyone that the hair on your head is fake. And when people see that you are wearing a wig, they might examine you more closely and find other clues that give away your natal gender.
I have owned a few cheap wigs in my time and I have photos wearing those cheap wigs that convinced me to go upscale in the wig department. “Upscale” meant spending $99 rather than $49 for a wig.
It was an improvement, but not good enough. A $99 wig was still relatively inexpensive for a wig (it was just more expensive "cheap" wigs).
Also, I did not know what wig was best for me. I tried different styles, different lengths, and different colors, but always avoided blond shades and short lengths.
I avoided blonds because I thought that blond was oh so drag. All the boys who wanted to be girls wanted to be blond girls.
Also, I avoided short lengths because I thought my head was too big to be properly covered with a short wig.
A trip to a pro convinced me otherwise.
Annually, a local wig shop hosts a meeting of my support group. A few years ago, I was the hostess, which meant that I showed up early to bring the refreshments. I had no intention of buying a wig; it was just another opportunity to be out en femme, so I was happy to be the hostess and not necessarily a wig customer.
We had an excellent turn-out and new wigs were flying out the door throughout the evening. As things were winding down, the wig shop owner, Kathy, said it was my turn. She sat me down at a mirror and went to the back room to fetch a wig she thought would be perfect for me.
A few minutes later, she returned with a short blond wig.
I thought to myself, "Oh no; she's is making a mistake."
She pulled the wig over my head, finger-combed it a bit, and then let me look in the mirror.
In a very soft voice, I said, "Oh, my god!"
The wig looked absolutely fabulous on me and I did not think twice about purchasing it.
That wig (“Ryan” by Noriko) cost about $333, but it was worth every penny. It pushed my femulation skills up a few notches.
I lost count how many times people complimented me about my hair and how many times those same people were shocked to find out I was wearing a wig. (I never received such reactions wearing my $99 wigs.)
So the bottom line is (1) seek out a professional wig seller for advice concerning the best wig color, style and length for you and (2) be willing to spend much more than $99 for a wig.