Happy Independence Day!

Wearing Madeleine.

Dave's swimsuit.

Laurel Amanda's Favorite Photos (of Laurel Amanda!)

Hello Stana,

Now to my life (mostly boring). I was born and live in New Zealand. I realized I was different by 10 and in my early teens decided to avoid social situations and to concentrate on my academic life. Two degrees later, I walked into a wonderful job at the local university that I held until retirement 39 years later. Outside work my two interests were world travel and astronomy (it is easy to 'pass' in the dark!)

As I reached my early sixties and watched my mother slide into dementia, the thought of dying without becoming my true self was intolerable. So I first lost 25 kg; second, I booked a week with a wonderful couple in Sydney, Australia that specialized In helping people like me realize their style, how to behave in public, shop, etc. They were so successful that by the last day I was able to dress, makeup, etc. and make my own way into Sydney, shop all day and return. That was the day Laurel was truly born!

Back in New Zealand, I told my family (not a success!), the Human Resources person and the Head of Department of my workplace. They were most supportive and said I could transition whenever I liked.

Within a month, every woman working in the department knew of Laurel and I was being invited to their social evenings.

Shortly before I retired, I emailed the whole department (about 100) announcing that Laurel would arrive on Monday to do my work. The response was spectacular; about 80 replies by the morning, some saying they knew something was happening, others expressing surprise, but all were supportive.

When I did retire, it was Laurel's dress-up retirement dinner!

The one thing that surprised me most is Laurel's personality. She is not a female version of the male original. As a long-term friend said, “You smile all the time, M****** never did.” She is a very social, outgoing woman with a financially fatal addiction to bright clothes, shoes, jewelry and handbags.

When I changed my birth certificate, I found that the New Zealand government made it easy. Similarly, all the other bureaucracies (passport, tax status, voting, banks, insurance, retirement fund, etc.) went out of their way to help.

However, I don't wish to pretend that New Zealand is a paradise for trans people. There are dark corners; it is just that I have never found one.

Since then I have followed the standard medical course for transition, RLE, HRT, etc., leading to now a hotel cottage in Bangkok 30 days after SRS, and 6 days after FFS. I hope that others in similar situations will take some encouragement from my story and pursue their dream.

Best Wishes,

Laurel Amanda

P.S. A few words about the last photo: a fun one with my best friend Rochelle. You can create quite a stir when you walk into the restaurant together wearing the same dress!

Got selfies? My open invitation to post your favorite photo along with the story behind it and the reason it is your favorite photo still stands, so don't be shy, send me your fave foto. ― Stana

Wearing Boston Proper.

Kira Sadovaya, male model

Call Me Caitlyn (or Stephanie or Kellie)

By Michelle Bowles

Transgender issues seem to be big at the moment. Apart from Caitlyn Jenner story, just recently I’ve been aware of a number of stories that have made the national news in the UK.

Here is one that I noticed today as I was looking at the BBC website concerning a DJ who broadcasted nationally to millions on a weekly top 40 show and won three prestigious Sony Radio Awards; now to be known as Stephanie Hirst.

The photo accompanying this article, by the way, indicates to me that she knows how to present as a woman. However, the interview with her by Radio 4’s Today programme is enlightening on how “commercial interests” can trump all before them ― I assume she is being legally restricted as to what she can say as this topic is addressed, although she does state that everyone was supportive.

Apparently, a letter from Global Radio, which owns the station she worked on, said “it did not think the topic of gender reassignment was suitable for the shows that he presented” and that “it was in his best interests to come off the radio.” Fortunately, the BBC has a more enlightened attitude to gender matters than some its commercial radio competitors and her new show starts on BBC Manchester on 4 July at 22:00 BST. It could be worth a listen.

There is also the case of boxing promoter Kellie (formerly Frank) Maloney. Maloney guided Lennox Lewis to the World Heavyweight Championship. Remarkably, even in such a macho environment he has received much support with Lewis himself saying, "This world we live in isn't always cut and dried or black and white, and coming from the boxing fraternity, I can only imagine what a difficult decision this must be for Kellie.” A full article on Kellie can be found here.

I bought he latest edition of Vanity Fair and I really enjoyed the “Call Me Caitlyn” article. It was very much in depth, not sensationalised and what a fantastic set of photos to accompany it.

Apart from the bravery of these women, one thing that stands out for me is that each have known for most of their lives that they were born into the wrong body. Maloney says, “I have always known I was a woman. I can't keep living in the shadows, ...living with the burden any longer would have killed me.” The other two women say pretty much the same thing in the coverage of their stories.

I suspect many (or even most) of us have felt the same thing in our lives. It would be wonderful if at an early age I could have confided in somebody to tell them my feelings. I don’t know whether I would have completed the full journey to the other side ― but maybe, even if I did not, I could have been made to feel less ashamed and guilty and found ways to let out my strong feminine side.

Hirst is in her late 30s, Jenner and Maloney in their 60s as they take the journey they have always really known they should make. If we assume his could have been done in their teens or twenties, that is a total of over a 100 years of human life that has not been lived to the fullest.

Wearing Madeleine.

Jerick Hoffer femulating in the "Manhattan Queens" episode of television's Blue Bloods (2014).

Overdresser

I am an overdresser. 

There ― I admitted it. I got it off my chest and now I don't have to worry about people accusing me of being an "overdresser" because I have come out to the world about it.

It is hard to overdress when you attend a trans support group meeting; many of the attendees overdress because the meeting may be their only opportunity to dress at all, so they dress to kill. 

That being said, when I attended trans support group meetings, I was usually the most overdressed girl at the meeting. Hands down. No question about it.

I carried on my overdressing when I began going out in public en femme. The woman in a cocktail dress and high heels shopping at Wal*Mart ― that was me. The woman in the sequin evening gown seated in the centerfield bleachers at Fenway Park ― that was me. The woman in the little black dress and pearls dining at Taco Bell ― you guessed it ― that was me, too.

At first, I worried about it because overdressing drew attention to me and by drawing attention to me, civilians might scrutinize me too closely and figure out that I was packing something extra underneath my periwinkle bridesmaid gown.

I sure did not want to out myself, so I began toning it down. But I soon found out that toned-down dressing was Boring with a capital B!

Blending in with all the other babes at Home Depot was just not my thing. I wanted to be outstanding in my field in heels, not flats. 

So, I began overdressing again and I have never looked back because in the words of blogger Kate Fridkis, "Being overdressed is fun. You have to pull it off with confidence. You have to walk with your shoulders back, like you planned it. Like you're dressed up because you live a dramatic, impressive life. I mean, why not? Maybe you do."

Ms. Fridkis' "The Art of Overdressing" on The Huffington Post inspired this post and I urge you to go read it yourself; maybe it will inspire you to buy a red strapless dress to wear to the grocery store.

Actor Tony Sheldon femulating on stage in Priscilla Queen of the Desert (2012)

Sit to Pee

Ms. Stana,

How do you act when you use the ladies' restroom when you are femulating? What do you do to use the toilet when you are in a dress or skirt?

Ms. Stacey Anne Smith, Ms.Trixie and Ms. Brooke want to know!

―

Hi Ladies,

Your mileage may vary depending on where you live, but here in Connecticut, the courts say to use the restroom that matches your gender presentation. So Stana uses the ladies' room and Stan uses the men's room.

Under such a policy, I feel completely safe using the ladies' rooms in Connecticut. I don't give it a second thought.

However, I do use the ladies' room wherever I find myself ― New York, Ohio, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania ― in locales that do not have Connecticut's diverse restroom policy. There is no way I am going to enter the men's room dressed to the nines in a skirt and heels! So I take a deep breath, gird my loins and use the ladies' room.

The average civilian does not examine every person they encounter to try to determine if they are trans or not. Unless the transperson presents in a way that will alert a civilian that something is amiss (or not a Miss), the transperson will blend into the background of the civilian's daily routine.

The same thing occurs when a civilian uses a restroom. They assume that all the ladies in the ladies' room are cisgender females. In fact, a non-cisgender female in the ladies' room is so foreign to civilians that it takes some doing to make them think otherwise. So, if they see a tall woman in the ladies' room, they are likely to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Some girls recommend getting in and out of the ladies' room as fast as possible, but in my opinion, a woman using the ladies' room in a hurried and perhaps furtive manner may raise a few eyebrows. When I use the ladies' room, I always put my best high-heeled foot forward. I walk into the ladies' room as if I belong, do my business, wash my hands, primp in the mirror and exit when I am done. All the while, I try not to bring attention to myself by acting inappropriately.

However, my appearance in the ladies' room does attract attention in a positive way and occasionally another women will compliment me on my appearance or ask me where I bought my shoes or whatever and I find myself engaging in a conversation with a lady in the ladies' room. How affirming is that?

Actually, I dread using the ladies' room for their intended purpose. Usually, the stalls are too tight for an Amazonian like me and it is difficult to get half undressed in that confined space, which is essentially what you have to do in order to do what you have to do; raise your dress or lower your slacks, lower your pantyhose, lower your panties and if you are wearing a girdle, you have to deal with that, too.

And after you do your business and wipe yourself, you have to get dressed in that confined space. That's why I closely check myself out in the mirror after exiting the stall to make sure everything is where it is supposed to be.

And while you are in the stall, don't put your bag on the floor ― yuck! Hang it on a hook that is usually mounted on inside of the stall door.

And most importantly, remember to sit to pee!

Wearing Oscar de la Renta dress, Dolce & Gabbana
bag, Jimmy Choo pumps and Prada sunglasses.

Actors Adam Scott and Paul Rudd femulating as Bosom Buddies
in television's The Greatest Event in Television History (2014).

Passing My Age

I wrote this piece over 10 years ago for my old blog. It is amazing how little has changed!

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

Personally, I think that my legs are ok, but other people have convinced me that they are more so. My mother often said I had beautiful legs (and that I "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. Other members of my support group (you know who you are) have complimented me on my legs, too.

I am tall, so my legs are long; maybe their length causes an optical illusion making them look better than they really are. I don't know, but I am not going to argue with success. If other people are happy with my legs, then I am happy with them, too.

So, I ask myself, "Since my legs are such a great asset, why not show them off?" I usually respond by wearing skirts and dresses with short hemlines (sometimes scandalously short hemlines) and high heels that are 2, 3, or 4 inches high.

Adding 4-inch heels to my 5-foot, 14-inch stature, I standout in a crowd topping out at an Amazonian 6 and 1/2 feet! When I am out in that crowd, some people may think I am an Amazon; other people may think I am a man in drag.

One rule of thumb for passing is that you should dress your age, i.e., if you are an XX-year-old crossdresser, you should dress like an XX-year-old genetic woman. At my age (XX equals 40-something-plus) that means long skirts and lower heels or worse. By "worse" I am referring to the fact that these days genetic women dress like genetic men! Trousers and slacks, not skirts and dresses, is the norm especially among women my age.

Last month, I dined with four other T-girls at City Steam in downtown Hartford. The place was full of 20 and 30-somethings, men and women alike. Do you know how many people I saw in the restaurant wearing a skirt or a dress? Two: one of the T-girls I was dining with and me! I did not see one genetic woman in a skirt or dress. The temperature was hovering around 0 degrees that evening, so that had something to do with the dearth of hemlines among the distaff side of the crowd. Yet, you would think that there would be a few skirts around the knees of some genetic women, but there were none.

If I wanted to pass that night, I should have worn slacks, not the short black skirt that I did wear. And if I really wanted to pass that night, I should have worn flats instead of high-heeled boots, socks instead of pantyhose, a plaid shirt instead of an animal-print top, boxers instead of a panty girdle, a t-shirt instead of a bra. Also, I should have nixed the make up and left my pocketbook, wig, and jewelry at home. Then, I would have passed easily, but as a man.

In my opinion, passing is overrated. If I have to make a choice between dressing to pass or dressing to thrill, I will choose dressing to thrill every time. Sometimes, I dress to pass, but that is no fun. For starters, when I dress to pass, I usually am not very happy with the clothing I wear. To make matters worse, when I dress to pass, I constantly worry about passing. I cannot enjoy myself out en femme. It is a real drag!

On the other hand, when I dress to thrill, I am very happy with the way I look and I can be myself because I do not worry about passing. What is interesting is that sometimes when I am dressed to thrill, I pass!

Here is my favorite passing-when-I-wasn't-trying story. Years ago, I did office girl drag for Halloween at work. I ran my pantyhose early in the day, so during lunch, I went to CVS to buy another pair. I did not want to cause a commotion, so when I entered the store, I went straight to the first employee I saw and explained my predicament, i.e., I had run my pantyhose and needed another pair for my Halloween costume. The woman I spoke to responded with, "The pantyhose are in the last aisle, ma'am." And so it goes.

So when I go out en femme, I am likely to dress to thrill and show off my legs rather than dress to pass. If I do pass, then that is just an extra thrill.

* 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 the video, leggy girls, who are dressed over-the-top, are shopping in a boutique outfitting for 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 he looks in that dress.

Wearing Tart

Actor Josh Kenney femulates on stage in Fabulous!
The Queen of the New Musical Comedies.

Allison's Favorite Photo (of Allison!)

Hello Stana!

I'm a 33-year-old transwoman and a long time reader of your site. I've very much enjoyed seeing the photos and reading the stories you've shared from your readers and so I thought that I might share my favorite photo of me with you and the world.

The photo was taken in 2000 when I was about 18-years-old or so. I was still very much in the closet, but I had just come out to my sister and she insisted on giving me a makeover and doing a photo shoot. The attached photo was definitely the best of the bunch and remains one of my favorite photos of myself to this day.

Unfortunately I wasn't strong enough or brave enough to come out to the world back then. It wasn't until just a few years ago that I finally fully accepted myself and began my transition. I will be debuting my newest self to the world at my brother's upcoming wedding and will hopefully have some new photos to call my favorites!

Allison

Got selfies? My open invitation to post your favorite photo along with the story behind it and the reason it is your favorite photo still stands, so don't be shy, send me your fave foto. ― Stana

Wearing Halston Heritage

Actor Vince Gatton femulating Candy Darling on stage in Dorothy and Candy in 2006

Now that I am attractive to men there isn't a man I want.

"Now that I am attractive to men there isn't a man I want" is a quote by Candy Darling that appears in her book Candy Darling: Memoirs of an Andy Warhol Superstar.

Candy's words are my thoughts exactly.

I like bring attractive, but I want nothing to do with any man I attract. That may get me into trouble some day, but so far, so good.

Candy Darling was my first transgender idol. She was a peer and she was gorgeous. And she had the guts to go to New York City and be the woman was meant to be. Unlike me who lived to please everybody except myself and did not take the 90-minute train ride to the City to be the woman I was meant to be.

I purchased Candy's book for $1.99 in Kindle format from BookBub a few days ago.

If you like books, then you should check out BookBub. Everyday BookBub sends me an e-mail containing great deals on electronic editions of books in topics of my choosing. Typically, the books cost $.99 to $2.99 and some are free. Note that the deals are only good for one day, for example, Candy's book deal has expired and is now back to its normal price of $9.99.

I have added about 30 books to my library via BookBub. Some of the books are ones I probably would not have obtained at their retail price, but for a buck or two, I could not resist. Usually I am happy with my purchase, but even if I am not, I did not kill a tree in the process.

And so it goes.

Wearing Do & Be

At the prom

Husbands, Wives and Breasts

In this day and age, it seems absurd that husbands still want wives with big breasts, but they do.

With that in mind, my parents started me on a regimen of hormone supplements as I approached puberty. The purpose of the hormones was to help me achieve a state of pulchritude that would make me more attractive to the opposite sex and eventually snag me a husband.

When I began taking the supplements, I had big expectations. My budding breasts seemed to outgrow my training bra overnight and I was soon sporting a new A-cup bra. However, as all my friends moved up the bra cup alphabet, my breasts refused to grow any larger. I was stuck at an A-cup even after the doctor increased the dosage of my hormones.

As I neared my sweet sixteen birthday with nary a date in sight, Mom offered me breast implants as a birthday gift. But I was adamant that no surgeon was going to take a scalpel to my surgically virgin body, so I refused.

Although I lacked bountiful breasts, I had other attractive features including a pair of long shapely to-die-for legs. To show them off, I always wore the shortest skirts and highest heels. On a few occasions, I was sent home from school because my skirts were so short that they revealed other assets.

Nevertheless, I built my wardrobe around mini-skirts and mini-dresses hoping to attract someone who preferred well-turned ankles over well-rounded breasts.

After graduating from high school, I became a receptionist at a high-tech engineering firm where I attracted a design engineer who was an unabashed leg aficionado. We dated for six months, then she asked for my hand in marriage.

We just celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary and she still likes me to show off my legs. (She tells everyone, "He has the best legs in town.")

As her obedient and dutiful wife, I willingly comply and wear skirts or dresses and high heels throughout my day.

Wearing Chloe

Charles Demetri

Misfit

Alli Cummings was different than the others.

Other 12-year-olds were giddy about getting their first training bras, but not Alli, who was completely satisfied wearing a T-shirt.

Other pre-teens were experimenting with makeup and hairdos trying to look as pretty as possible, but not Alli, who had absolutely no interest in such feminine matters.

Instead of becoming a lady, Alli was becoming a misfit and Alli's parents were worried.

Alli's mom did not have time to deal with Alli. She worked all day and expected her better half to take care of any child-rearing issues.

One evening after dinner, Alli's mom demanded, "You have to do something about Alli!"

Alli's dad deferred, "Yes, dear. I know. I'll have a talk with Alli soon."

The next day, when Alli's dad heard Alli come home from school, he called out from the kitchen, "Alli, I want to speak with you."

"OK, Dad," Alli called back.

Alli shuffled to kitchen worried that something was wrong.

In the kitchen. Alli's dad was wearing his gauzy periwinkle apron and had his shoulder-length hair pulled back in a ponytail so as not to get in the way as he prepared dinner. When he saw Alli, his face brightened and he broke out in a big smile. "Hello, Sweetie."

"Hi, Daddy."

Alli was relieved by the big smile; maybe Alli was not in trouble after all.

"Sit down. We need to talk."

Now Alli was not so sure about being in trouble or not, and sat down on a chair at the kitchen table.

Alli's dad wiped his hands with a towel, then walked over to the table with his high heels clicking loudly on the tile floor. As he sat, he smoothed the skirt of his housedress under him, then crossed his legs at the ankles.

"So, Alli, what are your future plans?"

"What do you mean, Daddy."

"Well, what do you want to be when you grow up? A man or a wo-man?"

Alli was upset by the question. No one wanted to be a man and Alli was surprised that his dad would suggest that Alli would choose such a lowly status in life.

"I want to be a wo-man, of course," Alli replied.

"I'm glad to hear that," Alli's dad responded, "But actions speak louder than words and your actions tell me that you want to be a man, not a wo-man."

"Why do you say that, Daddy?"

"All the boys your age are getting into girly things, but you are still acting like a boy. I was talking with Mrs. Reardon the other day and he was bragging to me about how your best friend Timmi was becoming such a young wo-man. His dad said that Timmi has been wearing a training bra and corset for months and wears skirts and dresses now. And he had his first appointment at the beauty salon just last week."

"I know," Alli replied, "Timmi is so girly now just like Ralphi and Franni."

"Don't you want to be girly, too?"

"I do, but I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"Ralphi said that when a girly boy turns 14, he has to have an operation and they cut off his privates."

"No, no. no. There is no operation. When you turn 14, you will go to the doctor and she shows you how to tuck your privates up between your legs. Then she will fit you with a femulator to keep your privates in place."

"But how will I pee if my privates are tucked up between my legs?"

"You'll have to sit on the toilet to pee and when you are done, you will have to wipe yourself dry with bathroom tissue.... just like a real woman. There's nothing to it!"

"So that's all... there's no operation?"

"No operation at all, Sweetie."

"That's great news, Daddy!"

"Any other questions, Alli? I have to get going and finish getting dinner ready before Mother comes home from work."

"Just one question, Daddy."

"What is it, Alli?"

"How soon can I start becoming a wo-man?"

Alli's dad was so happy to hear Alli's question that he wiped a tear from his eye as he answered, "We can start right after dinner. Mother bought you a training bra and a corset months ago in the hope that you were ready to go girly. I'll show you how to put on the bra and I will help you with your corset. Then I'll show you how to use makeup and if we have time, we can paint your nails and put your hair up in curlers. How does that sound?"

"I can't wait to go girly, Daddy."

"I can't wait for you to go girly, too, Alli."

Wearing Ann Taylor

Actors femulating in a 2014 Philadelphia stage production of As You Like It.