the man of the house

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Surgeon General's Warning: Smoking Does Not Cause Crossdressing

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why black eyeliner is eternal

I never got the hang of applying liquid eyeliner; not enough practice, I guess. So usually, I use a pencil or powder eyeliner in a black or dark brown shade, but usually black.

I can get a defined line with a pencil eyeliner, similar to using a liquid eyeliner, but not as harsh. However, if I am trying to achieve smoky eyes, I switch to a powder eyeliner because it is easier to blend and achieve smokiness than if I used a pencil eyeliner.

Either way, I always use eyeliner when I do my makeup. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but I never leave the house en femme without something lining my peepers.

Which brings me to an article that appeared last night on The Huffington Post. "Think Ink" by Napoleon Perdis reveals "why black eyeliner is eternal" and affirms my dependence on the black wand of makeup magic.

wrong kind of T

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the one with all the frills upon it

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all day long

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this and that

crossdressing is not a mental disorder

Sister blogger, Petra Bellejambes, of Voyages en Rose fame suggested that I mention the petition sponsored by the International Foundation for Gender Education (IFGE). It calls for the complete removal of so-called "Transvestic Disorder" (302.3) as a diagnostic category from the next Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). (The Manual "is published by the American Psychiatric Association (APA) and provides a common language and standard criteria for the classification of mental disorders." )

In their petition, the IFGE delineates the reasons for removing Transvestic Disorder from the DSM. After reading the petition, I am sure you will agree with its logic and  I urge you to sign it as I did and tell the APA that crossdressing is not a mental disorder.

So, do not pass go, do not collect $200, instead go here and sign the petition now!

snarky comments

Read the comments to blog postings and you may notice that the snarky, rude, and nasty comments usually come from "anonymous" senders.

After receiving my share of those snarky comments, I considered deleting them because I felt that if a commenter was so gutless that he/she had to resort to an anonymous identity in order to post a  snarky comment, then his/her comment did not deserve to see the light of day.

However, I am a strong advocate of free speech and I let everyone have their say no matter how wrong they may be. It is just too bad that some of the commenters are so cowardly that they cannot stand behind their words.

By the way, the only comments I will delete are those containing foul language, i.e., those containing the seven words the FCC will not allow on television and then some. (You can look them up here.)

weighty issue

Good news!

You may remember my bout with a stomach virus a few weeks ago, which resulted in a large loss of weight. Well, I am fully recovered now and even better, I managed to keep off almost all the weight that I lost.

I guess I should start perusing the apparel catalogs to find a skimpy bikini to purchase real soon now. (I wish!)

What --- Me joke?

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coming out: another step

One of my friends, who I have known for over 15 years, lives 2500 miles away. Except for one or two face-to-face encounters at conferences each year, all our communications are by e-mail.

The next conference I attend will be en femme and I wanted to alert him beforehand.

In anticipation of coming out, I had composed a 500-word letter of explanation weeks ago. Yesterday at high noon, I copied the words into a blank e-mail, made a few changes, then I stared at the Send button for a few hours.

I did not actually stare at the Send button all that time, but I did consider whether or not to send the e-mail for three hours.

It was a tough decision. In the past, I have come out to friends and acquaintances who have known me for a long or short time, but all of them were women.

I find it very easy to come out to women. I guess because I am telling them that I am on their team.

Men are not so easy. Just encountering men when I am en femme gives me pause; coming out to a man is unthinkable. My friend would be the first male friend or acquaintance I would be coming out to.

I finally realized that I had to tell him, so I hit the Send button and girded myself for his reply.

I was so worried about his response that I did not check my e-mails the rest of the afternoon. Finally, after dinner, I looked for his reply, found it, and opened it.

He wrote, "Thank you for the e-mail. I am sure it was hard to send. But rest assured, you have my respect and support. I think it is best that a person be true to themselves, and you are doing just that. You go girl!"

He floored me with “You go girl!”

Now, that's a real friend!

manbag goes mainstream

The JCPenney advertising flyer inserted in Sunday’s newspaper here included a male modeling a suit, while carrying a “manbag,” the manly name for a male purse (see photo right).

It is the first time I can recall a manbag being shown by a mainstream retailer. It is another milestone in the feminization of male fashions.

JCPenney is not selling manbags, yet. The store probably assumes that males wanting to buy purses can find them in the women’s department along with other femmed-menswear ("femmenswear") not yet stocked in the men’s department.

bridesmaids go long

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fixing my name

When I was femulating in the privacy of my own closet, it never occurred to me to pick a female name because my femulation had no contact with the world outside my closet, but things changed.

In the early 1980s, I discovered the Genderline group on CompuServe. I spent hours reading its contents and eventually, I had a few questions I wanted to ask the group. The problem was that everyone on Genderline used a female name to avoid outing themselves with their male names. So I had to come up with my own female name before I posted my first message.

The easy way out was to use the feminine version of my male name, for example, Dean becomes Deanna, Steven becomes Stephanie, Eric becomes Erica, and Jordan becomes Jordan. I am always in favor of the path of least resistance, so I decided to use the feminine version of Stan.

Coming up with a feminine version of Stan was a bit of a stretch. The convoluted route I followed was Stan to Stanley to Stanislaus to Anastacia to Staci.

Haste makes waste, so they say, and I have regretted my rushed choice of Staci ever since.

--- Most people spell it wrong; Stacy, Stacie, or Stacey, seldom Staci.

--- I wanted a girly name, not an either-or name! When written, Stacy, Stacie, or Stacey can be either a male or female name, whereas "Staci" is strictly female. Since few people get my name right, their error results in giving me a genderless name. When anyone speaks my name, it is always genderless because you can't tell that my name ends with an "i" when spoken.

--- I dunno about you, but I always associate a name with the first person I ever met who had that name. The first and second women I met with the name "Staci" were memorable in very different negative ways.

So, I am not thrilled with my name and have considered changing it. 

Awhile back, I kicked around the idea of changing my name to "Lana." I polled my blog readers and 2 out of 3 of you said to stick with Staci. I followed your suggestion, however, I began using Lana as my middle name, but up front, I was still stuck with Staci.

Over a year ago, I discovered a Slavic female name that is a direct feminine derivation of Stan: Stana.

I first became aware of Stana when I acquired a postcard depicting a female impersonator named Stana Behavy. Shortly after, I learned of a 5'9" actress to add to my Famous Females of Height List. Her name was Stana Katic (she now appears in the ABC television series Castle).

I filed the name away for the future.

A few days ago, I e-mailed some recent photos to a co-worker, who knows about my femulating.

She e-mailed back, "You’re so cute Stan…very lovely.  Hot dress…love the color too."

Reading that response made me think.

I am out to people who know me only by my male name and I intend to come out to more people who know me only by my male name.

Why not make it easier for them by using a female name so similar to my male name? "Stan" and "Stana" are so interchangeable that one does not have to worry about slipping up when speaking my name? No one, certainly not I, will call them out if they say "Stan" when they intended to say "Stana" and vice versa. "Stan" can even be considered short for "Stana."

And I like the name. It rhymes with "Anna," the object of my first puppy love. It is unique (I always like to be unique). And it is a good fit, that is, it simply suits me.

Herb is hers

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it’s still almost April in Paris

Back on the 16th, I published a link pointing to a gallery of Paris street styles that demonstrated that spring was in the air in Paris.

That gallery was so inspiring that when a second gallery appeared, I had to pass it on to all you mademoiselle wannabes.

Enjoy!

my tall tale

I have three new additions to my Famous Females of Height List:

Crystal Renn – 5'9" plus-size model (photo right)

Brooklyn Decker – 5'10" model, Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue cover girl

Anna Gunn – 5'10" actress, TV’s Breaking Bad

my rationale

Unless you have read the blurb that precedes my Famous Females of Height List, you probably do not know the reason I compile the list, so here is my rationale:

I am over six feet tall, so when I femulate, I am a tall woman.

About the time I started femulating, I became interested in tall women because they affirmed my existence as a tall woman, that is, I was not the only tall woman out and about in society. Few were as tall as me, but maybe there were enough out there so that I could blend in more easily as just another tall woman.

After I started writing this blog, I began compiling my list because I did not want any tall femulators to fear going out en femme because of their height. The list is proof  that there are tall females out there, so don’t be afraid because you are not alone.

womanless pageants galore!

It seems that 'tis the season for our brothers to become sisters and strut their feminized selves across the stages of the South. During the past few weeks, Aunty Marlena, Janet Lincoln, and Lady Googoo have sent me numerous e-mails alerting me to new womanless beauty pageants popping up across the Internet.

The contrast between the proliferation of womanless pageants in the South and the dearth of pageants everywhere else amazes me! What’s up with that?

Anyway, I separated the wheat from the chaff and here are the best.

Two sets of photos (this year's and last's) and a video from Glenvar High School in Salem, VA: 2010 photos, 2009 photos and 2010 videos.

Photos from last year's pageant at Inman Middle School in Paris, TN.

Photos from the 2010 Mr. BCHS pageant at Berrien County High School in Nashville, GA.

Two sets of photos (2010 and 2009) from a pageant at the Meadowview Christian School in Selma, AL.

heroes

My heroes are the transwomen who do not need secret identities to be women. These transwomen have the courage to live as women, whether it be 24/7 or for a few hours at a time, yet they do not hide behind a female identity in order to protect a male identity. They are open about living as women and if you have a problem with that, then it is your problem not their's.

Transwomen without secret identities are a rare breed. I have been involved in the femulation world for almost a half century and I know of only a handful. Artist Grayson Perry and comedian Eddie Izzard come to mind immediately, but there are others, not as famous, but just as courageous in expressing their gender out in the open.

In my travels, I have actually met one in person: Miqqi Alicia Gilbert, a philosophy professor at York University in Toronto, who goes about the university (and life) en femme and en homme.

Back in October 2008, my second full day at Fantasia Fair, I left my hotel to go to lunch at the restaurant designated by my meal ticket. As I was walking out the door, I encountered Miqqi Gilbert. She asked me if I was going to lunch and, if so, would I mind if she walked with me to the restaurant.

Would I mind? Miqqi asking me to accompany her to the restaurant was the equivalent of Ted Williams asking me to play catch with him when I was a kid.

Miqqi is one of my heroes and our walk and conversation down Provincetown's Commercial Street was one of the highlights of my week. Truth be told, I was so star struck that I don't remember what we talked about, but that does not matter. The icing on the cake was at the restaurant, when she asked me to sit at her table.

Miqqi is the Executive Director of Fantasia Fair and she also writes for Transgender Tapestry, the quarterly publication of the International Foundation for Gender Education (IFGE). You can find her writings on her Web site along with a lot of other worthwhile information

By the way, transwomen without secret identities are my heroes because I want to be just like them.

Saturday at the Banquet

How you gonna to keep 'em down on the farm (after they've seen Paree)?

After my afternoon becoming fantastic at The Facial Clinic and Med Spa, I faced an 80-mile drive to the site of the Connecticut Outreach Society's banquet.

My afternoon at the spa ran late, so I knew I was going to be late for the start of the banquet (no way would I cover 80 miles in 65 minutes), but as Murphy would have it, things got worse.

I missed a transfer point between Interstates and was unsure of what to do for about five minutes; should keep going or turn around? Then, I recognized my location and knew how to get back to my neck of the woods. However, the error was going to cost me and I was going to be even later arriving at the banquet.

Turned out I arrived 25 minutes late. After parking the car, I gathered up my stuff, checked myself in the vanity mirror, exited the car, walked through the parking lot and into the hotel lobby. I encountered a few banquet attendees, but no civilians. The atmosphere of the hotel seemed very subdued to me.

I checked in to get my meal and raffle tickets, then I encountered Diana, who was one of the banquet organizers. I asked her how many were expected to attend the banquet and she said over 55, which was typical for the past few years of the banquet.

Entering the banquet room, it seemed about half the attendees had not yet arrived and the atmosphere seemed subdued. (Was I attending a wake or a party?) I staked out a seat at a near empty table and went to the bar for a drink.

My stomach was still not up to snuff nine days after my bout with a stomach virus, so I had only one alcoholic beverage the entire evening. I also ate like a bird, barely touching the soup and main course, but indulging more in the salad and dessert. (By the way, I lost 7 pounds since the virus first struck.)

I tried to make pleasant conversation with my table mates, but something was odd. I felt out of place. I was just not into it. The girl next to me remarked, “You’re very quiet tonight.”

I felt so out of place that I almost excused myself from lip-synching the song I volunteered to perform during the entertainment portion of the evening. But I soldiered on and my turn came, I lip-synched Peggy Lee's classic version of Fever.

Although I knew the words of the song cold, I immediately messed up, snapping my fingers out of synch with the recording. I also flubbed a few words and at the end of the song. I was unhappy with my performance, yet I received a nice applause from the audience and everyone I spoke to about it said I did a good job, but I dunno.

(I asked a friend to use my camera to take some photos of my performance, but they all were out of focus, so the photo accompanying this post is another one from the spa.)

After the entertainment, I sought out my old friends to catch up with their lives. For me, chit-chatting with friends and acquaintances was the highlight of the evening. I ran out of gab and friends just past midnight and decided to depart.

I loved catching up with my old friends, but I have outgrown the banquet. It is just another closet and I am way out of the closet. I have been out in the real world interacting as a woman; I don't need a trans event to get out en femme. And I certainly don't need its safety net.

I don't rule out attending another trans event in the future, but there are many other things I would prefer to do en femme.

Saturday at the Spa

My journey on Saturday began mid-morning with a 90-mile trip across the state to The Facial Clinic and Med Spa in Dayville. I met the proprietor Jila Clark face-to-face for the first time, but it was more like a meeting of old girlfriends because we have been exchanging e-mails for weeks.

By the way, although I showed up in boy mode, Jila treated me as a lady throughout the afternoon, which just added to the wonderful experience.

Jila is a licensed clinical aesthetician and a state certified acne specialist, so I knew I was in good hands. Basically, she performed two procedures on me over the next three hours:

DermaSound --- an ultrasonic facial

Myotonology --- the only US-patented, FDA-approved procedure for facial toning

I have never had anything like this before. I have had a few makeovers in the past, but all the makeup artist did was clean my face with some kind of skin chemicals. Dermasound and Myotonology was something way beyond those simple cleansing procedures. Instead, I was going to get a deep cleansing facial and a noninvasive facelift.

Note that I have a high tolerance for pain. For example, I usually skip the novocaine for a simple tooth filling. During the processes that Jila performed, I felt no discomfort, but your mileage may vary. Rather than discomfort, the processes were soothing at times, while at other times, it felt like my skin was being awakened from the doldrums.

I am not going to detail the procedures because you can read the them on Jila's Web site. However, when she was done, the results amazed me.

Even before I looked in a mirror, I could feel a difference. My face felt tighter or toned; something I have never felt before.

When I looked in the mirror, the difference amazed me. I looked younger and more feminine. My lips, especially my upper lip, was fuller. My cheekbones were more prominent. My eyes --- I still can't get over my eyes --- looked young again. The fine lines and wrinkles were gone and my eyes looked bigger and perky, rather than droopy. And this was all before Jila applied makeup! 

By the way, as I write this two days later, I can still feel and see the difference.

After the DermaSound and Myotonology, Jila did my makeup. I was in for a surprise because I did not know she planned to airbrush all the parts of my upper body that my dress for the evening would reveal. She also used makeup to accentuate my collarbone --- something I would have never thought to do!

Jila was meticulous with my makeup application carefully picking out just the right colors and applying them like an artist. (This old dog learned a few new tricks in the process.) When she was done about an hour later, it was ready to dress up.

I brought five of my favorite wigs so that Jila could pick out the best for me to wear. But, as it turned out, she liked the very first one that I put on. She styled it a bit, then she advised me as to what jewelry to wear, and then we were done. Before I left to attend the Connecticut Outreach Society's banquet, Jila shot some photos for posterity.

Jila was profuse with the compliments and I have to agree that I don't think I have ever looked better. As Jila accompanied me to my car, I met her husband; Jila told me later that he thought I looked "beautiful." I don't know if I looked beautiful, but I did feel fantastic!

worth a thousands words

A picture will have to suffice until I finish composing my words about Saturday. This is a photo of yours truly after getting the works done at The Facial Clinic and Med Spa.

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