Is My Slip Showing?

What I Did On My Holiday Vacation ― Part 2

Most or perhaps, all of my wife’s relatives know about my crossdressing, talk about it amongst themselves, but never say a word to me about it. They have actually used it against me in some family matters, but when confronted why a particular decision was made, they give another reason that makes no sense, but covers their transphobia.

Most of those transphobes are dead now, but when they were all still alive, I always wanted to attend one of their family functions en femme, but I never did it in deference to my wife.

Anyway, my wife’s cousin, Wendi, organized a Christmas party for my wife’s surviving relatives. We attended and small gifts were exchanged among the small group of survivors. Not being blood, I did not expect a gift, but Wendi gave me a gift. Unwrapping the gift revealed four pairs of socks, but not your typical boring manly socks. Instead, they were multicolor patterned  socks.

Wendi asked if I liked the socks and when I said that I did, she remarked, “I thought you would like them because you were always different than the other guys."

Thank you, Wendi!

I have one sibling, a sister about 18 months younger than I. We have always been close, as close as siblings can be.

Since we were so close, I always felt that she knew all about me. However, she never mentioned my trans being; it was the proverbial elephant in the room.

I discussed this with my wife and we agreed that I should come out to my sister and undo the elephant, which I did one Sunday after dinner about 15 years ago. It did not go well.

My sister is very open-minded and includes gays among her closest friends, but she did not accept a trans brother ― too close to home I guess ― and after coming out, we never broached the subject again. (Although I do believe that her and my wife discuss the matter between themselves.

Since then, she occasionally would ask me what my plans were for the day or evening and if my plans were trans-related, I did not lie. I would tell her I was doing something girly and she would say, "OK," and would drop the subject.

As luck would have it, she asked me if I would be home on the evening of the Avon representative Christmas party because she wanted to stop by to pick up some Christmas gifts she had shipped to my house. I told her I had girly plans, so she said she would stop by another time.

When my sister learned that I had to leave the Christmas party almost immediately after arriving because of a family health issue, she e-mailed the following, "She got dressed up and went all the way for nothing?  Bummer. I'm sorry."

Although she referred to me in the third person, my sister called me "she."
 

Wearing Nine West.

Actor Bert Wheeler (right) in the 1931 film Peach-O-Reno (aka Peach O’Reno).

The Organized Woman

What I Did On My Holiday Vacation — Part 1

I was on vacation the last two weeks and one thing I wanted to do during that time off was to get my girl organized.

There were two fronts that I had to address: my makeup box and my closet.

Years ago, I bought the largest fishing tackle box I could find to store my makeup. Despite its size, every couple of years its contents grows and it becomes difficult to close the box, so a little house cleaning is in order.

The box reached that point recently, so I sat down with the box a few days before Christmas and had at it. Following advice like this from Good Housekeeping, I tossed any opened mascaras and liquid eye liners. 

That alone freed up a lot of space, but then I closely examined the various cosmetics that I purchased, used only once or never (glittery blue eyeshadow!) I was surprised how much there was in that category and I tossed most of it leaving even more space in my box for new makeup acquisitions.

I also tossed most of my makeup brushes and replaced them with a new set. This was a wash space-wise, but it was something that I had to do because the brush bristles were straggly and no longer very useful for precise makeup applications. 

Whereas, the male side of my closet clothes rack has not grown much recently, the female side has grown by leaps and bounds and now occupies more space than the male side. And all the clothes, male and female are packed so tightly that moving an item to or from the rack is difficult.

I went through most of the clothing on the rack and discarded about ten items, but that did not make much of a difference — things were still tight.

Years ago, my wife and I stocked up on “Super Hangars” (as in the photo above) at the dollar store and I used them for my male tops, but I never used them on the distaff side of my clothes rack.

Why not? I don’t know, but the time was right and I used them to hang all my female tops and bottoms, but not dresses because the dresses lowest on the Super Hangars would interfere with the shoe boxes stacked four high on the floor below the clothes on the rack.

The Super Hangars did the trick. It gave the clothing a little breathing room and it also organized my womenswear. (While re-racking, I also organized everything by color as any organized woman should!)

Back to work drag.

Cristian Castro dressed up for Genitallica's Quiéreme music video (2014).

Carol's Favorite Photo (of Carol!)

This picture is important to me because it was the first occasion (March 2013) that I was out and about in public as Carol. Before this (for about 50 years), I’d been limited to secretive behind closed curtains efforts and the occasional quick trip round the block. Also it expresses the real me, not a fashion plate, rather someone comfortable in casual clothes, more interested in feeling like a woman than looking like a woman.

Obviously I had a mentor present, encouraging me and taking the photos. Thank you Ophelia. The boost to my confidence on this outing allowed me to enjoy many more solo efforts since.

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 photos!

Wearing Wyatt.

Ed Anderson, recording engineer, posing as Miss Big Pink on the cover of 

The Basement Tapes, a 1975 LP by Bob Dylan and The Band.

Marlene's Favorite Photo (of Marlene!)

I don't think I have a favorite photo to share, really; I like many of mine very much! But I do think you might like to see this. I have been growing my hair out for a few years now and it's just starting to get long enough to use on its own. Here it is, with a fresh professional color and quick styling (and new glasses suitable for boy or girl mode).

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 photos!

Wearing Boston Proper.

Alex Bekker, model.

Modi Operandi

Happy New Year

Actor Alan Cumming in British television's The Runaway (2011).

Happy New Bra!

Elle e-mailed be about checking off another item from her bucket list.

One of my bucket items, and yours as well, was getting a bra-fitting. I did it!

Actually, I was not totally committed to the idea until my daughter said, "Just do it."

Totally drab in a T-shirt and my Gloria Vanderbuilt jeans Glorias (running shoes), I asked the nice lady in Nordstrom if I could get one. She could not have been nicer and said, "Of course."

She grabbed a tape measure and we went to the men's dressing room and like any other woman, she measured me and said she would return with some samples.

When she returned with a 42C, I was amazed always thinking I was a 48B. I had brought along some inserts, but the ones she brought were much better. She put me at ease and we had a nice girly conversation about women's breasts, about bras in depth and about how 90% are wearing the wrong size. We also talked about all her trans customers.

I left with a nice little number and the inserts. A fine bra it is that fits like a glove. A good bra will cost more than the usual, but the fit is amazing.

All in all, we are our own worst enemy when it comes to fearing this. Women are, like you have said, fascinated by us.

Wearing Ann Taylor.

Womanless beauty pageant contestant.

High Heel Hacks

I love wearing high heels, so I really appreciate these five genius high heel hacks from WhoWhatWear:

☞ How to figure out if shoes will be uncomfortable before you buy them. 

☞ Why you should not drive a car while wearing heels.

☞ Seven tricks to help you walk more gracefully.

☞ A simple trick that lets you wear even your highest heels painlessly.

☞ How investing in a really good pair of designer heels will ensure you're more comfortable. 

You will find the high heel hacks here.

Wearing Alice + Olivia.

Actor Darren Trumeter on television's The Whitest Kids U'Know (2007-2014).

Sheila's Favorite Photos (of Sheila!)

These are three of my favorite photos. The pink satin chiffon pose was taken at Southern Comfort Conference (SCC) in Atlanta in September 2013. The blue cocktail dress and faux white fur stole was taken at a T-girls house party in the Washington, DC area in November 2012. The houndstooth business suit pose was at my Orlando area social and support group meeting circa 2007.

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 photos! And by the way, there are currently 17 girls' photos in the queue.

Wearing La Redoute.

Billy Bigwood, professional femulator.

Nadya's Favorite Photos (of Nadya!)

I like the first one not because it’s a great picture, but because of the story behind it and the person who took it – an old college friend (in fact, the best man at my wedding), who knew about Nadya, but had never met her in person before.

We got to know each other in college more than 30 years ago and had stayed friends through multiple countries and cities. So when my marriage was breaking up eight years ago, he and his wife (also an old college friend) were among the first people I turned up – and among the first people I told about Nadya. (And that’s a whole other story.)

He lives in Chicago and I don’t get out there much, so when I found out I had a business trip planned there, I contacted him and asked if I could extend my stay a couple of nights at their house. And also that Nadya was planning a night out before that and whether he wanted to join her to explore the Windy City’s nightlife. He didn’t hesitate.

Fast forward to that Friday night and a frantic rush to get ready after a day of meetings. I wasn’t nervous; I just wanted to make a good first impression. I need not have worried. When I greeted him at the hotel bar, I got a big hug, a “you clean up very nicely” and we launched into a long catch up on life, love, family and work.

It wasn’t until about an hour and a half later, at dinner, that we actually got around to talking about Nadya – and mostly about how she seemed to be much more fun and outgoing that the other me.

We listened to jazz at the Green Mill and then show tunes at the Redhead Piano Bar (where he took that picture of me). Before we called it a night, we agreed to a change of plans: Nadya would accompany him to the Bears game on Sunday and hang out at the house that weekend. And so she did.

This time I was more nervous, not about introducing Nadya to his wife, who knew about her, but to their just-turned-adult children. Coming down the stairs (in a practical outfit of jeans, blouse and boots – no skyscraper heels that day!), I wasn’t sure what to expect: Smiles? Giggles?  Hugs?  Questions? But, of course, they were incredibly blasé as most 18-year-olds are about things in their parents’ life.

As were his friends in the season ticket space at Soldier Field, more intent on how badly the Bears were playing than on the strange, tall woman in their presence. And after the game, the three of us headed down to the South Side to soak in more jazz, a walk around the University of Chicago campus and dinner. A completely normal day with old friends, but a new kind of normality for Nadya. A very comfortable, comforting one. And one I could get used to.

That was in late September.  I’d like to think that’s part of the reason why I look so at ease in the other picture taken at the Way Out Club in London last week on another business trip. That’s really my favorite picture so far – I don’t think I’ve ever looked that relaxed and comfortable as I do there with makeup and hair coming together (finally!) just so and even managing a warm smile. 

Sometimes the best thing to make a photo work is being comfortable in your own skin.

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 photos! And by the way, there are currently 18 girls' photos in the queue.

Wearing Nicole Miller.

Femulating in Amsterdam in 1982.

To all my readers…

Doctor’s Orders

By Paula Gaikowski

The delight I experienced from spending several days en femme while in the UK was followed by a crash in emotions when reality set in after a few days back. The need for a girlcation day was evident, however getting out and about is always a bit tricky for me.

I decided to schedule an appointment with my therapist Dr. D and visit as my true self. So it was fun preparing for the appointment. Shopping at a new found Savers thrift store I found near work I scored big, with a tags still on pair of Gloria Vanderbilt black slacks, coordinated with a violet Vera Wang sweater.

The challenge for me was getting out of the house. Without going into details, I had to dress and leave my makeup and wig off and put the finishing touches on in a parking lot. I have to say I hated this. It made me feel like I was doing something sneaky and wrong. I love dressing and primping at home or in the hotel room where I can enjoy the experience. Here I was looking over my shoulder the whole time, so my makeup came out lousy and I just didn’t feel right.

The high point to getting dressed is always my nails. I have always used Kiss Press on Nails they come highly recommended and tested by the consumer engineers at Femulate World headquarters in bucolic central Connecticut. They are the best, no doubt.

There has been a dearth of these nails lately, probably in my humble opinion to the fact that more and more men are realizing that it’s much more fun to be a girl than chugging Busch Light and watching wrestling. So in frustration the other day, I opted for a set of IMpress Broadway Nails. Bad move girlfriends!

So there I was in the Mass Pike Park and Ride with a bad makeup job and my coiffure less than perfect. I open the package and the nails spring forth like feathers from a pillow fight. They wouldn’t stay on my fingers and kept falling into the most inaccessible crevasses they could find. Finally I got them to stick somewhat, but never had all ten on for very long. I then had to spend the better part of Saturday morning scouring the car like a CSI forensic technician looking for errant nails that would have been difficult to explain to my wife.

So all was not lost and I was able to finally get my girl on and enjoy the day. My first stop was a Savers location on the way into Boston. I didn’t find anything good here, but had a great time trying on a beautiful wedding gown (sigh).

Getting into Boston early, I parked and went over to Boston Medical Center café and enjoyed a cup of coffee. It always is exhilarating to walk through a busy campus like this and be seen as just another woman. I walked the two blocks over to my appointment and waited in a bright and cheery atrium.

There was an older gentlemen waiting for an appointment with his urologist. Broad shoulders and a weathered faced that foretold a lifetime spent working hard outdoors. A man not easily intimidated, here he was out of his out of his element. Nervously he engaged me in conversation,

“I drove all the way in from the Cape!” He let it hang there waiting for a response.

Knowing I had to reply, I offered “Hmmm, that’s quite a ride.”

That was all he needed and he was off and running,

“My wife and I use to live in Roslindale, raised four kids, all girls. We retired out to the Cape six years ago. I’m in for the flow test, every six months. I still drive in here to see, Dr Koldkuts. He’s one of the best in the country.”

I smiled back, “It’s great that you have such a good doctor. It’s hard to find good Doctors these days. Some of the best in the world are here.”

He had offered up a short bio and by now I’m sure he was curious about me. So he brashly asked, “So what are you here for? You waiting for your husband?”

For a brief moment the little red devil sat on my shoulder and I toyed with this response:

“Hell No! I’m here to see Dr. Koldkuts. Six months ago, I came in here a longshoreman with a kidney infection and he gave some new kind of drug. Now look at me; I’m working in the dress department at Nordstrom’s!”

But I didn’t, ladies, and truth be told I have too much respect for a man like that to rib him in such a manner. I thought about coming out, telling him I was transgender, but decided to play the part of the waiting wife.

“Yes, my husband’s here for the same test you are. How long does this take?”

Our conversation continued for almost 10 minutes. Using my feminine instincts I asked him about his daughters. I listen attentively as he proudly told me about his family and grandchildren.

It was a seemingly ordinary conversation that was to me extraordinary because I had taken my rightful spot in the universe as a woman.

It was good to see Dr. D and we talked about a lot of heavy stuff, but the one thing he made clear was that it just was plain unhealthy to keep Paula locked away and that I needed to make it a priority to get my girl time.

Who am I to argue with the Doctor!

 

 

 

Wearing New York & Company.

 

 

 

Yet another photo of actor Ben Porter in the 2004 film School of Seduction.