Happy Thanksgiving!

Faith tosses the Unisphere and her cares away.

I was blown away this morning reading Faith DaBrooke's post about her first day at work as a woman. It brought tears of joy to my eyes. I was so happy for her.

It is a big step and it is one I dream of taking someday. Congratulations, Faith!

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I never had allergies as a kid, but as I approached middle age, I started having allergy attacks. Nothing horrible; not worth going to a doctor to find out the cause (I think I am allergic to being a man).

The thing about allergies is that when they start, I am not sure if I am getting a head cold or is it just an allergy attack that will go away soon enough.

Tuesday evening, I felt the signs, so I popped an allergy tablet and a zinc cough drop. I felt a little better when I went to bed, but I had a lousy night's sleep and awoke feeling worse, so I guessed that I was getting a cold and not being attacked by an allergy.

Of course, the timing could not be worse for a head cold with a long holiday weekend ahead of me, followed by an outreach session on Tuesday.

Our supply of cold medicines was depleted, so I popped another allergy tablet and a zinc cough drop and drove to work. An hour in and I feel pretty good, so I am crossing my fingers that it is not the start of a head cold.

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Tuesday, I will be out most of the day presenting as my true gender. Doing a little shopping and an outreach session at a Human Sexuality class at Southern Connecticut State University. I am so looking forward to a day out as a woman!

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Happy Thanksgiving!

Wearing Metisu.

Pretty Private Allan Murray femulates Marie of The Dumbells.

Shake

Old Spy Films

Over the weekend, I watched two Michael Caine Harry Palmer spy films for the first time: The Ipcress File and Funeral in Berlin. Both were very good and Funeral had a trans moment that I was not expecting.

The scene lasts about five minutes and takes place in a Berlin drag bar whose employees and customers include femulators. There were about a half dozen femulators in the scene and it immediately brought to mind Eldorado.

New American Pickers Episode

I collect stuff and as a result, I regularly watch American Pickers on History Channel. "The show follows antique and collectible pickers Mike Wolfe and Frank Fritz who travel around the United States to buy or 'pick' various items for resale, for clients, or for their own personal collections," according to Wikipedia.

New episodes air Mondays and in this past Monday's episode ("The Greatest Pick on Earth"), the Mike and Frank picked a huge collection of sideshow artifacts. When the guys showed up at the site of the collection, they meet a woman who is the sister of the deceased magician who collected the artifacts. She revealed that there is a fellow on the premises, who assisted the magician, but he is transgender, so she suggests they call him "Mary."

They meet Mary and she helps the guys pick through the collection. She also discusses how she participated in the sideshow business.

I was very surprised to see a trans person on this show, which tends to be testosterone centric. The guys seemed OK with Mary. No untoward comments were made about her, but I could not help noticing that at the end of the show, Mike hugged the magician's sister, but shook hands with Mary.

Wearing Eloquii.

Edda Edda, a professional femulator (Berlin, circa 1930)

A Challenging Holiday

I love Thanksgiving for all the following reasons:

∞  A guaranteed four-day weekend every year
∞  The food
∞  Big balloons bumping down Broadway
∞  The food
∞  The Rockettes*
∞  The food
∞  Sleeping in late on Black Friday
∞  The leftovers
∞  Did I mention the food?

That being said, I lost 12 pounds since early October and I want to keep it off, so Thanksgiving will be a challenge for me. Wish me luck!

* Going to New York City to see Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in person, I sadly discovered that The Radio City Rockettes are not in the parade! They only appear at the end of the parade in front of Macy’s storefront for the television audience.

Wearing Alexis jumpsuit, Alexandre Birman shoes,
Nathalie Trad bag and Vita Fede earrings.

Romy Haag

Thanks, But...

We celebrate Thanksgiving Day on Thursday.

"Traditionally, it is a time to give thanks for the harvest and express gratitude in general," according to Wikipedia.

No harvest here, so I guess I express “gratitude in general.”

Mother and Father are deceased, but I know that they are around in a spirit-in-the-sky kind of way, so I want to thank them for raising me and not interfering with my feminine ways when I was growing up.

Maybe they could have been a little more encouraging by buying me some dresses to wear around the house (so I wouldn’t have to borrow my sister’s) and buying me some dolls of my very own (so I wouldn’t have to borrow my sister’s). It probably would have made my sister happy, too; I wouldn’t be borrowing her stuff and she would have had a sister to play with.

On the other hand, it could have been a lot worse and they could have forced me to be masculine!

So, thank you Mom and Pop for letting me be me.

Wearing Dress Barn.

Mart Sander femulates on Estonian television's Your Face Sounds Familiar.

Very Suitable

There's a lot of truth to my Dress Bar ad parody. They don't have Transfashion Specialists at Dress Barn, but their sales reps might as well be.

I shop at Dress Barn frequently. The staff at the local store knows me in boy and girl mode and they are very good at making me look my best as a woman no matter which gender I shop in.

One time I was shopping for a new dress  in boy mode and the sales rep suggested a frock that I would have never given a second look. I tried it on and was not thrilled with the way it looked on me in boy mode. (Which is often the case trying on womenswear en homme.)

The sales rep sensed my lack of enthusiasm, but urged me to buy the dress because she "knew" it would look good on me en femme. If not, I could always return it for a full refund.

I trusted her opinion, bought the dress and when I wore it en femme, it looked gorgeous and received lots of compliments.

And so it goes.

Wearing Metrostyle.

Kansas City femulators, circa 1965

Civilian or Gurly Gurl?

Starla sent me another batch of photos (19 in all) clipped from online high school yearbooks featuring young men en femme.

Starla and I often discuss the quality of femulating in the photos and whether the photographed femulator is just a civilian caught up in the moment or a gurl like us whose high school womanless foray was just one stop along a life full of dressing daintily.

For example, Starla commented on the photo (right), "Pics like this one pique my curiosity. This is from a 'Roaring 20's' party. Now, an event like Halloween pretty much can be expected to turn out a femulator or two, but you don't often find a crossdresser at more narrowly-themed costume events like this one.

"Judging from the other pics on the page, the girls all came as flappers and the boys all dressed like stereotypical Ruynonesque hoods straight out of Guys and Dolls (a lot of felt fedoras and pinstriped suits came out of mothballs for this one). But why one 'guy' decided to be a 'doll' for the event is a mystery. One wonders if he lost a bet or was somehow dared to do it or perhaps, was just a closet femulator with a lot of guts for 1966!"

I responded, "My guess he was not a civilian and used it as an excuse to go out en femme in public. I have to give him credit for having a lot of guts, but when opportunity knocks...

"Reminds me of my high school's annual 'Spanish Night.' The guys wore sombrero get-ups and the girls dressed as senioritas. I dressed like Fidel Castro with fake beard, cigar, fatigues, etc., although I would rather have dressed as a seniorita. Anyway, one year, a guy showed up dressed as a seniorita!"

I wonder what became of her?

Anyway, Queen Kenny in the Femulator spot below gets my vote for Most Likely to Still Be Femulating Today Award from this latest batch of photos.

By the way, you may view the new photos in two ways:

Method 1: Open one of the Yearbooks sets (A through Z) and you will find the newest uploads at the end/bottom of the set. (The oldest uploads appear at the beginning/top of the set.)

Method 2: Open this photostream and you will find the newest uploads at the top of page 1. The uploads get older as the page numbers get higher with the oldest uploads on the last page.

The contents of the Yearbook A through Z sets are organized according to school name, for example, the photos from Sacred Heart High School would be in the Yearbooks S set.

Enjoy the view!

Wearing Bebe.

Uvalde (TX) High School's 1963 womanless pageant winner, Queen Kenny

An Autumn Day in London, Part 3

Pizzas, Taxis and the M25

By Michelle Bowles

It was after 3 PM and except from a piece of carrot cake, I had eaten since a very early breakfast. We found a local Pizza Express that was very busy especially for a table for six. However, after a short discussion among the staff, we were shown downstairs. There were spare tables here, but the one we were shown was very close to a family of four already seated and I was a little apprehensive especially as I ended up sitting diagonally opposite and very close to their two young daughters. How long before there were sideways glances and questions to their parents about my gender?

Those glances never came and I felt better.

The conversation flowed and we talked about a whole range of things: pizzas, holidays, work situations, what a great day it had been and even makeup and moisturizers were discussed. And I am pleased to say, trans issues were not mentioned, so once again I felt just “one of the girls” and accepted as such.

Eventually we paid the bill, went to call a taxi and one of the boys asked me if I felt more confident after the makeover. I explained that I did a little bit, but I had felt quite confident beforehand. This was the only time during the day any reference at all was paid to my trans status and even then, this could have been asked of a female, too.

We had trouble getting a taxi for six as we made our way to another upmarket London store, Liberty’s. So I offered to walk and tube it so others could find a taxi more easily. This was a mistake as it took forever to get there and involved much walking and a bit of getting lost.

Eventually we got to Liberty’s to see their Christmas display, whereupon M and myself went downstairs to find the only ladies’ room in this multi-floor store. To add to this shortage of options, when we got there we found only three cubicles, a queue and not the best conditions. We were not impressed especially after the Harrods' toilets, which were palatial with large mirrors, hand cream and even perfume.

When we returned to the Christmas display, I decided to leave the others to try on some clothes on another floor, but after a long look I found very little except a skirt, but at £135 ($169), I was not going to buy it! After trying it on, I thanked the lovely assistant, rejoined the others and after a quick look on other floors, we decided to leave and made our way back to the cars. By the time we started our drive home, it was close to 9 PM.

M and I arrived home around an hour and a half later. I changed back to male mode, but the others hadn’t arrived, so they did not meet my male half.

And that was it!

Soon gone, but I had spent over 14 hours en femme doing pretty ordinary things (apart from a Harrods' makeover). I had been treated as a female all day. The only exception to this was one of the boys referred to me as “he” a few times and even once called me by my male name. Although a little disappointing, I can understand this in a way, as I have male body language, am tall and still have a masculine voice (despite my efforts). M was word perfect in this respect ― “she” or “Michelle” every time.

Only on a couple of occasions, was I given a second glance to my knowledge, but I am about 6’3” in heels, so any similarly tall female might experience this too. I was “Madam’d” at least twice and the staff in the restaurant didn’t even do a double-take nor did those girls sitting about three feet away.
I know there has been a lot written in Femulate recently about being “read” and how it shouldn’t matter. In a way, that’s true, but I aim to present as just another woman and it disappoints me if the evidence suggests that I have not achieved that.

I received compliments on my clothes and makeover, which I can heartily recommend (tell them Michelle sent you) and the other girls made a number of helpful suggestions on products and alternatives. I know I’m too male in returning these compliments; I don’t do it naturally, probably worried that it comes over as flirting, but I must try harder. There were also compliments on how I could walk all day in the boots, which surprised me, too.

I reckon it was my best day en femme rivaling or perhaps beating my Ascot outing over two years ago (see previous Femulate article for details). As I left for home, I thanked M for organizing the day and how kind and patient she (and everybody else) had been. She said she had really enjoyed it, too, and “Just wanted people to be happy.”

My one regret was no time to go into women’s clothes shops, but another day is to be planned soon and this time my spouse is in, too, and we are going to hit those clothes shops!

Part 1 of Michelle's day in London appeared here on Tuesday and Part 2 appeared here yesterday.

Wearing Venus.

Oliver Thornton femulating in an American stage production of The Taming of the Shrew.

An Autumn Day in London, Part 2

Julia Roberts and Princess Di

By Michelle Bowles

Michelle before Harrods and before her makeover

We got to London in two cars, M and me in one, the remaining four in the other. By now, I had been “dressed” and conversing with others for almost two hours and felt very comfortable in the role. So much so, that when I parked and emerged from the car. I didn’t even think about anybody giving me a second glance and sure enough, they didn’t ― they just carried on with their conversations and totally ignored me. (I must be losing my touch, I had hoped some of the men might have given me a second look.)

We had a 5 to 10 minute walk to the tube and this involved walking past a queue of hundreds of people waiting for an exhibition to open. In the past, I would have been daunted by this, but once again, I was not even aware of a second glance as we did so.

Our first stop was Peter Jones in Sloane Square, an upmarket area of London and we went up to the café on the shop’s top floor. Here the assistant said, “Yes, Madam?” as I got to the front of the cake and coffee queue; the first “Madam” of the day is always nice.

I recommend this café if you are in London. If you’re lucky, you can get a good view over the rooftops and the coffee and cake was wonderful. Suddenly though, it was after 12 and we had under an hour to get to Harrods. With one of our number not able to walk quickly and finding climbing the stairs on the tube difficult, this was cutting it close.

However, we arrived outside Harrods just in time. I did delay the group a little more by insisting having my photo taken at the entrance. Now, I know I need to work on my stance for photos, but at least I remembered to smile. I also look a little black and grey (M suggested some good alternative clothing ideas which I have noted), but generally I was happy with what I wore. The only exception to the black and grey was the red bag, which I had seen at an exhibition the last time I was in London and had to buy it; this was its first outing.

In hindsight, I should have worn a red coat I also have, but I’m always worried about standing out, so I took the “dress down” option. My wife paid me a great compliment by later wearing the same outfit except for adding the red coat, my black jumper and her shoes rather than my boots. I got a number of compliments on the boots. M even compared me to Julia Roberts!

We went to the fourth floor where Marcello, my makeup artist, was ready for me. M came along to advise.

Michelle after her makeover

Marcello asked what makeup I was wearing and then asked which celebrity’s look I most liked. I really couldn’t think of anybody, but I did say I liked the way newsreaders present themselves. M suggested Princess Di. What!?

Now I realized why M came with me. First saying that I reminded her of Julia Roberts - admittedly it was mainly the boots – and now saying I could be made up with a Princess Di look. Women are so nice to each other sometimes, I just can’t believe a man would complement another in the same way unless there was a put-down at the end of it.

Marcello was a master and he worked his magic as he removed my make up and applied moisturisers, foundation, blusher, eye shadow, eye liner and mascara. I paid deep attention as he went about his work and he was always discussing what he was doing and what I wanted.

What was a one-hour appointment had taken an hour and a half. Finally, we had to decide on the lipstick. We went out to the main beauty area and discussed the various shades and options and he used the lipsticks on my hand to demonstrate the best color. We went back into the room for the application of the lippy. The effect was quite stunning; the smartphone photo doesn’t do it justice.

While I took in the final effect, Marcello took out a drawing of my face and applied the makeup on the drawing indicating which products he had used where. This too was a work of art.

By now he had spent almost two hours with me. We finally went to the till to buy some of the products. Although the charge for the makeover is deducted from the price of the makeup, the makeup is not cheap. Buying everything would be out of the question, so I resisted the temptation and limited myself to foundation and some concealer.

Other makeup artists came over to discuss what Marcello had done and I felt a bit like a model. We said goodbye to Marcello and as he hugged me, he seemed close to tears and I think M and myself were not too far off doing the same. It was an emotional experience. I e-mailed him later to thank him again and he replied with some really nice and encouraging comments.

We rejoined the others, who had been waiting for far too long, but they all said it didn’t matter when I apologized for the delay and some nice comments were passed on my new look.

Part 1 of Michelle's day in London appeared here yesterday and Part 3 will appear here tomorrow.

Wearing Fashion to Figure.

Her slip is showing (Femulating in the 1970s).

An Autumn Day in London

By Michelle Bowles

Part 1: Here Come the Girls (and Two Boys, Too)

Four or five years ago, I told a work colleague about my feminine side; a decision I did not take lightly. (Do we ever?) After occasionally discussing this further in subsequent conversations, she said we must go on a girls’ day out for makeovers in London. I, of course, agreed that this would be a very good idea. However, the months and eventually years went by and it never quite happened.

My wife knows my friend (I’ll call her M) and we have met up a few times socially. But my wife did not know that M was aware of my feminine side.

A few weeks ago, M came to our house and the three of us went out for lunch. At the end of the afternoon, we dropped M at the train station for her to return home and as we were saying our goodbyes, she said to my wife, “I want to take X (she didn’t use my femme name; she didn't even know it) for a full makeover at Harrods in London. It would be great if you could come, too.”

This was a bit of a surprise as M obviously thought I had told my wife that M knew. My wonderful and understanding wife just took it in her stride, as she does and said if we could arrange it on a Friday (her day off) she could come.

There was not much said later, but my wife mentioned that she’d come if she could, but didn’t mind if I went with M on my own. Again, M and I tried to arrange it, but with summer holidays and other commitments it didn’t happen until a date came up in late October which M, my wife and I could make.

There were still many things to arrange (how to get there, where to change, etc). M also asked if some of her friends could come. I hadn’t met any of them, but was assured they were really nice people and would be very discrete. I had no problems with this but it did mean things had become slightly more complicated.

My wife couldn’t decide whether to come and asked me what I thought. I said it was entirely up to her, but as I was not sure of what to expect, perhaps not this time and if it goes well, we can do another trip to London in the future. She agreed that this was probably the best option.
M made an appointment at Harrods for the makeover and as the day approached, it seemed to be all systems go.

I had realized there was no way I could change at home as my wife and I were not alone in our house, so I asked M if I could change at hers. She said I could and so the previous night, I got all my things together and put them into two bags ready for the morning. What with showering, breakfast, the journey to M’s and then the 60 minutes or so to get ready, if we were going to get to London at a reasonable time, I’d have to set the alarm at 6 AM.

This was early, but I had no problem and duly arrived at M’s at 7, as we had arranged. It was still quite dark, but this just added to the atmosphere. M answered the door and showed me to a room to change with a bathroom just next to it – perfect, especially as the room had loads of mirrors, flat surfaces and good lighting – what more could a girl want?

There was just one final, embarrassing thing. I needed to tell M about my femme name and also had to ask to be referred to as “she” during the day. She responded, “Oh yes, I meant to ask you what it was.” For the rest of the day, I was Michelle to M, and she referred to me as “she.”

I went to the bathroom for my final close shave and wash, but as I attempted to leave the room the handle fell off the lock and I couldn’t get out. Fortunately, after a few shouts and knocks, I was heard and rescued (I was imagining having to climb out of the window and back in!)

Apart from this minor setback, everything went well in the changing department and I could hear others arriving as I was getting ready. I finished in about an hour, which is good for me, but I had to ask M if she could “sort my hair out.” This is always the most difficult thing for me.

She came in, said I looked fantastic and set about trying to improve my hair, making a pretty good job of it. She offered me a nice (and expensive) coat if I wanted to borrow it. I tried it on, but it was at least a size too small. A scarf was also offered, but although it was really nice, I was worried about feeling overdressed, so I declined it.

The next thing was perhaps the most daunting part of the day. None of M’s friends had ever met me before and I was to be introduced to them for the first time as Michelle. They were in her lounge area upstairs and as I climbed the stairs, my heart was in my mouth; but they just greeted me as they would any female. It was a really nice moment. There were two women and a recently wed male couple; we then chatted for a while before we left for the journey.

It was a beautiful October morning and a day in London was ahead.

Wearing Tory Burch.

Kuba Molęda femulates on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.

Bigwig

As I wrote last month (here and here), I was not happy with my last new wig purchase. There were a couple of things wrong with the wig (the style and the color); the bottom line was that the wig made me look old!

So I began looking for something else.

Like most gurls, my head is larger than the average girl’s and I am always looking for something in large cap size wigs, rather than average cap size wigs. There is a big difference. With average cap size wigs, the wig seems to be constantly trying to jump ship and I have to go to the ladies’ room to anchor it back in place. With large cap size wigs, I slip it on my head and it stays in place until I am ready to remove it.

Sadly, most wigs I have owned were small caps. The problem is that the available selection of large size cap wigs is limited. For example, wigs.com has approximately 800 women’s wigs to choose from on their web site, but only 22 are available with large caps.

So I am always on the lookout for new large caps. During my search for something else, I found a new large cap from Noriko, my favorite wig brand. The wig is “Sky” and it has been available in average cap size for awhile, but just recently became available in large cap size, too.

Check it out if you need a large cap size. I will be wearing Sky soon.

Wearing Club Monaco.

D.J. "Shangela" Pierce

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