Transitioning Smart

Calie of Calie's Chronicles fame has an excellent post about using your head if and when you transition.

I highly recommend it and urge you to read her wise words.

Miss S

Affirmation is a wonderful thing!

Earlier today, I e-mailed a friend of mine. In the e-mail, I called her "Miss K."

In her responding e-mail, she called me "Miss S."

It was just a little gesture, but it made my day!

I've known this friend, a genetic female, for nearly ten years. For most of that time, she knew me only in male mode.

I came out to her about a year ago and she has been very supportive.

We have plans to go out to dinner soon (both of us en femme). Dinner is on me.

Booth Babe Wear

I am looking for one or two new outfits to wear when I am working the booth at the Dayton, Ohio, Hamvention next month.

I touched upon this last week, but was unable to resolve anything because I caught something and felt too ill to go out to shop en femme.

I am not sure if I had a cold, an allergy attack, or a combination of the two. Whatever it was, it is still with me; it's not as bad as last week, but still annoying and very tiring.

So I want to look professional for my presentation at the booth.

I don't look good in suits. In my opinion, I think I look frumpy when I wear suits.

On the other hand, I think dresses look good on me. So my search begins in the dress racks, sizes 14 and 16.

Wish me luck!

Pink Toenails

(updated below)

Currently, there is a brouhaha concerning a J. Crew advertisement that depicts a Mom painting her son's toenails pink (because it is his favorite color).

One hockey puck claims that the advertisement is "blatant propaganda celebrating transgendered children."

The puck continues, "Propaganda pushing the celebration of gender-confused boys wanting to dress and act like girls is a growing trend, seeping into mainstream culture."

Another hockey puck warns, "Put some money aside for psychotherapy for the kid—and maybe a little for others who’ll be affected by your 'innocent' pleasure."

I cheer the celebration of transgender children!

If there was a celebration of T-kids when I was young, maybe my generation of trangender brothers and sisters would not be so fouled up as some of us are (present company included). And maybe my T-generation would not have to fear for our lives whenever we attempt to live the genders we were born to be, not the genders we were forced to be.

I jeer the proposition that painting a boy's toenails pink will cause that boy to become transgender.

If a boy wants to wear pink nail polish because it is his favorite color, then that's one thing. End of story.

If a boy is a "boy," painting his nails, putting a ribbon in his hair, or putting him in a dress will not convince him to be a girl. He will just be one unhappy boy.

On the other hand, if a boy wants to wear pink nail polish because he feels it is a girlish thing to do, then there is a chance that he really is a girl. Painting his nails, putting a ribbon in his hair, or putting him in a dress will help make "her" complete. Denying "her" will result in one frustrated unhappy child.

UPDATE: My friend Patty e-mailed me about this matter; I asked her if I could post her e-mail and here it is.

Seriously?

Do we have nothing better to set our tails on fire with than an innocent advertisement for clothing!

Dr. Albow needs to spend some of the $$$ he's stolen -- oops I mean $$$ he's earned practicing as a licensed clinician, spewing his Dr. Phil unvalidated psycho-babble on well needed psychotherapy for HIMSELF -- can you say latent homo/transphobic???

I, as a women, as a consumer and as someone not only in the helping profession, but also as someone specializing in gender and sexual expressions, identity and orientation am outraged that we continue to allow these "professionals" to speak out to the public, let alone practice individual therapy!  Now that's propaganda. 

Sharp-Dressed Men

Spring is in the air and it seems that males everywhere are donning pretty frocks to participate in womanless events, according to the many stories coming in on the mojo wire this week.

For example, Aunty Marlena revealed womanless beauty pageants in North Carolina, Mississippi, Tennessee, Texas, and again in Texas.

Meanwhile, Miss Google mentioned womanless pageants in Connecticut, Tennessee, and yet another in Tennessee.

Clive pointed out a viral video from Thailand.

And Aunty Marlena came back with a ton of Ednas (of Hairpspray fame) popping up in Alberta, California, Georgia, Michigan, New York, Texas, Some Place, and Some Place Else.

So, put on your favorite sundress and enjoy the femulating festivities!

So Now I'm Her Secretary

My Weekend

My health was up and down all week long last week. Home Friday after work and whatever I had notched it up a lot and I felt terrible; flu-like symptoms, but not quite the flu.

I felt terrible all day Saturday.

I feel a lot better today; not 100%, but a big improvement over Friday and Saturday.

I was not online much during the past two days, so I have some catching up to do.

Standby for the forthcoming catch-up.

Womanless Pageant Next Door!

Is there anything as rare as a womanless pageant north of the Mason-Dixon Line?

That rare event will actually take place a mere 20 miles from home: at the Warner Theater in Torrington, CT on April 27.

Shannon clued me in about the event and I found this related article.

Dubbed the "Woah-Man Beauty Pageant," it is a fund-raiser for a local food bank with 43 local "girls" competing for the crown. A bridal shop will provide the dresses and gowns and hair salons will provide wigs and makeup.

I hope this is a trend and there will be more womanless pageants in this neck of the woods; maybe one that is so local that I will be able to participate.

High Heel Hangover

6 Steps to Getting Back on Your Feet Fast

By Neal M. Blitz, D.P.M., F.A.C.F.A.S., Chief of Foot Surgery and Associate Chairman of Orthopaedics, Bronx-Lebanon Hospital in New York

"It is no secret that high heels are 'bad' for your feet and over time they can cause all sorts of foot problems, but it's the day after wearing high heels that women can have major foot pain or discomfort. This day-after foot pain from wearing high heels is the called the 'High Heel Hangover'."

Read the rest of the story here on The Huffington Post.

Wednesday Washout

I have been wrestling with a cold for a few days and when I awoke this morning, I felt worse.

After contemplating my situation for about an hour, I decided that I would not have much fun out en femme the way I was feeling, so I cancelled my plans and spent the day in boring boy mode.

Wednesday Wanderings

I'm out en femme all-day Wednesday.

I was not sure I'd be able to do it, but I managed to knock off all my hot projects at work and can get away for a weekday.

I plan to go shopping to buy a couple of new outfits for my 4-day excursion en femme in May. I will be working a booth at a convention for two of those days and want to look professional.

The woman who work the other booths at that convention are all over the spectrum in the fashion department. There are a few "booth babes" in revealing tops, short shorts or short skirts, and sky-high heels, but the majority of booth women dress more casually wearing slacks or skirts and tops.

I prefer to dress somewhere in between, that is, more professional than the casual majority, but not too professional as to make people wonder what my profession may be (if you know what I mean).

So I will visit the mall tomorrow.

In the past, I've bought some nice outfits at JCPenney, but my most recent shopping trips there have been disappointing. Hopefully, I will have better luck tomorrow.

After the mall, if it is not too late and I am not too tired, I may go to the casino for an hour or two, then back home before the sun sets.

Rubbeldiekatz

While searching the Internet for new photos of Matthias Schweighöfers in the film Rubbeldiekatz, I discovered (1) the photo accompanying today's blog post and (2) a description of the film's plot that differs slightly from the plot I read about back in January.

Previously dubbed a German version of the film Tootsie, I found this plot description on KillerMovies:

"Based on a screenplay by Anika Decker (Rabbit Without Ears), the comedy, previously known as Woman in Love, but now carrying the working title of Rubbeldiekatz, follows an unsuccessful actor whose life takes a dramatic turn when he is mistakenly cast as a woman in a big Hollywood pic."

That differs from the plot of Tootsie in which an unemployed actor dresses as a woman in order to find work and lands the part in a daytime television soap opera.

I know the plots are similar, but for an anal retentive purest like me, I think they differ enough to mention.

Monumental Monday

Height is the subject of this first day of the work week with five additions to my Famous Females of Height List.

5'8" – Abbie Cornish – actress – film A Good Year

5'8" – Amber Heard (photo right) – actress – television Playboy

5'9" – Madison Riley – actress – film Grown Ups

6'0" – Antonia Okonma – actress – television (UK)

6'0" – Beth Orton – singer

The last two are from Meg of Call Me Meg fame… thank you, Girlfriend.

The Color Purple

I love the color purple.

The dress I wore my first time out en femme was purple and I have owned many purple outfits over the years. I believe it is a good color for me; in my opinion, I look good in my photos when I wear purple.

Take it from this fashionista: When you find a color that suits you, don't mess with success. Instead, add it to your wardrobe and put together outfits around that color.

While I was looking for something else on my computer this morning, I found the accompanying photo. I don't remember posting it here before, so here it is in all my purple glory back in 2003.

YouTube Femulate Channel

I have nothing to do with it, but there is now a Femulate channel on YouTube. Ashley informed me about it and I checked it out briefly, but I did not watch the three videos that are online there. Maria Jose from Finland is responsible for the channel.

Join the Club

If I Could Be A Woman

This video was a recommendation on Genderfork, a blog that I recommend.

Aspiring Ednas

Marlena wrote, "Your readers may find it interesting that a number of high schools and amateur theater groups in the U.S. and U.K. are now mounting their own productions of the musical Hairspray, complete with what looks like some quite good femulating by a troupe of aspiring Edna Turnblads in drag."

Check out these examples: 1, 2, and 3.

Real World

After an event like the banquet on Saturday night, it is very difficult to return to the "real" world on Monday morning.

After my daily regimen of moisturizer and anti-aging creams this morning, I wanted to apply my makeup.

When I walked into my closet to fetch clothes to wear today, I wanted to pick out a dress and a matching bag and heels.

Throughout the day, my feet still felt like I was wearing heels and I caught myself walking on my tiptoes a number of times and if no one was around, I kept walking on my tiptoes..

Also, my mind was somewhere else today.

Luckily, today I was Photoshopping images in an assembly-line fashion --- so my mind could be somewhere else.

And somewhere else is a place I have visited many times in the past.

It is a place where I debate myself about living in the "real" world vs. living in the real world.

So far, the debate always concludes with me returning to the "real" world.

My Feet Hurt

Saturday evening, I attended the annual banquet of the Connecticut Outreach Society at the Four Points Sheraton in Meriden.

I began primping at 2:30 PM and was out the door at 5 PM.

Twenty-five minutes later, I was ringing the bell at my friend Patty's home to show her what I had wrought. Patty answered the door, but she would not let me in because her and her hubby had the bug and did not want me to get it. So I removed my fur coat and modeled my outfit for her while standing on her front porch. She loved my dress and my wig; she said it is the most flattering wig she has ever seen me in.

As I put my coat on and prepared to depart, Patty said she had a gift for me. I could not imagine what she had for me as she repaired to the kitchen to fetch the surprise. She returned with a Barbie Fashionistas head with long wavy blond hair.

I have not played with Barbie dolls in awhile, but evidently they now have a Fashionistas series that allows you to swap heads with different hairdos and makeups. The swappable head  Patty gave me is called "Cutie." She gifted me it to me because of my reputation as a "fashionista." I love it!

And my reputation is well-deserved. My outfit for the banquet included a pair of sexy strappy sandals. I had worn these shoes to the banquet a few years ago and they were foot cripplers. But I figured that since I lost some weight since I wore them last, that they would not hurt as much. Fashionista that I am, I also figured that I would put up with any pain in deference to being fashionable.

As I stood on Patty's doorstep, my feet were already killing me (specifically the balls of my feet) and the night was still young. Patty said I should get gel inserts that they sell to alleviate foot pain.

I thought that that was such a good suggestion that I decided to stop at a CVS on the way to the Sheraton. So, I thanked Patty for the gift and was on my way again.

Five minutes later, I was walking into the CVS way overdressed for a shopping trip. As I walked through the store searching for the foot supplies, one guy checked me out, but the other customers paid me no mind.

I found the foot supplies rack, but what I needed was out of stock, so I exited CVS.

I had a laugh as I walked by the check-out counter. The woman working the register is the cashier that always gives me an odd look when I am in boy mode purchasing L'eggs pantyhose, Kiss stick-on nails, or Nair hair remover. Now here I was walking right past her dressed to kill in girl mod and she did not even notice.

As I got back in my car, I heard a wolf whistle. I did not look around to see where it came from; instead, I got in my car and once I was seated, I looked in the rear and side view mirrors trying to find the whistler, but I was unsuccessful.

I drove to the hotel, parked my car, and walked gingerly inside. I found our banquet room and a lot of old friends and acquaintances. Eventually, there were 50 transgender folks and their significant others in attendance ranging in age from the early 20s to late 70s. I knew about half the crowd; the other half were new to me.

I sat with a table full of old friends and our after-dinner speaker, Ethan St. Pierre. The conversation at that table was rousing and a lot of fun; it made for a great evening.

Old friends stopped by to chat and compare notes on what we had done since our last meeting, which in many cases was last year's banquet.

Wendy, who I have known for over 20 years came by and she was wearing a dress that was exactly like mine except that the silver and gold flecks in the vertical ribbons of my dress were replaced by red flecks in hers (we both bought our dresses at Dress Barn).

Wendy introduced me to one of her friends, Tracey, who is a regular reader of this blog and we had a nice conversation and short photo shoot.,

A cocktail hour, an excellent meal, Ethan's after dinner speech, a poetry reading by Tristan and three songs performed by one talented lady, Deja, filled the first half of the evening, then the DJ virtually spun platters  the rest of the evening.

Since my feet hurt, I only danced to two songs: one I requested ("Dance, Dance, Dance" by the Beach Boys) and "Legs" by ZZ Top. I considered dancing barefooted, but I did not want to ruin my fashionista image. Only kidding! Actually, I worried that I might not be able to get my shoes back on and I did not relish walking barefooted across the parking lot in 20 degree weather. (By the way, a pair of my boy shoes awaited me in the car for the drive home.)

The banquet ended at midnight and four of us moved on to the hotel bar. Saturday night was "salsa night" and the bar was full with mainly a male crowd. The testosterone level was so high that I walked out after walking in, but my friends coaxed me back in and we found four seats together at the bar.

The guys stayed away, but the lady who manages the bar and one of the cocktail waitresses engaged us in conversation. The waitress remarked that we did our makeup better than she did (she needed no makeup, in my opinion) and the manager wanted to know who did our makeup (we all admitted to doing our own makeup). I nursed one drink for an hour and departed about 1:30 AM, and I was home before 2 AM.

During the evening, a long-time friend asked, "So when are you going to get it over with and go 24/7?"

I shrugged. Later I asked her why she asked me that question and her response was the highlight of the evening up to that point.

She said that I have always put such a great effort into my presentation, that mine was the best, that I pass as a woman, et cetera., et cetera, and it follows that I should live 24/7 as a woman. She is well-aware of my marriage situation and realizes I cannot live 24/7; her remark was in jest, but with a big grain of truth embedded in it.

That highlight was topped later in the evening by another long-time friend, who I see about once or twice a year. She remarked, "You are so feminine now," I was surprised at her unsolicited comment and she continued explaining how feminine I have become in my speech and mannerisms.

Wow!

Consciously, I am not intentionally acting or speaking in a more feminine manner. I act naturally without any pretenses.

Have I evolved without realizing it? Am I now completely comfortable in my skin, which is decidedly female, and have escaped all those male shackles that have been holding her back for so long?

Yes.