My favourite fotie is not one of my best but it conveys my essence, I think, fully. I almost deleted it from my phone I disliked it so; the quality is awful, even after tweaking. Then I began to look at it in detail.
I started to see this Trannie as others might see her. Dressed in a style no one adopts now, full on fifties. Fur wrap; gorgeous kid gloves and matching handbag; custom made tweed suit and not in the picture, lace up high heel shoes and fully fashioned stockings (worn inside out, to emphasise the seam) not mention the silk, hand made lace trimmed lingerie and Rago foundation wear.
The whole impression projected is CONFIDENCE. I've grown over a long time, to adapt the classic fashions of the best of of the Golden Age, firstly to suit my body, but mostly to please my longing for the fine things and style denied to we males. I abhor short styles and revealing outfits which suit very few women and even fewer crossdressers. I dress to impress myself I guess, more than onlookers, but I need to make an impression on them too, to make them think "Wow!" before they think "Man!"
I applaud you Stana, about to dress to go to the office; I couldn't do that (even if I wasn't retired). I don't think I would be able to sustain the effort on a daily basis. Not just the physical, time-consuming effort, but the mental exertion, too. I attract attention!
My favourite photo is flawed. I'm not smiling; lipstick a bit squint; quality grainy and lacking contrast, but it's ME, showing the journey (as Americans say) of how I got to be me.
I put it on my flickr page and it had more views than any other I have posted, so I'm not alone then.
To sum up. It's the real me, the best me, no one like me, and 70 years old me!
In response to my open invitation to send your favorite photo along with the story behind it and the reason it is your favorite photo, I received a lot of photos and stories that I am posting in the the order I received them. My invitation still stands, so don't be shy, send me your fave foto!
Wearing Aster.
When I was a youngster, I enjoyed using our vacuum cleaner and never considered that it was something a male-bodied child should not do. My mother may have had different thoughts on the matter.