Someday Funnies

Love this outfit! Wearing Sergio Rossi high heels (Source: Vogue)

Alan Manson and friends femulate in the 1943 film This Is the Army.

Shoe Shopping

My latest Amazon purchase: Nine West "Epiphany" slingback pumps for $39.99

I love my shoes.

Shoes are the last item I don when I get dressed. And when I slip on my high heel pumps, it's as if my fairy godmother waves her magic wand and I suddenly feel absolutely marvelous.

I own a lot of shoes. My favorite brands are Payless and Nine West. Both have shoes in my size (12). Although Payless shoes are less expensive than Nine West shoes, Nine West's are better quality and usually real leather.

Payless will be history soon, so that leaves me with Nine West.

The local Nine West brick and mortar store never has size 12s, so I order online. Nine West prices being what they are, I only order when they have a sale. Even then their prices are typically higher than Payless normal prices, but what's a poor girl to do?

"Go to Amazon," is what a poor girl should do.

I recently discovered that Amazon has lots of Nine West shoes for sale at very attractive prices. Unless I missed something (which is possible because I often miss something), this is a recent development because when I looked for Nine West shoes on the "Big A" in the recent past, there was only a small selection.

The only catch is that the Nine West shoes on Amazon do not necessarily match what is currently available on the Nine West website. The Amazon selection is older than what you will find on Nine West online or in their brick and mortar stores, but that is OK by me. The savings, quality and real leather make up for it.

Wearing Nine West (Source: Nine West)

Brian Deacon femulates in the 1973 British film The Triple Echo.

Dreamland

Most mornings, I awake with no memory of my latest trip to Dreamland. On the other hand, approximately one in ten mornings, I do recall my latest trip and I estimate that in half my trips, I am male me and in the other half, I am female me.

My female me trips can be divided in two: either I dream that I am a woman or I dream I am femulating.

Last night, I dreamed I was femulating and it was extraordinary on two counts.

Usually my dreams include family and friends, both alive and deceased, but last night, my dream was populated by strangers.

Secondly, last night I dreamed I was getting ready to be a bridesmaid in someone's wedding. I never dreamed about being in a wedding party before, so it was nice to experience a dream with a different plot.

Two distinct memories from my bridesmaid dream: I was frantic about my wig – no matter what I did, I could not style it satisfactorily. Also I recall being upset because it  took so long to prepare for the wedding that whiskers began popping through my makeup! With that, the dream ended.

And so it goes!

Wearing Ganni (Source: Intermix)

Alan Cumming (in blue evening gown) femulates in the British television series The Runaway.

Battery Day

Lately, the batteries in my iPhone and MacBook Pro have been discharging rapidly. The iPhone is over five years old and the MacBook is over six years old, so I figured it was time to replace their original batteries.

Amazon sells replacement battery kits for $15 and $50 respectively. Both kits include all the tools required for the task.

I viewed how-to videos on YouTube. The only difficult part of the tasks seemed to be removing the old batteries, which were attached to the iPhone and MacBook cases with a two-sided tape-like adhesive. In the past, I've handled worse do-it-yourself computer tasks successfully, so I ordered the batteries from Amazon.

Saturday was Battery Day.

The iPhone battery replacement was not too bad. Working with the tiny screws with my 68-year-old eyes was the most difficult part of the task.

Removing the two-sided tape was a little tricky. You are supposed to grab the tape at one end of the battery and pull it out from under the battery, but the tape kept ripping in my fingers tips. I finally used a needle nose plier to get a good grip on the tape and pulled it out.

The job took about 30 minutes from start to finish and was a success. The iPhone is now like new with regard to its battery discharge rate.

The MacBook Pro battery replacement was easier than I expected because the glue holding the battery to the computer case had dried out over the past six years and it did not take much prying with a small chisel to free the battery. It took about 45 minutes to do the job and like the iPhone, the MacBook Pro's battery discharge rate is like new now.

I would have completed the MacBook battery replacement more quickly except that I had a big surprise when I opened the case: dust all over the interior of the computer including large dustballs, as you can see in the photo above. It took an extra 10 to 15 minutes to remove all the dust before I screwed the cover back on to the MacBook case.

I was very pleased with the results. Besides saving money, I also saved time by avoiding a visit to the Apple store.

Being read in a good way! (Source: Cellfina)

The Bigwood Twins, early 20th Century professional femulators

Tower Envy

In my previous post, Ann Onymous left the following comment:

Here's my two part question, Stana. 

1. Do you think that had you from the get-go in life been allowed to live as a girl/woman you would have developed an interest in HAM radio? 

2. Had you been born with an XY [sic] chromosome body do you think you'd have developed that interest? 

I'm not trying to be provocative, I've always been curious about traditionally male/female activities and how those intersect with gender identity.

My interest in radio was sparked by two things.

👧   My childhood home was located in the shadow of the towers of AM radio station WATR. The towers were an imposing presence in my early life; so much so that I wanted my own radio tower.

👧   My parents gifted me a Remco AM radio kit for Christmas when I was about 10-years-old. Living so close to WATR, its signal swamped my Remco radio and it was the only station I could hear. However, I discovered that WATR went off the air early Sunday mornings for maintenance and I could hear other stations on my Remco. Thus began my interest in receiving distant radio stations (DX).

If I lived as a girl or had been born a girl, I guess that instead of a radio kit, my parents would have given me a makeup kit, as well as dolls, toy kitchen appliances, etc., that is, gifts like my sister received. (For what it's worth, I played with my sister's "girls'" toys almost as often as I played with my own toys.)

My sister, my only sibling who was 18 months my junior, was not fascinated by the imposing radio towers located on the next block. If I lived as a girl or had been born a girl, would I be disinterested in those towers, too?

Was my interest in those towers a "guy thing"?

Or since I was so naturally feminine, was it penis envy?

(Some food for thought, but I don't think I answered Ann's questions!)

Wearing Leal Daccarett (Source: Moda Operandi)

Members of the Oslo gay mens chorus (Oslo fagottkor) femulating for a Mad Men parody.

Dumb Blond

Staffing the booth at Hamvention the past eight years, I got a taste of the prejudices that professional woman face every day.

Approximately 15% of the US ham population are female and the attendees at Hamvention reflected that statistic. By far, the males outnumber females.

The people staffing the booths at Hamvention also reflected that statistic. Some booths have no females, some booths have one or two females and a few booths have professional "booth babes" hired to attract customers.

Some visitors to our booth must have read me as the equivalent of a booth babe. On a few occasions, fellows approached me at the booth and asked, "Do you know anything?" or "Can I talk to someone who knows something?" or something similarly insulting.

Damn! I probably know more about ham radio than they do. I've been a ham for nearly 50 years. I have written six books and thousands of articles about ham radio. I even won a special achievement award for my contributions to the hobby.

Usually, I am so taken aback by the question/insult that I do not have a quick comeback. Instead, I do my duty and try to help them out.

Wearing Boston Proper (Source: Boston Proper)

Moe Howard, Larry Fine and Shemp Howard (The Three Stooges) femulate in the 1950 film Self Made Maids.

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 among civilians en femme. The woman in a cocktail dress and high heels shopping at Walmart ― 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 AutoZone.

Wearing Rachel Zoe (Source: Rachel Zoe)

Trevor Moore femulating on television's The Whitest Kids U' Know.

Womanhattan

In June 2009, I visited New York City to attend a workshop related to my profession. During my five-day stay in Manhattan, I was en femme the whole time.  The following is a diary of that adventure in femulation.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone. – Audrey Hepburn*

Needless to say, most of my thoughts these days are on my upcoming trip to New York City.

If you are new to this blog, I'll fill you in: I will be in Manhattan over the weekend attending a four-day workshop related to my profession. I plan to arrive in The City on Thursday, check-in to my Midtown hotel, then dress en femme and remain en femme until I check-out on Monday.

It is not the first time that I have been en femme for an extended period of time. In the past, I have attended trans conventions, where I was en femme 24/7 for four or five days and last fall, I attended Fantasia Fair, where I was en femme for a week.

I enjoyed those experiences en femme, but in reality, trans conventions and Fantasia Fair are extensions of our closets, i.e., they are safe havens for transgenders.

Most of the action at trans conventions takes place in hotels where the staff is well aware of their guests' status. Since it is their job to take care of their guests, convention attendees feel very safe and comfortable at such events.

The situation is the same at Fantasia Fair only on a larger scale. Like the staff at the convention hotels, the whole of Provincetown, which hosts the Fair, takes care of its visitors, so fairgoers feel very safe and comfortable having the run of the town for a week in late October.

My trip to New York City is different. I will be en femme 24/7 without a safety net.

Besides attending the workshop, I plan to experience The City en femme. The workshop ends early each afternoon, so the rest of the day, I am free to visit museums, go shopping, see shows, go to the Top of the Rock, dine, dance, go to Mass at Saint Pat's, etc. and that's what I intend to do... all en femme or rather, as myself.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

arrived safe and sound

I have arrived safe and sound. Checked into my hotel room and will get en femme real soon now.

good evening

This will be short because it is 12:25 AM and I am tired.

I dressed en femme.

Erica, from My Husband Betty message board met me at my hotel and we walked down 7th Avenue looking for a place to dine. We ate at an Italian restaurant called Restivo. The food was excellent and we were treated like ladies.

After dinner, we took a cab to Nowhere, a GLBT-friendly bar, had a few drinks and met some other girls I know from My Husband Betty message board and elsewhere on the Internet (Caprice, Abby, Devon, Rita, Skyler). I tired and took a cab back to my hotel around midnight.

I had a wonderful time, but I am too tired to write much more.

Tomorrow is another day!

The accompanying photo is Erica and I at Nowhere.

Friday, June 12, 2009

I did not sleep well last night.

I attended my workshop in the morning.

I did not hear a discouraging word. A number of people, both male and female, took the initiative to engage me in conversation.

It was hot and humid, not my kind of weather when wearing a wig and foundation garments, but after the workshop, I went out on the town.

I walked four blocks up to Sephora and bought some makeup, then I crossed the street to visit Macy's. The store is huge. It just goes on and on and on.

I found a beautiful dress and I tried it on. It fit fine, but it was very low cut and I just don't have the body for it. So, I did not buy it.

I was very, very tired and returned to my hotel. I just wanted to rest and I did not look forward to going out to dine.

Like magic, someone slipped some menus for takeout under my door, and I took advantage of their offerings and had Japanese take-out delivered to my room. For dessert, I hit the vending machine and had a strawberry Pop-Tart.

It was not a glamorous evening in the Big Apple, but being a girl is not glamorous most of the time, and so it goes.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

This morning, I went to my workshop carrying my purse and a large shopping bag containing the workshop materials. I get on the hotel elevator and a 40-something couple are already aboard.

As I got on, I smiled, and turned around to watch the floor numbers flash by.

Suddenly, the guy in the couple says, "Wow, she already has done a lot of shopping without leaving the hotel!"

At first I did not get what he meant, but then I realized the "she" he was referring to was me and he was making a reference to my full shopping bag.

I blushed and the woman said, "Good for you."

I said, "Thank you."

That was an auspicious start to my day.

The workshop went well and I learned a lot. Also, during today's session, I took a big step; we each had to do a brief autobiography and when it was my turn, I came out that I was transgender. I did not hear a discouraging word; on the contrary, most people were very supportive and I was glad I did what I did.

The weather continued to be poor with rain off and on all day.

During the workshop, I made plans with a woman who was staying in the same hotel as mine to do something together with her and her daughter, who was traveling with her, but not attending the workshop. (I did not want to be solo again.) Since the weather was not conducive for seeing the Big Apple on foot, we decided to take a cab and see the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

We arrived at the museum around 3:30 PM and viewed the exhibits for over four hours. (That's me in the photo next to Andy Warhol's take on Jacqueline Kennedy.) The museum is huge and we probably saw only 1/10th of its vast spectacular collection. It was a great experience.

We decided to dine at the museum's restaurant and the food was as good as the art. And I highly recommend the Mango Frida cocktail!

The museum closed at 9 PM, but we did not finish dining until 9:15, so we had the place to ourselves as we walked from the restaurant to the exit.

We took a cab back down 5th Avenue and were back at our hotel at 9:30 PM.

A lot of people saw me en femme today, probably thousands of people. And everybody who I personally encountered, treated me like a lady. I did notice more than a few people (mostly guys) giving me a second look, but they probably were just taken aback my Amazonian appearance!

My confidence en femme has surprised myself. I hailed cabs en femme (and usually caught the first one to pass by) and I spoke to people throughout the day and did not think twice about it. For example, when we were in the museum, I asked various museum personnel various questions. In the past, I would have asked one of the two women I was sightseeing with to do my bidding.

It was a great day and tomorrow promises to be even better!

show 'n' tell

I mentioned that today, I came out as transgender to the other people attending my workshop. I want to flesh out that story a bit.

I planned to attend en femme and if anyone asked, I would tell them what was going on, but I had no intention of coming out to the whole workshop.

Part of the workshop was show and tell; we had to bring something to the workshop, preferably from our youth, and explain how that object impacted our lives.

My show 'n' tell was the #60 issue of Mad magazine. Here is my story:

The public school system I attended let the students out early every Thursday to attend religious instruction classes at a local house of worship. On the way home from religious instructions, I had my weekly quarter allowance to spend at a Mom and Pop store. With my quarter, I could buy two comic books and a pack of baseball cards or the new issue of Mad magazine

So, one fall day in 1960, about a month before the November Presidential election of John Kennedy, I find two new issues of Mad for sale; one issue congratulates Nixon as the election winner and the other issue congrats JFK. Only having a quarter, I can only buy one, and being a good Roman Catholic, I buy the JFK issue.

After paying for the magazine and getting Mad in my hands, I realize that the Nixon and JFK issues are the same issue; the same magazine had two covers! The front cover had Nixon and the back cover had JFK, however, the back cover was printed upside down so that it opened with the binding on the left as if it was a front cover!

Upon further investigation, I discovered that not only was the back cover printed upside down, but half the magazine was printed upside down following the upside down cover

This blew my mind. It was thinking outside the box and it was so far out there that opened my mind to thinking outside the box, too... yadda, yadda, yadda...

Originally, that is how I intended to end my show 'n' tell, but the night before my presentation, it suddenly hit me that that two-in-one Mad issue also defined my life as transgender... half and half... man and woman... ying and yang! It was an epiphany of sorts to me and I had to share it, so that is how I actually ended my show 'n' tell.

It was no big deal. I am sure that two days into the workshop, all the attendees had me figured out. I was not fooling anyone, so my revelation would not be a surprise. And it fit so well into my show and tell that I just had to do it.

Seeing everyone's reaction to my show 'n' tell, I think just about everyone appreciated my story and its honesty. Like one of the attendees, a male 60-something retired teacher, who went out of his way to tell me the next day that he loved my metaphor!

Sunday, June 14, 2009

good morning

I am sitting in my hotel room early Sunday morning sipping my first cup of coffee with random thoughts flowing through my head.

***

It is so cool to sit here and look out the window and see the top of the Empire State Building looming over the roofs of the buildings across the street. The Building is quite imposing since it is only three blocks away, but the first day I was here, I did not know it was there because the low clouds obscured it. Friday, I saw it for the first time in all its glory.

When I awoke this morning the clouds cut off the television and FM radio transmitter antennas at the top of the tower, so all you saw was its Zeppelin mooring mast, as it appeared in King Kong. Like I said, "so cool."

***

I did some outreach last night over dinner. As I wrote last night, I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art with a woman from my workshop and her traveling companion daughter. While we dined, we talked about our lives and during a lull in the conversation, I asked her if she wanted to know about my transness.

She admitted that she was dying to ask, but did not ask because she respected my privacy. I told her I love to talk about it and I proceeded to do so.

She got "it" as was evidenced by her questions. She also thought that my coming out in the workshop was a very big deal and she gave me a lot of credit for doing so.

***

Most of the people in the workshop are very cool. After I came out, my workshop mates seemed friendlier to me.

One young woman, who was very friendly to me even before I came out, also went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art yesterday and we ran into her a few times. During one run-in, she insisted that I meet her husband, who was looking at some artwork nearby. So, she fetched him and introduced us and we had a short and pleasant conversation.

It made me feel so good that she would do that! That she thought well enough of me to want to introduce me to her spouse made me feel that she considered me a normal person and not a freak.

***

Erica, the transwoman I went out with on Thursday night mentioned me on the My Husband Betty message board and I quote, "...in addition to being muy bonita was terrific fun to hang out with."

I thank her for the kind words.

***

The sky is brightening and now I can see all the way to the top of the Empire State Building, so I am looking forward to another wonderful day in womanhattan.

"dyke"

Sunday in New York and I dressed up for the day: my purple dress, jewelry, mid-heel Mary-Jane pumps, suntan pantyhose, etc.

My workshop ended about 2 PM and I returned to my hotel room to freshen up. After touching up my makeup, I went outdoors (the weather was perfect) and hailed a cab.

A cab stopped, I got in and told the driver to take me to Rockefeller Center.

The driver told me he could not take me there because the Puerto Rican Pride Parade on 5th Avenue blocked the path to the Rock. So, I got out of the cab and decided what to do.

I had fallen in love with a perfume sample of Aquolina Pink Sugar that I received at Sephora, so I decided to walk the six blocks to their West 34th Street store to buy the perfume.

It was my first time out wearing the mid-heel Mary Janes I bought a few weeks ago. When I paid for the shoes, the cashier commented that the shoe was popular with dancers because they are very comfortable and I was discovering the same thing as I walked from my hotel to Sephora.

In Sephora, I walked around the store looking for the perfume. During my hunt, I passed an older gentleman and as I walked by him, he turned to me and said, "I want to give you a kiss" and then he blew me a kiss!

Flabbergasted, all I could do was whisper, "Thank-you."

I found the perfume, paid for it, and exited with my heels never touching the ground!

Since my new shoes were cooperating, I decided to walk a half-block to Herald Square and take a few photos. After taking a few shots, I saw an empty chair and sat down to take a break. While I sat, I took a few photos of myself. They turned out OK, but I could only stretch my arm so far and I wanted something better.

Seated next to me was a older gentleman with a camera case in his lap. I tapped him on the shoulder and with a big smile, I asked him to take my photo. He smiled, I handed him my camera, and he took a photo of me.

After resting for five minutes, I decided to walk eight blocks up Broadway to Times Square. I took photos along the way and with no complaints coming from my feet, I decided to head east towards Rockefeller Center.

While waiting for the traffic light to give me the go-ahead to cross Broadway at West 45th Street, I took some more photos of Times Square. A trio of women joined me at the crosswalk and one asked me if I'd like her to take my photo. Of course, I accepted her invitation and the Times Square photo (right)  is the result of her handiwork.

Five more blocks and I was in the middle of Rockefeller Center. Foot traffic was light, so I thought it might be a good time to go to the Top of the Rock. I entered the RCA Building (you call it what you want, it will always be the "RCA Building" to me) and found the ticket counter for the Top of the Rock.

My timing was good; there were no lines and I was on my way. Before getting on the elevator to go to the top, I had to go through a the metal detector and I set it off. The guard looked at me, then waved me on with the words, "Must be your bracelets, hon'."

That was a new one! I've been called "miss" and "ma'am" before, but never "hon'." I smiled at the guard and got on the elevator.

Seventy stories later, I was on top of the RCA Building and the weather was perfect. Visibility was virtually infinite and the view was spectacular. To the south, the Jersey shore was visible, to the north, Catskill peaks poked over the horizon, to the northeast, I could see the Connecticut shoreline, and all around me was The City.

I spent about an hour atop, taking a lot of photos and taking it all in. I asked a couple of people to take photos of me and more than a couple of people asked me to do the same for them.

Next, I wanted to go to Saint Patrick's Cathedral, which is just across the street from Rockefeller Center. I took the elevator back down and walked to 5th Avenue. During this short walk, a young man cut me off and immediately apologized, "Excuse me, hon'."

Second "hon'" in an hour. I started to wonder if "hon'" was a New York thing, but I didn't care. A blown kiss and two hon's meant I was passing, however, I was about to receive another term of endearment that would seal it.

As I walked up 5th Avenue toward Saint Pat's, a small group of high school boys were heading towards me. As I passed through the group, I heard one of the boys say, "Dyke."

Now I knew I was passing!

I crossed 5th Avenue and entered Saint Pat's. There was a Mass in progress and the priest was just finishing the sermon.

This was a big deal for me. I was a Roman Catholic and my religion was the source of much needless guilt about crossdressing throughout my life. I overcame the guilt years ago and now I was entering the church for the first time en femme.

When I planned this visit, I thought it would be like spitting in the eye of the Church of Rome. "Take that for all the pain and suffering you brought down upon me for so long."

But instead of feeling vengeful, I felt wonderful. The prodigal son has returned, but now he is your daughter!

I decided to attend the Mass. I remembered and recited all the prayers and when it was time for the Sign of Peace, I exchange handshakes and "peace be with you's" with all the folks around me, or so I thought.

From behind me came an anxious voice, "Peace be with you, Ma'am. Peace be with you, Ma'am."

I realized I missed someone, so I turned around and exchanged another handshake and "peace be with you" with a fellow two rows behind me.

During the Mass, I noticed a reproduction of the famous painting, the Black Madonna of Częstochowa in one of the side altars of the cathedral.

Being a Pole, I checked it out and discovered that that side altar was dedicated to the saints of Poland. It included biographies, paintings, and sculptures of all the saints. After saying a prayer for all my deceased relatives at the side altar, I exited the cathedral.

It was now 7 PM and the last meal I had was breakfast, so I was hungry and decided to treat myself by having dinner at the Rink Bar, the outdoor bar/restaurant that resides in the Rockefeller Center ice skating rink when it is too warm for ice skating. My table for one was immediately in front of the fountain, so I did not feel lonely eating solo because Prometheus was right by my side.

I had peach sangria, watercress salad, rissota crab cakes, and coffee. They were all excellent and they were all only $50 and change!

After dinner, I hailed a cab and enjoyed the ride down 5th Avenue while reflecting on my wonderful day out en femme.

Monday, June 15, 2009

the end

Monday was a half day en femme.

I attended the last day of the workshop en femme, then returned to my hotel to change into boy mode for my trip back home. As a result, I did not have much interaction with the public at large en femme.

***

I can look back and laugh at myself now, but you know what I worried about the whole time I was in Manhattan? I feared that while I was walking around town, someone would recognize me as a guy, grab my wig, and run off with it! (I brought an extra wig just in case.)

***

The photo shows me dining with Prometheus at the Rink Bar restaurant in the heart of Rockefeller Center.

***

In conclusion, I found myself.

Everything just fell into place.

* Getting cold feet about attending the workshop en femme

* Phoning the workshop to find out if they had any issues about my attendance en femme.

* Getting their green light of support to attend in whatever way I felt most comfortable.

* Finding a group of fellow attendees, who did not shun me, but respected me.

* The group's respect motivated me to be completely up front with them about my transness.

* My planned "show 'n' tell" became a natural conduit for coming out.

* The group's respect seemed to grow ten-fold after I came out.

* Coming out freed all my stress about the workshop; I really let myself go and apply myself fully in the workshop...

* Which permitted me to get a lot out of the workshop that I will apply in my career as a writer.

There was always the possibility that something could go wrong, but it did not. Maybe I was just lucky, maybe I was well-prepared, maybe some higher power was watching over me, I dunno.

But I do know that integrating all of me at the workshop permitted me to integrate myself outside the workshop, too. I was myself throughout the day rather than trying to impersonate someone else. And integrated as myself, I felt very confident about myself.

An example: one morning after I dressed en femme, I adjusted the thermostat in my hotel room and somehow managed to shutdown the system. Nothing I tried could bring the system back to life, so I called the front desk and they said they would send someone up. In the recent past, I would have panicked and changed into boy mode as quickly as possible. But, that morning, I stayed in girl mode. When the maintenance man showed up, I interacted with him without concern or nervousness and he reacted in a positive manner.

Another example: Flag down a cab wearing a dress and high heels and you usually get the first available cab. Now that's power and it just added to my confidence!

I am so happy that I did what I did. It changed me for the better by making myself whole and more confident, so confident that I no longer fear being outed, nor do I fear coming out to anyone.

* Thank you, Holly, for the word "womanhattan," as well as for the Audrey Hepburn quotation, which helped take the edge off of the trepidation I am having about this upcoming adventure.

Changing Room Fun

Dressing Room Selfie

I never get tired of shopping for clothing. Browsing through the racks and finding a half-dozen outfits to take to the changing room is just as much fun today as it was when I would browse through my mother’s closet and find outfits to try on in front of her full-length mirror.

Just writing about shopping motivates me to go shopping. After all I do need something new to wear when I go to Hamvention (as if I don’t already have a half-dozen dresses hanging in my closet that still have their price tags attached).

Someday my tombstone will read, “Shopped ‘Til She Dropped.”

Anyway here are a few thing I learned when shopping.

👠 If a store associate is available when going to the changing room to try on your finds, play dumb and ask where the changing rooms are located. I do this whenever possible for insurance purposes, that is, if somebody complains about a dude in the lady’s dressing room, the dude can say that’s where the store associate told me to go.

👠 Take as many outfits as possible to try on when you go to the changing room. Some stores limit the number you can take in, some don’t, but in any case, go for the max in order to minimize the number of times you have to change in and out of your street clothes.

👠 Shop at smaller women’s clothing stores rather than big department stores. You won’t get a lot of hands-on assistance in large department stores, however, you usually will get assistance in smaller women’s clothing stores. For example, when you are ready to try on your finds, an associate will “start” a changing room for you (your very own queendom) and sometimes they will even put a sign on the door reserving that room for you with your femme name emblazoned on the sign. If something is the wrong size, the associate will fetch another size to try on saving you the trouble of getting back into your street clothes to do the fetching yourself.

👠 In smaller stores, savvy associates will size you up and recommend clothing for you to try on. This has happened to me more than once and I ended up trying clothing on that looked great on me, but I would have never given a second look if the sales associate had not made the suggestion.

👠 Speaking of street clothes, wear an outfit that you can strip off and put back on easily. I own a sweater dress that has a full-length zipper in front, which is perfect for quick undressing/dressing. Jumpsuits also work well.

👠 The associates want to sell, so if they compliment you on what you try on, take the compliment with a grain of salt. If you go shopping with a friend, your friend’s compliments may not be any more valuable than the store associate’s because your friend may not want to hurt your feelings. So here is a way I get an independent appraisal of what I am trying on… I step out of the dressing room on the pretense of viewing myself in the full-length mirrors usually hung throughout the store. My goal is for another customer to see me while I am doing this. If they gush over what I am wearing, it is a bingo! Whenever I have done this, other customers always check me out while I am checking me out and if they like what they see, they let me know.

👠 For a quick self-appraisal, take a selfie or have an associate take your photo. The difference between what you “see” in a mirror and what you “see” in a photo is surprising ― trust the photo, not the mirror.

Shopping for women’s clothing is almost as much fun as wearing women’s clothing! So, you go girls and have some fun!

Wearing Wholesale7 (Source: Wholesale7)

John Mulaney (center) femulates on a 2018 episode of television's Saturday Night Live.

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.

Actually, I 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.

My appearance in the ladies' room occasionally attracts attention in a positive way when another women compliments me on my appearance or asks 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 its 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 the hook that is usually mounted on the inside of the stall door.

And most importantly, remember to sit to pee!

Wearing Nine West (Source: Nine West)

Buster Keaton (in dark wig and dark dress) and other actors femulating in the 1930 film Doughboys.