"Tuesday, I spent the day en femme" again.

Just some additional thoughts on what I wrote here yesterday about my Tuesday out en femme.

All the comments and e-mails I received (so far) on the matter were of the opinion that my outfit looked fine and I had nothing to worry about. Therefore, short hemlines will continue to play an important role in my wardrobe.

At outreach, someone in each class asked me about my sexual orientation. Some students were taken aback (others, not so much) when I indicated that my preference was women and if you accept my how I identify gender-wise, that makes me a lesbian.

Someone in each class also asked me if I presented as a women because I was just interested in all the trappings of being female or was it something more than that, something internal. I explained that it was more than just the trappings of being female. I never felt that I was a female trapped in a male body. Instead, I was "me" trapped in the expectations of what being a "male" was all about.

Although I embraced many things considered "male," I also rejected many "male" things, while embracing many "female" things. As a result, friends and enemies (especially enemies) considered me to be effeminate.

I never tried to be effeminate just as I never tried to be macho, but society branded me "effeminate" nonetheless. I never understood why because I was just being "me."

Yes, I love all the female trappings; I love presenting as a woman, but that's only the tip of the iceberg called "me." 

On a lighter note... My wig continues to impress. A student asked me about my hair and I revealed that it was a wig, which surprised many of the students. I explained that the dark roots of my wig "sells" it and the students agreed with my assessment.

Tuesday, I spent the day en femme.

Tuesday, I spent the day en femme.

I wore my argyle tunic, black ribbed tights, and black mid-calf boots. After I looked in the mirror, I wondered if I was showing too much leg.

"L" and "N" at work wore similar outfits on Monday. "L" wore leggings instead of tights, but they were form-fitting and could be mistaken for tights. So I figured that my tights could be mistaken for leggings, unless the viewer got real close.

Who was I trying to kid?

You had to be myopic not to see that I was wearing tights. The ribbing gave them away. If the tights were a solid color, then mistaking them for form-fitting leggings was in the realm of possibility, but the ribbing was very apparent and to my knowledge, there is no such thing as ribbed leggings.

So why did I go out showing so much leg? Because after I looked in the mirror, I liked the way that I looked!

I was out the door at 9:30 AM.

First, I wanted to see the man with all the toys, so I drove to the mall. I entered through JCPenney and spent about 20 minutes browsing through items in the woman's clothing department.I saw a few items of interest and tried on a couple of jackets, but I discarded each one for different reasons.

While I was in JCPenney, I was very self-conscious about my leggy outfit and I kept looking to see if I was attracting any attention. I noticed none, so I felt more comfortable with my appearance, and walked out into the mall.

At the center of the mall, I found Santa; he was ready for action and I was his first customer. I gave him a break and instead of sitting on his lap, I sat next to him.

While his elves snapped a couple of photos, I told Santa what I wanted for Christmas and he said that if I had been a good girl this year, he would see what he could do.

I chose which photo I thought was the best and the elves printed two copies of my pick (see below) to take home with me.

I exited the mall and drove to a strip of strip malls about ten minutes from the university where I would be doing outreach after noon. I intended to visit Dress Barn, Payless Shoes, Marshalls, and Kohls, but by the time I finished visiting Dress Barn, it was time to drive to the university.

By the way, I tried on five dresses at "the Barn," but bought none. Three were too small and the two that fit looked too big on me.

I arrived at the university and pulled up to the guard house that guarded the parking lot. After I explained why I was visiting the university, the guard said, "Park anywhere that is not reserved, Ma'am."

"Thank you, sir."

I parked the car, walked to class, and on the way, a group of guys ogled me as I walked by.

"Thank you, guys."

At the classroom, I met up with three other transgenders and the spouse of one. I had done outreach with all of them on many other occasions.

The two Human Sexuality classes had approximately 30 students each with females outnumbering males by about a 4-to-1.

The routine is that each of us spends about three to five minutes each telling our life stories in a nutshell. Then the students ask questions.

We hear many of the questions (like "How did you choose your female name?") over and over again at each outreach, but there are always a few unique questions that require some thought to answer.

Yesterday, the students were very enthusiastic, had a lot good questions; so many so that we ran out of time before they had a chance to ask them all.

After the class, we read the students' reactions to our presentations. Yesterday, I lost count of the number of reactions that admitted that before our presentations, the students thought that all transgenders were gay and now they learned that that legend is not true. Another common thread was that some of the students were apprehensive about our appearance, but afterwords, they felt very comfortable with us.

After the classes, I called it a day. I had not slept well the night before and I was exhausted, so I drove home and went to bed early. But before I fell asleep, I reflected on another fun and productive day out en femme and began looking forward to the next opportunity to be me.

'Tis the Season

Besides myself, there are two other female fashionistas here at work.

Everyday, I check to see what they are wearing and on Monday, they showed up similarly attired.

"N" wore a rust-colored sweater dress or tunic, black tights, and black mid-calf boots.

"L" wore a red sweater dress or tunic, black leggings, and black booties.

(I wrote "sweater dress or tunic" because their sweater dresses were short enough to be considered "tunics" or their tunics were long enough to be considered "dresses.")

Anyway, guess what I was planning to wear on my day out en femme on Tuesday?

A purple tunic, black tights or leggings, and black mid-calf boots.

Monday Randomness

This blog's popularity still amazes me. These days, it averages about 4,400 hits per day. At that rate, the hit counter should pass 1.5 million sometime today.

As a result of the blog's popularity, I get a lot of e-mail. I try to answer each e-mail as soon as possible, but sometimes I cannot; the mail piles up and I get a little behind, but I still manage to answer most in a day or two. I apologize if I do not answer your e-mail fast enough, but I am doing the best that I can.

In a clip for Oprah's show today, she expresses excitement that her guest, Keith Urban, has been clean for four years. Hey, Oprah, I've been clean for 59 years; when am I going to be on your show?

I'm looking forward to Tuesday. A bad day out en femme is better than a good day of fishing

Just wondering if Sarah Palin can see North Korea from her backyard?

Speaking of facelifts, here are ten reasons why you should get a dog instead of a facelift.

Stana, 13 November 2010, Hartford

Avoiding a Black and Blue Friday

Thanksgiving is a difficult holiday for girls (male or female) trying to maintain their figures.

I did not want to be blue on "Black Friday," so I refused to get on the bathroom scale on Friday. Saturday morning, I gritted my teeth and climbed on the scale; I was happy to see that I gained only one pound.

It should be a piece of cake to lose that pound in time for my next outing en femme on Tuesday, when I will speak at two human sexuality classes at a local university. I also hope to do some holiday shopping and visit a jolly old elf.

As usual, I am looking forward to doing outreach at the two classes as well as experiencing a day when I will be myself.

Bras for Girls, Bras for Boys, Bras for Everyone

A female acquaintance obtained employment as a salesperson at a local Victoria's Secret store. Her first day on the job was Wednesday and she had one male customer (in boy mode) who wanted to be measured for a bra.

Today will be her second day on the job. I wonder how many boys buying bras for themselves she will encounter today, or was Wednesday's encounter an anomaly.

By the way, her store is the same Victoria's Secret store that I frequent.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Transgender Thanksgiving Trivia

Did you know that Provincetown Harbor is where the Pilgrims initially anchored the Mayflower in 1620 after their ocean voyage from England? (Provincetown is the site of Fantasia Fair, the longest-running transgender event of its kind in the New World.)

What Were You Made Of?

Among the books I owned as a child was a volume of nursery rhymes. That book included the following verse.

What Are Little Boys Made Of?

What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails,
And puppy-dogs' tails;
That's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice,
And all that's nice;
That's what little girls are made of.

As a child, I found frogs and snails repugnant and I was afraid of dogs. On  the other hand, I loved sugar and spice. Also, I preferred things that were nice versus things that were not so nice, which often seemed to be preferred by my male contemporaries.

I was a little girl, but I did not know it. Luckily, I figured it out after I grew up to be a big girl.

Black Velvet (Not Friday) On My Mind

While I was admiring the holiday dresses online at Spiegel this morning I had a flashback.

I recalled driving around town in the mid-1970s and encountering a billboard for Black Velvet Whisky featuring a blonde in a black velvet dress sprawled seductively across 50 feet of horizontal advertising space.

I had seen similar advertisements in magazines, but this was my first Black Velvet Girl billboard encounter. The combination of the model's beauty, the contrast of between her blonde do and her black dress, and her immense size was dazzling. I kept an eye out for more Black Velvet billboards during my automobile outings and during the next half-dozen years or so, I had many encounters.

Guys encountering such advertisements might wish that they could bed a Black Velvet model. Gals encountering such advertisements might wish they could look like a Black Velvet model.

I wished I could do both.

Girl Time

After I finished the yard work yesterday afternoon, I had some girl time for myself.

Tackling My Cosmetics Box

After my last Sephora shopping spree, I could no longer stuff all my warpaint in the Wal*Mart fishing tackle box that I use to store my cosmetics, so it was time to do some housecleaning.

I threw out a slew of old used mascaras. I also moved a load of free samples cosmetics that I may never use into the old shoebox where I keep such stuff. (Someday I will have to clean out the shoebox!)

After all was said and done, I had room to spare in the tackle box and was even able to close its lid without any effort. (The photo above is after housecleaning.)

"Leggy" No More

Friday, I exchanged e-mail with my friend and fashion consultant Patty.

The main fashion topic was my short gray sweater dress and how to wear it without affirming my nickname ("Leggy"). Patty made some suggestions and late yesterday afternoon, I was able to try them out.

She was right on the money and now I have two "new" outfits to wear my next two times out en femme.

A New Twist in Co-Ed Dorms

Stana’s Stuff

TGIF

I love the Friday before Thanksgiving. It is on the cusp of a weekend, followed by a short work week and a four-day weekend!

TDOR

Although there is a Transgender Day of Remembrance event nearby tomorrow, a scheduling conflict prevents me from attending. Family comes first.

Femulate Her

I select the images I use in the “Femulate Her” sidebar for a variety of reasons. Usually, because I like the outfit; it is something I wish I owned or could wear.

Occasionally, I select the image because in addition to liking the outfit, the model has physical attributes that resemble a transwoman. Today's “Femulate Her” image is an example of that in my humble opinion; your mileage may vary.

Outreach

Professor Schildroth e-mailed me to ask if I could do outreach at her two human sexuality classes. I happily accepted her invitation, so I will be visiting Southern Connecticut State University soon.

30 Rock

I love 30 Rock; it is one of the very few television shows I always watch.

It seems that during the past year or so, every episode has at least one trans reference. Last night’s episode had two.

Maybe I don’t watch enough television and trans references are more common than I think, but it seems to me that 30 Rock has a lot more than the other television shows I frequent, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Girl Talk

Yesterday, a co-worker who knows about Stana wore black calf-length boots with a 3- or 4-inch stiletto heel.

I said I liked her boots and that led to a girl-to-girl conversation about boots, footwear, and the local consignment shops.

I showed her my photo from Saturday night and she loved my dress and shoes, which led to further girl talk about high heel slingbacks and the pitfalls of wearing them.

I enjoyed the girl talk.

And I love being a girl!

Just Following Orders

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I've been a very good girl this year, so I hope you will grant me one wish. For Christmas, I want the dress that Anne Hathaway wore on the red carpet last night. It does not have to be an original, a knock-off would be fine, but please Santa gift me that dress and I promise to be a very good girl next year, too!

Love,

Stana

And It Suits Him Fine

Avoiding Foot Pain From High Heels

“What women (or femulator – Ed.) doesn't love the way her legs look in a dress with a great pair of high heels? It creates a longer line, great calve's curve and sleek appearance. With the holiday season creeping in, there will be more parties, galas and long work days with your feet balancing on the most adorned shoes. Although some women will wear flats or sneakers to and from events, the fact remains we are still wearing our heels.”

So, fitness expert Andrea Metcalf describes three simple steps to avoid foot pain without forsaking the joy of wearing heels. Read all about it here in The Huffington Post.

Transgender Day of Remembrance This Saturday

Saturday, November 20 is the official Transgender Day of Remembrance. On that day, transgenders and their allies all over the world will honor our brothers and sisters whose lives were snuffed out solely because they were trans.

If you wish to participate in the Day, the Transgender Day of Remembrance web site lists the location and specifics of all the planned events. There are a lot to choose from; I count 15 in New England alone and 14 in the Tri-State Area (CT-NJ-NY).

Unmentionable

Coming a Long Way

Reflecting on my Saturday night out, a few thoughts come to mind.

•   Signs on the doors of the men's and women's restrooms declared that the restrooms were "trans-inclusive." I had a laugh when I saw the signs because in Connecticut, those signs are like carrying coals to Newcastle. Years ago, Connecticut courts decided that its citizens could use the restroom facility that matched their gender presentation (if you’re dressed like a boy, use the men’s room; if you’re dressed like a girl, use the ladies’ room). I guess the signs were there to clue in the clueless, but I was amused nonetheless.

•   While I was dancing, I noticed an attractive 30-something woman dancing nearby who was checking me out. Our eyes met an inordinate number of times. Finally she flashed a smile in my direction and I returned the favor. She wore no make-up and she was dancing with another woman, who I assumed was her date or partner. Her dance partner had her back to me, but when the song ended and they walked off the dance floor hand-in-hand, I was able to see her partner. She resembled me! She was a tall 50-something blonde wearing full make-up and a short hair style very similar to mine. Go figure.

•   The photo accompanying this post is another of me dressed at home before heading out to Hartford Saturday night.

•   Going out en femme is now so natural to me that I don't think about it. Saturday night, I interacted with civilians both male and female without giving it a thought.

That is in contrast to my outings in the not too distant past when I'd be inside my female embodiment wondering if the person I am about to encounter is going to figure me out or whether the person I just encountered did figure me out or Goddess forbid, if the next person I am about to encounter is male and is there anyway I can avoid him!

Those days age long gone.

Now that I am not thinking about how other people react to me, I am able to let my personality out of the box and really be me. For example, while I was waiting for the elevator at the hotel hosting the dinner-dance, I made small talk with two guys who were also waiting for the elevator and I even cracked a joke that made them laugh.

All I have to say is that I've come a long way, baby, and it is wonderful!