Marie, A Girl Continued

This story is a continuation of Marie's First Time.

Regrettably, next day when we were reliving the events of the previous evening my wife announced now that I had experienced some of the joys of femininity she now expected me to cherish the memory but we would never have an encore performance. I was inwardly crushed but I was able to obtain some photos from the party and cut one down to wallet size, which I kept for many years as a small reminded of my first fully feminine adventure. I would not be able until many years later after we had three children - all girls - learned many another aspects of femininity. Was surrounded by this crew until the girls departed the nest and my wife suddenly passed away. Shortly afterward the girls came and cleaned out all my wife's things and I was left with an enormous walk-in rosewood closet with a full length beveled mirror and the delicate fragrance of her numerous flower caches. This started me into on exploration of my femininity, which had been dormant for twenty-four years.

During the next few weeks I recalled all the preparations for the Halloween Show Girl Team and mentally relived the preparation and the excitement and thrill of that evening in my mind. Without my "Girl Guide Partner," my first purchases were tentative and always mixed with other purchases. It took a few trial runs to determine my girl sizes (36B, eight in panties and skirts, and ten in dresses and twelve in well tailored ladies suits (skirts had to be taken in). The lingerie collection gradually grew to become came a rainbow of matching colors. The same with shoes and purses and of course a few good quality wigs. Although I had the run of the house and could do the housekeeping chores a la femme, and could walk outside on the two acres of property and travel down the driveway to deposit or pickup the mail my inner soul yearned for some female companionship and appreciation as well as makeup tips and feminine training. I was yearning to go out into the world and experience the life I had forgone those many years. The "web to the rescue."

It took me a few weeks of frustration and missed starts before I came up with my "Fairy Godmother." Finally after several weeks/month of searching under various terms, located the website of a makeup artist who also does photoshoots a few hours away. Made an appointment and began preparations including culling my wardrobe and purchasing a special outfit. On my arrival day, I was met by the "artist," an extremely friendly and lively woman who shortly I would learn was totally understanding and highly supportive of Marie. I was thrilled but also a little anxious as I entered this new world.

After a few minutes of chatting with a glass of wine in hand, I began the conversion from Bruce to Marie. Shave, shower, dusting powder, wig, lingerie, and dressing gown followed by a full professional makeover. Then we selected the outfits beginning with casual walking-out togs, moved to day dresses, then a stylish business suit, a wonderful cocktail number all with the appropriate jewelry, accessories, shoes and purses. There were camera shots galore, some posed but many candid as Marie transitioned from the casual afternoon shopping outfit through each of the progressively for feminine images.

I was in seventh heaven as someone coined ages ago. We eventually graduated to an off the shoulder low bodice ball gown worth matching shawl. Did I tell you the background music during the journey evolved to match the mood setting of each outfit. Totally enticed by this new and wonderful world changed back to a nice up-scale shopping outfit and departed for a light dinner at a warm, friendly and cozy restaurant. The three of us – my artist’s husband had joined us for dinner. Then a walk along the lakeside boardwalk with the evening breeze gently blowing my skirt and caressing my well rounded breasts with just a touch of cleavage showing. The clicking of our heels was the musical backdrop. The night was not over!! After Brad – the husband went back to work, we girls headed back to the studio and another whole chapter of delight and femininity awaited, although I was unaware at the time and due to the trance of euphoria I was in. Nothing could be better, I thought. I proved to be delightfully incorrect.

Upon pulling up at the studio my "Girl Guide" suggested I take a leisurely "soak" and she would be back in 45 minutes for another training lesson. Before ascending the stairs to her house, she chirped over her shoulder that I would find everything a lady needed in the bath off the studio and available myself of anything and everything I found finishing up with the reminder she would be back in 45 minutes and expected to fine a perfectly smooth skinned and moisturized “Marie” waiting for another chapter in femininity. With cheerful directions I slipped off my heels dangled them in one hand and with purse in other and flew up the stone steps.

As I entered the bath-suite, and that was what is was – the lights slow came on and climbed to a pleasant pinkish hue and soft music filling the air. I was stunned and captivated. Taking one last-long look in the full-length wall mirror, I carefully removed the walking-out dining outfit carefully hanging it on a cushioned and perfumed hangar. There were several. Each displaying a separate article of intimate apparel, including a short pink dressing gown, and a black satin sleeping gown and matching black negligee. Next to this mini-alcove was velvet covered cushioned stool. On it laid a black bra and panty plus a pair of near black thigh highs. The tub had been half drawn and the water was barely warm so on with the hot water tap and then in with the bottle of bubble bath that was perched on the side. While waiting a quick face cleaning and shave, then slide into the foaming delightful smelling blue liquid. There was a small book title “How to be a Girl.”

Only a quick perusal was allowed as only 20 minutes were left before my hostess would return. Gingerly, I stepped out of the porcelain tub and using the giant sized pink bath towel, dried and powered my smooth skin paying particular attention to my shoulders, throat and cleavage area. Then on with the lacy bra and equally lacy panties followed by carefully rolling the thigh-highs up taking special care not the cause a run in these gossamer encasements. Then the black heels and the thigh-length dressing gown.

Just as I was brushing my hair, I heard the chimes from the studio door and the cheerful voice of my hostess calling my name, "Marie, are you decent?" I quickly chirped back a positive reply and entered the studio and took a sit in the makeup chair where my face again become a palette of femininity and if I may say so, when finished glamorous.

As I stood in front of the full-length mirror, once more my hostess came behind me, wrapped a black satin and bone corset around my waist and began working the laces. She had me turn away from the mirror as she was performing this piece of magic. When finished, she added a pearl necklace, matching dangling earrings, ring and bracelet and a cloud of perfume from the crown of my carefully casually brushed hair down to my now naturally-enhanced cleavage. Then I was allowed to gracefully turn back to the mirror which she had now opened to it three full panels. A vision of femininity in spirit and body looked back. I was flabbergasted at the level of artistry my hostess had achieved and absolutely taken back by Marie.

Lastly, I was guided to a nearby bed and directed to strike several girly poses, while my hostess snapped pictures in a rapid suggestion. She then exited the studio and turning off the light, wished me a night full of wonderful dreams. Luxurious in the memories of the day and evening, I drifted off to a restful sleep.


I invite all Femulate readers to share their first crossdressing experience. Try to recall that moment the first time you tried on a woman’s garment and began the process of unveiling and exploring your feminine self. To entice you to share your first time story, I will give away a free copy of my e-book Fantasia Fair Diaries to all whose stories I use in Femulate.

Wearing Alexander Wang.

Hans Anton, professional femulator, circa 1910

Got Labels?

By Susan King

This is the first of what I hope are many guest blog posts by my friend Susan, who is the author of her own blog, Transitioning Into Tomorrow.

Growing up in 1960's, I was secretly wearing my mother's girdle, stockings and heels. I love the look and feel of them. I remember feeling bad about it but could not stop. Nor did I want to. Eventually the word crossdresser became my label and my father thought I might be gay.

We did not have many labels back then. Slowly through the 1980's, different labels appeared, thanks to talk shows like Phil Donahue..

Now with the Internet and gender becoming front and center, there seems to be so many labels, I can not keep up. Below is a video that attempts to make some logical sense of these gender variant labels.

There are 21 different labels discussed in this video. I think there is a little overkill and that some are redundant. But the video did help me.

 

Wearing Ted Baker London.

6 Pack Band, India's first transgender band

SaveSave

She's got legs; she knows how to use them*

I recently received another e-mail complaining that my skirts were too short for my height and/or my age (I am 6 feet 2 and 65 years old).

I think the height complaint is a non-starter. Tall women have long and shapely legs --- who to better show off them off then by wearing short skirts?

Online, I found this about tall women and short skirts.

"Tall women of all ages look great in a short skirt. As you grow out of your college-partying days, you will probably want to veer away from the ultra-short, ultra-tight mini skirt, but there’s nothing wrong with a skirt that ends at your fingertips or mid-thigh. If that seems too edgy, try a skirt that ends equidistant between your knees and your fingertips. A skirt this length will help prevent embarrassing Brittany-esque moments, but will still show off enough leg to make people take notice."

I also found this.

Editor-at-Large from Glamour magazine Suze Yalof Schwartz appearing on Today said, "Her 'rule of thumb' (pun intended) is that a mini skirt's hem should not be any shorter than a wearer's thumb when the hands are at the side. I actually think, however, that you have to see the wearer and the garment and that rules like that don't always apply across the board. Plus, the thumb line can be pretty short.

"For example, the wearer's legs make a huge difference in whether a mini dress or skirt makes you look fabulous or half-naked. Take Real Housewife of New York City Kelly Bensimon, for instance... As a tan, statuesque (6' 0" - Ed.) former model, her style is synonymous with mini skirts. Are her skirts, shorts, and dresses a tad too short sometimes? Sure. But does she have great legs and all the business in the world rocking a style that shows off her inherent gam glory: Absolutely!"

Personally, I think that my legs are ok, but other people have convinced me that they are more so. My legs have always received good grades. My mother often said I had beautiful legs (and that "you should have been a girl with legs like yours"). My wife and other genetic women have admitted that I have nicer legs then they do. Friends and strangers have praised my legs. A friend's spouse even nicknamed me "Leggy."

Who am I to argue? The consensus is that I have great legs, so they meet the qualification to be shown and height is not a cause for disqualification. 

But does my age disqualify me?

For starters, I don't look (or act) my age. Even in boy mode, I look younger than my age. In girl mode, with makeup and a wig piled on, I look even younger. People often guess I am in my 40s. But what's age got to do with it?

From the Internet again:

"To use her as an example yet again, Kelly Bensimon is 40 years old and not slowing down when it comes to donning miniskirts. I don't think there should be any hard and fast rule about not wearing something after a certain age. The key is being honest with yourself about how you look in it."

I honestly think I look good in short skirts despite my age, real or apparent. Until I am convinced otherwise, you will see my knees and more.

* You all probably recognize that line from ZZ Top's hit recording "Legs." I wonder if you remember a brief T-moment in the video for that song. In that video, leggy girls, who are dressed over-the-top, are shopping in a boutique outfitting another girl who is more conservatively dressed. The T-moment occurs when one of the leggy girls grabs a dress from a guy who is holding the garment up to himself to see how it fits/looks in it.

(Caveat Emptor: This is a redo of a 3-year-old post.)

Wearing Fashion To Figure.

John Hansen (left) in the 1970 film The Christine Jorgensen Story

Happy Independence Day!

Wearing Guess by Marciano.

Peter Outerbridge in the 1999 Canadian film Better Than Chocolate.

Susanna Said

Susanna Valenti of Casa Susanna fame wrote regularly for Virginia Prince's Transvestia. Her take on the state of crossdressing in the early 1960s still rings true 55 years later. The following is her "Susanna Says..." column from a 1962 issue of Transvestia. I think you will find it as interesting as I did.

Hello.

Little by little our little world of perfume, jewelry and fashion seems to spring open new doors towards sociability and experience-sharing events. And like so many other human endeavors, it shows up the good and bad, the strength and frailty of its members.
 
I have often been asked, "how do you 'weed out' curiosity seekers, fakes and otherwise undesirable elements from the stand­-point of our group."  In other words, how do I know that the person who writes or simply shows up at my apartment is the real thing and not a "plant" who might conceivably be harmful to the rest of the group.

If I said outright that I have learned to rely a great deal on my feminine intuition, I would certainly be accused of put­ting on airs of superiority. If I said that I can "smell" a fake a mile away, there would be those who would shake their heads and say that I consider myself a privileged character and that I am indulging in wishful thinking. The truth is that there is a bit of instinct at play in this "weeding out" process, plus the con­clusions you instinctively learn to draw from having met many doz­ens of girls.

So far, I have not been wrong in my judgement. Al­most everyone I've met and consented in introducing to the rest of the girls has turned out to be the real thing. This does not mean to imply that I have not had attempts made by fakes to enter the circle.

This happened just a few nights ago.

My twin brother and his wife had just arrived home after a long working day. They had barely sat down to relax when the door bell rang. A chap, well dressed stands at the door and says,  "May I see Susanna Valenti?"

My twin brother without hesitation extends his hand and says,, "I'm Susanna, please come in." I spoke through him from that moment on. I apologized for not being properly dressed and led him to our living room, There we sat.

He was not nervous, but seemed to be a bit uncomfortable... How did you find out about Susanna?... A magazine I bought on 42nd St... What issue?... I don't remember... there's a a blonde in a garden-like on the cover... That's number 14. Any other issues?... No... I assume you are one of us... Well, yes... Do you indulge often?... Not too often... I assume you want to find out about the resort... Yes, where is it?... In the Catskill Moun­tains about 130 miles from New York... And what goes on there?... We are ourselves, quietly, peacefully, in a friendly atmosphere. Impromptu advice when needed, impromptu entertainment. Nothing planned, just freedom in privacy...

Do you have girls there?... Our­selves, of course, and occasionally wives or understanding girl­friends... I see... Tell me, do you have a wardrobe?... Not too much... What for instance?... Well, just a few items... Do you have any pre­ferences, style, color, materials?... Well, not particularly... I see, and how are you fixed for hair?... I have something, but tell me, where is this place?... I told you, in the mountains. It's a 3-hour ride from New York. Do you drive?... Yes... Do you think you'll have the chance to visit the place?... I guess so... Do you have any makeup problems?... Not particularly... What eye-shadow do you prefer?... Well... How do you handle the padding problem?... Well... And by the way, what size dress do you take?... I don't know...

When did you get started, I mean when did you first find out about yourself?... What do you mean?... I mean the feeling, the realization... I don't exactly know, but tell me, are there many TV's in New York?... Yes... How do you go about meeting them?... Well, you've met me. The others will come later... if you are a TV. If not, forget it. If you are fishing for names and phone numbers you've come to the wrong place. Anonymity is our motto. I never ask a TV his real name, occupation or address. I don't want to know, I'm not interested. If they want to call me, they have my phone number and address. I don't contact them. They con­tact me. I'm not interested one bit in their male personalities... it's the hidden girl we all want to know and meet. Don't you agree?... Yes, I guess so...

Well, my friend... now you've met me... you are most welcome to drop in... if there's any advice you need, I'll be glad to help: shopping, makeup, you know... Anything else?... No, I don't think so... I guess I'd better be going... Nice meeting you... bye... bye.

And there, my friends was a fake if I ever saw one. He gave all the wrong answers, His reactions were not those of a TV. Whatever his purpose was in calling, it most certainly was not transvestism. Even the most shy TV will perk up when you lead the conversation toward frocks and makeup; there's a gleam in his eyes that no fake can possibly imitate.

So you weed them out. You know that those you've accepted are sister souls. But the weeding does not stop there. Not all of the girls meet the basic standards for the group.

What are the standards? And who are you, Susanna Valenti, to set up standards?

I don't set them up arbitrarily, my friends. They are simply the basic tenets of human behaviour that come into play when you are in the company of others. You can be a real TV, but that alone does not make you a nice person to be with. You can even be the quiet type, but still be friendly, show interest in others, forget a bit about yourself... don't drive everybody crazy by repeating ad nauseum your "fabulous" adventures.

Be helpful without being con­descending. Don't set yourself up as a perfect example that should be imitated by everybody else. This is especially important when you are talking to a girl who has just come out of her locked room. She's naturally timid, even the thought of being seen by others is still rather horrifying... it is your duty to go easy, respect what­ever physical or social or family limitations she must endure and don't try to force your pattern onto others. Be delicate and tact­ful. Don't pull out a notebook after a few minutes of conversat­ion on your first meeting and request name, address, phone number and occupation. That's none of your TV business!!!

If, as it often happens, after a few meetings, you find that you consider each other good friends and you do need a place to mail a picture or perhaps a note, ask tactfully if she has any address you could write to and if there's any name you could address the letter to. There are many TV's who just don't want to take the chance of hav­ing their name and address in somebody else's little notebook. It might fall into the wrong hands even if the owner is sincere and means no harm. So, respect that
desire for anonymity and don't persist. Anyway, who cares about the fellow! He's usually a pretty common and rather boring entity. It's the girl within that's fun to know.

Those TV's who are more active should be extremely tactful and not try to push new and inexperienced ones onto adventures (going out, I mean) without adequate practice, or supervision. A TV should, above all be realistic. Most of the time, the gorgeous image of our own selves within our own minds is far from being so gorgeous. There is a great deal of self-deception that must be checked before it's too late. Personally I have been at fault along these lines quite often. After a few successful trips into the outer world, I thought that I was as safe as Marilyn Monroe in a studio set. Perhaps, I have mellowed with time or perhaps, I've taken a better look in the mirror, but my daytime outings have en­tirely ceased. Only evenings or nighttime. Not until and if, I go through electrolysis, will I carelessly defy the sunshine unless I'm in the privacy of the resort.

After observing dozens of girls in action, I've come to the conclusion that the thing that must be watched most carefully is the walk. It is not enough to think that just by shortening your step you've solved the problem. No indeed. High heels will shorten it automatically, anyway... There's more than that... A woman walks from the hips and does not give the initial impetus for the step from the knee as men do. Just observe carefully the women you see walking on the street and you'll confirm this fact. Men propel themselves along using their shoulders... women don't. The arm movement while walking is also a dead giveaway in many cases.

But coming back to the matter of behavior in a group, it is heartbreaking to see a girl making a pest of herself with the rest of the group. The type that grabs a lipstick without asking per­mission from the owner... the kind who wants to be the center of attraction at all times... or the kind who never has a gracious, kind compliment for others and still expects everybody to flatter her every minute of the day. To say nothing of those who find re­freshments purchased by others and simply monopolizes the container and the contents without even a pretense of a "may I?"

These girls weed themselves right out of the group before they know what's happened. Nobody likes them and the circle doors begin to close. Then, mysteriously Susanna is going to be terribly busy... any meet­ings in prospect? No, my dear... nothing for the time being... I would like to come to the resort this weekend... Gee, I'm sorry, we are having other people there this time. I wouldn't advise you to come... And so it goes. No more invitations to stay overnight in NY, etc... and out she goes.

To like to dress is not enough. I've just re-read all of the above and it certainly sounds catty. But it isn't. It's just a friendly bit of advice to the new girls (and to some of the old ones).

Irene, Giselle & Fiona... what a beautiful trio of Canadian sweetness! People you like almost on sight. It was a lovely week­end with them at the resort. Roberta was the life of the party... wonderful sense of humor that helped break the ice for the shy, new ones...Louise from Maine, quiet and nice... a real lady. So was Robin, who walks about as if she were floating on a cloud of radiant happiness. Elaine, finally we met after many letters and phone calls. The kind you instinctively know is going to be a wonderful friend.

And then, the old timers... no need to flatter them because they know I'm a liar... Lee stunning as usual... Dorothea, good com­pany, a good mixer... sometimes I think she pioneered in the "inven­tion of transvestism"... looks much better now that she lost many, many pounds... Bea from the Carolinas on the other hand could do with a few more pounds... she'a got good taste and carries out her part with a tremendous eagerness for perfection. Buff, just as gorgeous as usual... please, smile more often dear... you look too serious... and Gail... well, this ia the end of the article... sorry I can't find words to flatter her and finally our best wishes to Edith... she has just taken the most interesting trip of her life and is living a real dream... good luck.

Susanna Valenti

Wearing Guess by Marciano.

Gayle Channing, professional femulator, circa 1964

Flicks for Chicks

I am a big movie fan.

I like a varied genre of film. There are only a few that I do not like: action (for the sake of action) films and slasher films. I also don't care much for feature-length animated films, but I love cartoons (especially Warner Brothers cartoons).

Although I love dressing as a woman, I do like films that appeal to manly men, for example, war films, especially World War II films, westerns, spy films (Connery's 007 are my favorites), mob films, cop films, science fiction, horror films, etc.

My guilty pleasure is the chick flick. (I am writing this just after watching Joy.)

Perusing the lists of great chick flicks, I've seen most of them, liked most of the ones I've seen, and consider some of them as my favorite films of all time!

As a femulator, I guess liking chick flicks is just another expression of my inner chick.

(Caveat Emptor: This is a redo of a 9-year-old post.)

Wearing Rachel Zoe.

P.C. Air's transgender flight attendants Nathatai Sukkaset, Dissanai Chitpraphachin, Phuntakarn Sringern and Chayathisa Nakmai

The Perfect Dress

Ann Taylor has this striped dress on sale and I think it is a perfect dress for girls like us.

The vertical stripes on top create the illusion of narrowing our wide shoulders and the horizontal stripes below create the illusion of widening our narrow hips. The lack of sleeves may be problematical for some girls, but if your arms are thinner than the average gurl, then this dress may be for you.

Wearing Milano.

Fred Armisen (right) in a 2009 episode of television's Saturday Night Live. Between SNL, Portlandia and other TV and film appearances, Fred has probably femulated more than any other current actor or comedian.

50 Summers Ago

When I read A Year Among the Girls by Darryl Raynor in 1968, I was a high school senior and trying to figure things out about my gender. The book did not help me figure things out, but it did make me aware that there were more guys dressing as girls than I had originally suspected. (I originally suspected only me and my best friend Billy.)

Little did I know then that the book was based on the writer's experiences at Casa Susanna. As soon as I read Casa Susanna 37 years later, I suspected that it was the location of A Year Among the Girls. My suspicion turned out to be correct.

I have been collecting images of Casa Susanna ever since. Here are some of my favorites from those summers in Upstate New York long ago. I hope you enjoy them.

Wearing Eloquii.

Thunderballs, a James Bond spoof with a woman playing 007 and men playing the Bond girls.