My Favorite Things Come in Pairs

The first item of women's clothing I ever wore were a pair of my mother's nylon stockings. I recall looking in the floor-length mirror mounted on the inside of her closet door and admiring my pre-puberty hairless legs believing that they looked just like women's legs!

With my mother's closet door wide open, I noticed the stack of shoe boxes on the closet floor and I suddenly felt motivated to try on a pair of her high heel pumps. I opened a random box and found a pair in a floral fabric with a 3-inch heel. I slipped on the heels and they fit perfectly.

I looked in the mirror and the combination of nylons and high heels was exhilarating! Not only did my legs look like women's legs, but now they looked shapely and sexy, too!

I have been a big fan of high heels ever since. When en femme, I seldom wear anything else on my feet. Unless the occasion absolutely screams for flats, I wear heels.

Once upon a time, I thought that at 6-feet-2, wearing heels would make it more difficult to pass. But I came to the realization that if I can pass at 6-foot-2 wearing flats, then I can pass at 6-foot-6 wearing 4-inch heels.

I love wearing heels. They make my legs look more shapely and more importantly, I feel more feminine, more lady-like wearing heels. I know it’s my late-1950s/early-1960s socialization that makes me feel this way, but that's me and I'm not changing shoe styles at this late date.

Genetic females often compliment me about my proficiency in walking in heels and ask if it was difficult learning how. Truth is that I took to heels like Daisy Duck took to heels.

As a child, my mother often mentioned that I walked on my tiptoes. I assumed that walking on my tiptoes was not the way a male was supposed to walk, but nobody ever taught me the "correct" way to walk. So I took the path of least resistance and continued to walk on my tiptoes.

I believe that my penchant for walking on my tiptoes made walking in high heels a natural thing to do. True or not, from day one, I never had a problem walking in heels.

Heels hurt. I have high heels that begin hurting as soon as I slip them on and I have heels that I can wear all day with little or no pain. I discovered that the height of the heel is not critical as far as pain is concerned. Some of my most comfortable shoes have 4-inch stiletto heels. Go figure!

Wearing heels makes my femulation complete. Despite the pain, I will never give up wearing heels; you will have to remove my high heels from my cold, dead feet.

Wearing Miguelina Camelia top and skirt and Rag & Bone hat.

Roger Sloman femulates in British television's Eastenders.
(Thank you, Meg, for suggesting this femulator!)

Man Wearing High Heels and Skirt

This young man seems so happy wearing high heels even on a rainy, windswept day that I had to share his joy with you. His photo appeared on the now defunct High Heels For Men blog.

Wearing Madeleine.

Marek Kaliszuk femulates singer Hanka Ordonówna
on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.

Compliments

By Susan King, guest poster and renowned blogger

I have been reading about women who, as part of their daily life, feel harassed by men while in public (called "street harassment").

It happens to us as transwomen and we do not understand that part of our daily harassment is something women feel almost everyday since probably their early teens. As a male teen in the 1960's and 1970's, it was considered part of showing off your manhood by verbally "harassing" women.

Of course, we did not look at it that way. But I remember being with friends in public and saying suggestive things to women in public. Or yelling out of a car window while passing women.

Now that the heels are on the other foot, I understand the unwanted attention and why some women dress down when out in public.

I now want to be part of the solution.

So now when I see a woman who has taken the time (I know about that) to look nice. I will give them a "womanly" compliment. I am not trying to "hit on them," but I want to say something that will hopefully make their day. I will say something positive about their hair color or style, clothes, shoes, nails or overall appearance. It's usually quick and no response is required. However, most women smile and say thank you.

I hope my compliment will offset some jerk who may harass them during the day.

Thanks to the success of the LGBT movement, 99.99% of people say nothing to you during the day when in girl mode. But that one person who gives you that look or says something negative can mess up your whole day or at least throw your confidence off.

Then it occurred to me that when I see a transgender person, I should go out of my way to give her a compliment whether I read them or not. I may be wrong that they are trans, so I compliment them just like any other women.

I was at a restaurant in guy mode and my waiter was a thin young man, who was broadcasting female signals through his mannerism and overall style. I first complimented him on his eyes. Later, I told him I was a transwoman crossdressing as a guy :-}. (I was on my way to my electrologist.) That was the first time I just came out and told someone in a matter-of-fact way.

He asked if we could talk for a few minutes. We did and I gave him my history and what it was like in the 60's, 70's and 80's for transgender people. As we talked, I realized that it is important that we need to come out (even in guy mode) so that we can help each other, especially the younger ones.

I did not preach, but I told him the importance of higher education and how it helped me. I told him about my cousin, who was my age, quit high school and later prostituted, only to die of AIDS in 1984.

I really felt good after our talk. We exchanged phone numbers and I told him he can call me anytime even though I doubt he will. I hope I had a positive impact on his life.

So now I compliment women all the time, especially seeking out transgender women. It helps me feel closer to womanhood and hopefully make someones day.

Wearing Nic and Zoe.

Robert Rozmus femulates singer Dani Klein on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.

Doing the right thing (pun intended)

Wearing Madeleine.

Luis Montalbert (center) femulates Kylie Minogue on Costa Rican television's Tu Cara Me Suena.

Things to Come

Femulating in public is more common today than it was yesterday and I predict that femulating in public will become even more common tomorrow. There are two or three reasons for increased public emulating.

One Reason

Every day, older femulators are discovering that the world does not end when they step outside en femme. It turns out that it was a lot easier than they thought and as a result, they all regret not taking that first step earlier (I know I did).

My countless outings en femme, as well as outings by girls like Paula, Kimberly, Janie, Meg, et al, who don't think twice about being pretty in public, have, by example, encouraged indoor femulators to try femulating outdoors. 

The more we femulate in public, the more others will try it.

Another Reason

Younger femulators do not need much encouragement. They grew up in a world where the fluidity in gender and sexuality among their peers is accepted rather than excepted (like when old ladies like me were growing up). As a result, they already know that the world will not end when they step outside en femme. The only thing holding them back is deciding which skirt to wear today.

Still Another Reason

Males, who are not femulators, are femulating in public unintentionally by adopting items in their wardrobe that were formerly considered feminine. Today, fashionable males may be seen in public wearing items that were considered strictly "girly" a generation ago.

This growing number of unintentional femulators just further encourages intentional femulators to do their thing.

In Conclusion

In the not-too-distant past, I seldom encountered another femulator in public, but nowadays, I often encounter other femulators when I am out. And I expect that in the near future, we will be everywhere!

(Caveat Emptor: This is a reboot of an 2-year-old post.)

Wearing Timo Weiland jacket.

Audrius Janonis (center) femulating on Lithuanian television's Muzikinė Kaukė (2015).

How Long is Short?

By Susan King, guest poster and renowned blogger

I am always learning about the constant changes in fashion. It's one of the reasons I love being a woman.

I found this chart that explained the lengths of skirts and their labels.

The industry "norm" is a size 10 with a height of 5'5" to 5'6". I am a size 10, but I am 5 inches taller than the norm. So I add 5 inches to the average length of the 10 skirt lengths listed below.

Learning these terms and applying them to me, helps my understanding of woman's fashion.

Wearing Bebe.

Wally Brown and Alan Carney sport below-the-knee hemlines in the 1945 film Genius at Work.

Passable vs. Presentable

I like to think that I pass. Just today, I received an e-mail from a dear friend who wrote, "You pass so well."

But who am I kidding?

I am six feet, two inches tall (or a more dainty five feet, 14 inches tall) and I always wear heels of some height when I am out en femme. There are not too many women out there who are six-feet-two. So, when I am out en femme, my height is my biggest giveaway.

I can hear some of you saying to yourself, "Well, Girl, don't wear heels, then you will be shorter."

My response to that is even without heels, my height is still my biggest giveaway and adding three or four inches will not make much difference.

Last Friday at the mall, I passed some of the time.

While I was walking through the mall, I passed a few women walking in the opposite direction, who looked me in the eye and smiled. Of course, I returned the smile. When a woman smiles at another woman, it is a sign of camaraderie, so when a woman smiles at you when you are out en femme, it is a good sign that they have accepted you into the club.

On the other hand, I have also passed women in the mall, whose smiles indicate that they have read me as a male. Their smiles (or smirks) indicate that they are mildly amused by my attempt to pass. Go out en femme for awhile and you will begin to recognize the difference between smirks and genuine smiles.

At the mall last Friday, there were times when I did not pass.

For example, the saleswoman at Sephora referred to me as "he," then quickly corrected herself and referred to me as "she." I was not offended. When you are up close in another person's face, as when you are dealing with a salesperson, it is more difficult to pass because they are concentrating on you and therefore, are more likely to pick up telltale signs that you are male.

I have gone out en femme enough to resign myself to the fact that sometimes I pass and sometimes I do not pass. There is not much I can do about my ability to pass because I believe I have pushed the envelope about as far as I can to emulate a woman without undergoing surgery.

Admittedly, my ultimate goal is to be passable, but since that is not always possible, I always try to make myself look presentable. If I present as the best woman I can be, then I will be less likely to attract attention and will blend in with the real women out there.

On the other hand, if I go to the mall wearing my highest heels, shortest skirt, largest breasts, biggest hair, and thickest makeup, I am going to attract a lot of attention. Dressed so, more people will check me out and thus increase the chances that people will figure me out.

So, I try to present myself as a real woman would present herself in a similar situation. Last Friday, I even wore dress slacks instead of a skirt in order to be more presentable and I believe that helped.

While I was at Sephora perched on the makeover seat at the front of the store, I did attract the attention of a lot of passerbys, but none of them gave any indication that they recognized me as a male. All they saw was a woman getting a makeover, so they gave me an interested passing glance and went on their way.

It probably helped that I was seated, so that my height was hidden, but I think more important was the fact that I looked presentable in that situation. I really looked like a woman who had been shopping in the mall and stopped at Sephora for a makeover.

One more thing: if you are presentable, other people are more likely to respect you and treat you like a lady even if they know you are not really a lady. If I dress like a teen queen, I am not going to get much respect, but if I dress like a middle-aged woman (with impeccable taste, by the way), I have found that I get respect because I am trying to be a female clone, not a clown.

So, the bottom line is that, of course, you want to be passable, but before you can be passable, you must be presentable. And once you hone your presentation, you may or may not pass, but at least you know you did your best come what may.

(Thank you, Michelia, for suggesting this topic.)

(Caveat Emptor: This is a reboot of an 8-year-old post.)

Samantha Mohr in blue.

Artur Chamski femulates Irena Santor on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo (2015).

Naturally Effeminate or Naturally a Woman

Recently, I proffered, "Ask me anything" and Pat asked, "Were you naturally effeminate as a kid and ever called a sissy while going to school?"

Yes ― I was naturally effeminate as a kid. I know it was "natural" because at the time, I was not aware that I was effeminate.

I was not intentionally acting effeminate, I was acting as me, myself, and I, and as luck would have it, me, myself and I was very effeminate. So much so that my peers let me know it by calling me names like "sissy," "twinky," "fairy," and worse.

At my first summer job, which was in a very macho environment, my nickname was "Zelda" in honor of my feminine ways.

At another summer job working in the receiving department of a department store where I unpacked and sorted women's clothing all day long, one of my co-workers suggested that it must be my dream job because I got first shot at all the new dresses and lingerie before it went on the floor for sale to the public. He even showed me a private backroom where I could try on the clothing that I might like to purchase.

At my high school graduation, some of the jocks asked aloud why I wasn't wearing a gold-colored graduation cap and gown like the other girls.

In college, the guy in the dorm room next door said I could borrow his girlfriend's bra that she left behind after one of their evening rendezvous.

Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

I never changed my feminine ways even when I figured out what was going on. I knew how to fix the problem, but I rejected manning up and becoming macho because doing so was so incompatible with my nature.

On the other hand, dressing in woman's clothing was a perfect fit. I already acted, moved, and spoke like a woman, so the clothing just completed the picture.

(Caveat Emptor: This is a redo of a 3-year-old post.)

Wearing Self Portrait.

 Italian actress, writer, politician and television host, Vladimir Luxuria

My Worst Nightmare

I was out all day Monday. (That’s me in the photo before going out.)

In the morning, I did outreach at a Human Sexuality class at Southern Connecticut State University.

After the class, the professor took us out to dine at a local New Haven eatery.

And after dining, I planned to return home. Before starting the car, I called home and discovered that my presence was not required at home as early as I had previously thought, so I had more time to spend out en femme.

I pass a DressBarn on the way home, so I decided to stop and shop.

After shopping at DressBarn, I returned to my car and it won't start! The dashboard lights up, the radio plays, but when I turn the key, all I get is a loud ticking noise.

I have AAA, but I am a little concerned about dealing with AAA en femme.

As I am sitting in my car contemplating my next move and occasionally turning the ignition key to no avail, a small red pickup truck parks next to me just as I am cranking the ignition for the umpteenth time.

Two young fellows get out of the truck. They do not ask me if I needed help. Instead the driver walks to the front of my car and signals to me to pop the hood.

I gladly do so and the two of them poke around the engine compartment, but do not find anything amiss.

I have a set of jumper cables, so we tried jump starting the car, but that does not work.

Since my car has a manual transmission, they suggested rolling the car and popping the clutch to start it. (I had not done that in years and had completely forgotten that trick.)

So they gave my car a little push. The car started rolling across the parking lot and I am trying to pop the clutch, but I am not getting the job done.

Just as I am about to run out of parking lot, I remember that I have to pop it into second gear, not first gear, and as soon as I did, the car started.

I waved my hand out the window to my two "good Samaritans" and headed straight home with my fingers crossed that nothing else would go wrong with my car.

I made it home without issue. This morning, I popped the clutch again to start the car and drove it to my dealer to get it fixed (my car needed a new battery).

I always worried about having car problems when en femme. I thought it could be the worst thing that could happen. Now I am not so sure.

Maybe it is better to be a woman than a man when car problems strike. Would those two fellows be so quick to come to the rescue of a tall middle-aged guy as they were to come to the rescue of a leggy middle-aged blond?

I don't know and I am not anxious to find out again.

(Notary Sojac: This is a redo of a 4-year-old post.)

Wearing Madeleine.

Professional femulator James Ross and son

But our dress code is very liberal

Alice Adair, circa 1930

Grandfather, father and grandson ― all dressed up!