Passing at the Department of Public Safety

Jeanette Johnson’s Passing Success Story

On a Monday morning back in August, I decided to go to the Department of Public Safety to obtain a photo identification card for Jeanette. I thought that going to the office in Katy, rather than Houston, might result in a shorter line and quicker service. I was very mistaken.

I dressed appropriately for the endeavor. I wore black dress pants, black flats, a black and white stripped boat neck blouse with complimentary jewelry and makeup. The blouse had a wide neckline and I chose a bra with clear straps that showed slightly, but was great with this blouse.

When I entered the building, I saw about 200 people sitting in folding metal chairs waiting in line. The chairs were arranged in two long rows inside what I assume, was an old gymnasium. The program seemed to be as the person in the very front of the line was served, everyone stood up and then moved one seat closer to a walled-off office where the clerks were housed. My ability to pass was about to be tested to the max.  

I had women of all ages for the next three seats on either side of me. It turns out that the women were all very friendly and talkative. I had been taking voice lessons from a local speech therapist (Sally McKee) and felt my voice would not give me away. The six of us became somewhat of a group. The women in the last two chairs to my right and left would slide their chairs a little forward to form a moving quarter moon.  

I was neither the center of attention nor was I completely ignored. I was just one of the group. We talked about how long and slow the line was. We debated whether or not our particular need with the D.P.S. could be accomplished on line. Where Gloria got her blouse, where Ellen got her hair styled, where I got my shoes, the best steak place in town, the cost of gasoline, soccer, little league, ballet...

Four of the six of us decided we would go get a margarita if we ever got finished. As it turned out, the 3.5 hours to get finished killed those ideas because of my buddies’ obligations with children, husbands and boyfriend.

Nearing the end of three hours, I passed through a passage way to a hall where the ceiling lowered from the gym height to that of a normal office. I could see inside the inner sanctum and knew that soon I would enter where the clerks would take care of my request. There was a ladies’ room in the hall, but no one dared enter it for fear they would lose their place in line.  

I began to think my legs would wear out from all of the rising and sitting. I was wrong. My legs did fine, but the strain on the clear, flexible bra straps was just too much. As I rose to move one seat closer to the Holy of Holies, my right bra strap released from the back hook. Like a sling shot, it shot forward and almost out of the front of my blouse. The girls were all looking at pictures of Peggy’s new grandchild and didn’t notice.

My right silicone breast form teetered at the top of the cup trying to decide if I would look better with my boobs horizontal or vertical. It decided vertical. I am sure a couple of my new friends were old enough to have experienced sagging breasts, but I don’t think theirs sagged as quickly or as unevenly as mine. I tried to be very nonchalant as I placed my right forearm under the runaway to try to corral it before anyone noticed.

Gradually I worked it back into the vicinity of symmetry held in the general area of the bra cup. I could have gotten up, gone to ladies’ room, removed my blouse and bra, reconnected the strap, redressed and returned to line. However, I was afraid the pace of the line would suddenly surge forth, my compatriots would be finished and gone and I would have to fight with strangers to get my place back. I decided, if necessary, I would pick my boob off the floor, stick in my purse and continue forward rather than face going to the end of the line. As it turned out, I could have gone home, changed bras and blouses and would still be sitting in about the same place when I got back,

I realized that short of a ladies’ room trip, I required some other means of securing right boob. I chose to pull the loose strap over to the secured strap and then proceeded to tie it to the good one just beneath the blouse opening. I figured this configuration might hold up through 10 to 15 more rises and reseats.  There were still 12 people in front of me.  

I kept my arms crossed beneath my breasts. Most would assume this posture indicated frustration with the wait in line. I hoped none of the girls would suspect that I was trying to save them from possible harm from the rebound that might occur when a three pound breast form bounces off of a vinyl composition tile floor. Yep, that’s me, always looking out for others!

I saw what was causing the line to be so slow when I finally entered the office. Two of the three clerks were on break. One young man was processing customers while one lady in her early thirties was sitting against a back wall, eating chips and reading Cosmopolitan. The third clerk was an older lady who had pulled her desk chair back a few feet and was reading the Bible while making notes in the margin.  After 10 minutes, the two other clerks assumed their duties.

As my luck was running so good, when my time came, it was inevitable that I took a seat before the Bible reader. She asked how she could help me and I stated that I would like a State of Texas Photo Identification Card. I presented her with my driver’s license to prove I was the person I claimed to be.

She accepted my driver’s license and asked me why I wanted a photo identification card since I already had a driver’s license which had my picture. Before I could answer, she looked down at my license. She glanced up above her reading glasses after about five seconds and looked at me. Then she looked at my license. Then me. My license. Me. I kept waiting for her to hit me with her Bible or at least start quoting scripture from Deuteronomy. Neither happened.

She informed me that I had filled out the wrong form, gave me the correct form, directed me to a counter attached to a nearby wall and told me to come back and stand behind the person she would be helping next. She informed me she would take care of me as soon as she finished her next customer.

With only my left arm supporting by breasts, I filled out the form. I returned to her desk and within another three minutes, my payment was made, my picture taken and a temporary identification card presented with a promise that my final card would arrive in about 15 day. I found a side door to leave so I wouldn’t have to parade back through the gym. 

I received my card two weeks later an, thankfully, the head and shoulders photo does not show that my boobs were about a bubble and a half off plumb when the camera flashed.

Wearing H&M

Max von Sydow and Alberto Lionello femulating in the 1977 Italian film Gran Bollito.

Passing as a Passion

My inbox is overflowing with your passing success stories. I thank you for sharing your stories and I promise to post them all. And if you have not yet sent me your best passing success story, I encourage you to do so.

Meg Winters

I had a few visits with a therapist. On visit one, I explained Meg. 

On visit three, I left work early and Meg went to the appointment. As the therapist came out with her current patient, I said hi and she said, “I'm sorry. I'm booked today. You'll have to make an appointment for a different day.” 

I identified myself and we had an... interesting session.

Lee B.

A couple of times a year I have to travel (via auto) from my home in Melbourne, Florida, to Atlanta, which is about an 8-hour drive. Not too long ago, Lee had the opportunity to make the trip! Although the reason for driving to Atlanta was an appointment for the “he” side, I thought it would be a great time to be Lee for the trip up to Atlanta and the ride back home to Florida.  

I started planning this adventure... it certainly is a lot more work laying out the different outfits, coordinating shoes, jewelry, makeup and throwing in the few guy things for the appointment. During this process of getting everything together, the thought crossed my mind... check-in at the hotel in Atlanta!  Not only do they want the credit card you use for the stay, they also want your driver’s license. 

There is simply not any way my driver’s license picture would pass even the most superficial examination, that is, the picture did not look anything like the person that was checking in. Not to mention the names don’t exactly match. Although Lee is my middle name on the license, I just don’t think that would overcome the obvious difference in the picture. I decided that a possible moment of awkwardness was not going to be enough of a deterrent to spending some quality time. On with the packing.

Up bright and early, probably earlier than I would have under normal circumstances, after all there are many more things to think about. Everything seemed to come together fairly smoothly and I was on I-95 by 8AM headed to the Big Peach (Atlanta). 

The next eight hours went by very uneventfully with the rest stops and one fill at a gas station. I really don’t know if the uneventful trip gave me some extra time to wonder about the check-in at the hotel or not, but I did roll it around in my mind a couple more times. Maybe it just reinforced my desire to do what I planned.

Atlanta’s legendary afternoon traffic did not seem to be overly challenging on this day; I drove up to the front of the hotel and picked up everything I would need for registering. There was only one clerk at the desk and she was waiting on a customer as I walked up. She finished with the customer and I went to the desk and presented my confirmation paper.  

After looking at it, she then spoke the words I had been concerned about the whole time, “May I please have the credit card used and your driver's license.”  

Although I was completely expecting those words, I no doubt took a little extra deep breath in anticipation. I placed the license and credit card on the desk, she thanked me and proceeded to enter whatever information she needed. Then she looked up at me and said, “I'm sorry, I will need your license, too.”

I then smiled and said, “That is my license.”

She just stood still for a moment and then I also said, “I’m sorry. I guess the picture makes it a little confusing.”

She then gave me a big smile while giving me the keys and wishing me a pleasant stay! I was very pleased with her handling of the check-in and I at least, I felt I passed.

One last little wrinkle in my little adventure. I got settled into the room and lightly unpacked. I separated “his” clothes and set them out for the next morning. As I was getting everything ready, it suddenly dawned on me I had not packed any guy shoes and I just did not think the heels I brought would go unnoticed at the appointment the next morning! So shopping was on the agenda!  

Somehow it just was not as much fun going shopping for guy shoes while dressed as Lee. However, I enjoyed it anyway!

Elise

I do not femulate out there among the people but I am fortunate enough to spend plenty of time en femme at home. A few Octobers ago, I saw a pair of heels on the Payless website that I just had to have and wearing a pair of nude hose under my jeans, I drove to my local Payless to buy them “for my Halloween costume.”  

The store was empty so I decided to try them on as quickly as humanly possible to make sure I had the right size. I did not hear the saleswoman behind me until she said, “Those are very popular.” 

And then, noticing my feet in nylon, said, “It appears you came prepared.”  

She suggested I take a few steps in them to make sure I had the correct size. Walking from one end of the store to the other in black stilettos under the warm smile of a compassionate woman is a heart-warming experience – I'll never forget!

 

Wearing Unique Vintage

Femulators on Filipino television's I Heart You Pare 

Still Passing After All These Years

More passing success stories from the femulating front line...

Claire

Five or six years ago, my wife and I were asked to a Super Bowl party at a friend’s house. As we were mixing and mingling, our hostess introduced me to a couple who were snowbirding (as we say in Florida) from Michigan. 

“Sue and Claire, this is XX and XY (I’ve forgotten their names) who are renting the house next door.”  

So as we were chatting, the lady noticed our wedding rings.  

“So how long have you been married?”  

I replied “Forty five years.”  

Her response, “Oh, I didn’t think same-sex weddings were legal back then.”    

An enlightening discussion followed. 

Jenny Shaw

While I was staying a few days with my TV friend Jim and his wife, a lady friend of theirs had been invited to join us for the evening meal. She was well aware of Jim being a TV and had been told beforehand that there would be another person, i.e., me, at the meal and that I was also transgender.

When she arrived I was introduced to her as Jenny – I was fully en femme, but very casually dressed – and we sat and chatted for half an hour or so before the meal. I’m 5’ 11” and have a typical male bone structure and made no attempt to change my voice while we were chatting, so I assumed it was obvious to her that I was the other trans person she’d been told about. 

Just before the meal, I made some comment about wearing female clothing and she became quite confused. She then said that she hadn’t realized I was the trans person she’d been told would be present and had been about to ask me where my husband was!  Wow – I didn’t see that coming. 

Even after all was explained she had trouble accepting that I wasn’t a biological woman.  Since then, she and I have been out and about together shopping and dining and she still can only see me as being female.

Linda

I had just finished my transformation in my car parked in a lay-by/turnout. Waiting for a lull in the traffic in order to get back in my car after having just put ‘his’ clothes in the boot/trunk, when a passing lorry tooted at me. This reminded me of the time I had just emerged alone into the open air from the underground/subway in London and got wolf-whistled. GGs would be offended by such sexist experiences, but for me, it was pure heaven. LOL

Lisa

I was on a weekend getaway from London to Colchester and was walking back to my B&B along a side street at dusk. Ahead of me approached four young men in their late teens/early twenties. The sidewalk was narrow, my B&B was still a block away and there was traffic in the street, so I had no choice but to continue straight ahead and hope for the best.  

As they got closer, I could tell they were inebriated, which is never a good sign with a group of young men. As I walked by them, one of the guys spoke to me and said, “Do you think you could handle all of us?”

It was a disgusting comment and was obviously an inappropriate thing to say to a mature women (or any woman for that matter). I paused in my steps because I wanted to say something motherly in response.  But before I could reply, one of his companions quickly interjected, “Leave her alone!”

And they did.  It may not have been my “best” passing experience, but it certainly was my most important one in terms of personal safety. 

Wearing Rue La La

Just another girl from the Internet

Someday Funnies

Wearing Venus

Visit the Internet to find “Millions” like her.

More Success Stories

Your response to my request for your best passing success stories has been great. Here are three more with more to come.

Lena Andrews

Getting out and about in Sydney was an infrequent occurrence in the 1980's and 1990's.

Being married with a loving wife who did not approve of my crossdressing, was the major reason. Like thousands of other transvestites/crossdressers, photos were the only way we could view how we appeared in feminine fashions.

While my late wife was touring Hawaii in 1987, came the opportunities to be seen! I attended a ballet at the Sydney Opera House. From our two-bedroom unit, I undertook a taxi ride into the city. 

As you may know from photos of the Opera House, there is a very large and long set of concrete steps into the Concert Hall. Once there and through the ticket check, there was a long carpeted series of stairs to my seat at the end of an aisle. Was escorted to it by a female usherette who commented on my choice of “costume'.” At the interval, I took the easy way to use the toilets, for there are invalid facilities.

Went to one of the bars for a coffee and was again appraised of my choice of gown, earrings and sensible choice of shoes for mounting all those stairs. Also, to hand with all the usual female bits and bobs in it, was a gold mesh clutch. I enjoyed the performance while seated next to two ladies in evening dress who gave me critical appraisals and we talked easily before the ballet and part of the interval. So I believe I was accepted as a woman which gave me a warm and confirming assurance.

Marie Anne

About three months ago, Marie was introduced to a very friendly woman who immediately accepted Marie, although I am not quite sure if I fully passed in the circumstance, but I was definitely accepted as Marie and we became very good girl friends. 

Just two weeks ago, my friend arranged a girls’ get-together with two of her cis girlfriends. The four of us met at a IHOP for lunch. By happenstance, our server, a young waiter had served Marie’s male persona less than a week before. There was no recognition or undo reaction, just four women out for lunch. He took our orders and engaged in some small talk asking if it was to be one bill or split. 

The table talk was varied and pleasant, covering a range of girl interchange, some about their boyfriends without hint of Marie being male and privy to this girl chatter.

The after event comments from the two girls/women included plans to get together again soon for a girls’ night out at a restaurant with a dance floor, which Marie had visited two years back. Marie was noted by the two girls independently as a “classy lady” and “a delight to talk to.”

Nancy Ng

My most memorable passing success story was at our local CD club's (www.Xpressions.org) Christmas Dinner & Party a few years back. It took place at a hotel ballroom, had just ended and I was heading back to my hotel room.

I was dressed in a very bright pink sequins dress that the hotel night manager had already complimented me on as being “very sparkly.” When the doors of the elevator opened and I stepped in, there was a senior couple in it already. 

As the elevator started to move, the husband said, “You look very nice.” 

Then the wife chirped in, “I used to have a body like that.” So, unless the wife was trans, I don't think they read me. 

I was tempted to say in my deepest male voice, “Lady, there’s no way you would have had a body like mine.” But, I just said, “Thanks, have a good evening” in my best feminine voice as I exited the elevator to my floor.

 

Wearing Rotate

Two of the “Millions” on the Internet

...and a Happy New Year

Your Passing Success Stories

In Monday’s post, I asked you to send me your passing success stories in order to cheer things up at the end of this dreadful year. 

Some of you told your stories in the Comments section of Monday's post, while some of you sent me your stories via email. I will begin posting the email stories below in the order received. Regarding the Comments stories, I refer you back to Monday’s post.

Thank you all who responded. And it is not too late to send me your story. And as I wrote on Monday, please only send me one – your very best – passing success story, even though you may have a million of them. That way everyone will have a chance to tell their story.

Anna María

Three or four times a year we go to a town about two hours away to visit with a dear friend. It is not often that my wife accepts to go out with me while dressed; she is afraid we may ran into someone we know and for some reason or another, I had not been there dressed for many years.

We arrived early so my wife could visit a store she likes and at the store we ran into our friend. She did recognize my wife right away and though she knew I would be presenting as a female, she did not recognize me at all. 

This is what she emailed to me the next morning. “Truly, it was a shock to realize who you were... and you looked so comfortable in your own skin... be well... see you again.” 

Later we had lunch together at a large table to keep our social distancing. It was a perfect girls’ lunch and my first real outing this 2020, other than once a week dressing up to walk our Cocker Spaniels.

Paula

I was shopping one of those huge wig and beauty supply super stores just north of Philadelphia. I was dressed business-like in black slacks, a magenta sweater and demure jewelry. A young sales associate asked me if I needed help. I sat down in a chair and we started trying on wigs. 

I didn’t try to conceal the fact that I was a femulator – heck, my wig was off so I thought it was obvious. It was so much fun trying so many different looks. After a while she asked me “Did you lose your hair from chemo?”

“Oh no,” I answered, “This is just the natural me.” 

It didn’t click that the reason she asked this was because she thought I was a cisgender woman recovering from breast cancer. It dawned on me later. Because she had seen me without a wig, I assumed she knew I was a femulator. So,I asked her, “Do you get many other men customers in here?” 

She replied, “No, not really,” and then a minute or two later with a confused look she asked, “Why do you say it like that?” 

She was confused by the word “other,” so I explained to her that I was a guy who was transgender and that I lived part-time as a woman. 

“Oh… I thought you were a woman,” she stammered. 

Now I’ve played this over in my mind a thousand times. I’ve had sales associates appease me and act surprised when I mentioned that I was transgender. You can tell when someone is being polite. This young lady didn’t have to say that. I kept dropping clues that I was a femulator, but she truly seemed surprised. She thought I was female and for me, to be recognized as a woman was the perfect end to that two-week period.

Angela Booth

I had an appointment to have a new wig styled at my salon. I always go dressed and go to a side room with my stylist. On arrival, I gave my details to the receptionist who checked my appointment and asked me to take a seat. I saw my stylist working away and she waved at me. 

One of the other girls had just finished washing a ladies’ hair. She walked towards me and asked if I was next to have my hair washed...

Gracie Rose

I love when I hear someone say ma’am or refer to me as her. I work hard to blend, but when I hear something like that, I feel that I am truly passing.

A few weeks ago, I was walking a walking trail in a local park en femme. The trail was a 1-mile loop that I completed three times. There was a gentleman going the opposite direction, so we passed multiple times. I smiled and said “good morning” as we passed the first time, as is my standard greeting to everyone on the trail. 

The second time, I smiled as we passed. The third time, he waved for me to stop. I pulled out my earbuds and he asked me, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Christine Baranski, the actress?”

I told him that no one had told me that before. I was somewhat surprised to hear that. He noticed my confusion and said, “When you smiled back there, you reminded me of her.” 

He paused and said’ “That’s a compliment.” 

I thanked him and we both continued our separate walks. I was elated that I not only seem to have passed, but was compared favorably to a nice-looking actress.

Stay tuned for more of your passing success stories in near future posts.

Wearing ModCloth

Georg Preuße and Reiner Kohler femulate on West German television's Mary & Gordy. Search YouTube for “Mary & Gordy” and you will find a slew of videos from the show.

Review: Venus Floral Printed Velvet Dress

I always wanted a Cheongsam style dress and when I saw this offering on the Venus website, I quickly placed an order and received the dress in the mail 10 days later, which is atypical for Venus – usually their orders take longer to arrive.

This is a bodycon dress made of stretchy, figure-hugging velvet in a seductive style designed to show off your every curve. The velvet is so soft and comfortable that although it is like wearing a second skin, it does not feel tight because it stretches as you do.

I ordered a size 16 and as you can see, the hem falls just below the knee. The sleeves are a little short (my arms are too long), but I don't believe that it detracts from the overall look of the dress  

The only qualm I had before ordering the dress was its high neck collar. I was concerned that the collar would ruin my makeup when I slipped into the dress. However, I had nothing to worry about because the collar has a zipper in back to facilitate getting the dress on and off.

I like the dress a lot and I plan to wear it to the next cocktail party I attend.

Wearing Bebe

Yet another one of the “Millions” on the Internet

Revisiting Passing is not important, but...

As I wrote here on Thursday, just getting out en femme is more important than getting out en femme and passing, but it sure feels wonderful on those occasions when you know that you passed! 

In celebration of the holiday season and the near end of this dreadful year, let’s share some good news for a change. Send me one of your passing successes – that time you knew you definitely passed and I will share your story here with our readers.

(Please only send me one – your very best – passing success story, even though you may have a million of them. That way everyone will have a chance to tell their story.)

To kick things off, here is a success story that Kim sent me after she read Thursday's post.

I accept as fact that it is difficult for me to pass, because I am a tall person with many physically male attributes. But that doesn’t mean I do not try. I do the best I can with shapewear, selection of clothing, wig style and makeup, as well as subtle adjustments to mannerisms (some innate) and voice, in an effort to pass.

Yes, I try to pass. I want to pass. I want the freedom to move among the people, unquestionably seen as woman. That’s my ultimate goal. I know I seldom attain that goal, but it’s a great motivator.

And once in a while I actually have succeeded beyond my expectations. For example, one summer night six months prior to covid, I went to a local bar/restaurant for dinner and a few drinks. I was seated near a large group of young women out for a bachelorette party. Somehow I got drawn into their group and spent much of the evening enjoying the revelry with them. Most of the time was spent chatting with the pretty young woman who invited me to join their group. 

I’m not sure why, but at some point I acknowledged what I presume was obvious – that I was transgender. To my surprise, the girl was surprised by my acknowledgement. She said she never for a moment imagined that I was anything other than an attractive, mature woman. She insisted so. I was stunned and pleased and frankly felt so validated as a woman.

I know... I’m not supposed to worry about passing, but when it does happen, it is utterly wonderful.

Wearing Cynthia Rowley

Rumano Fabrishh – another one of the “Millions” on the Internet

Someday Funnies

Wearing Magda Butrym

Another one of the “Millions” on the Internet

Some Things

One of my Christmas self-gifts

When I went by the name “Staci,” my email address was staci-staci@sbcglobal.net. When I changed my name to Stana, I created a new email address (stana-stana@sbcglobal.net), but did not delete the old email address because some people continued to use the old address to contact me.

The old email address is no longer working (I can’t figure out why), so I am abandoning it. If the old address is in your address book, please replace it with stana-stana@sbcglobal.net.

👠👠👠

I googled “femulator” the other day and discovered a Kindle book titled Femulator 2.0, whose main character is named “Stan.” What a coincidence!

👠👠👠

I mention this almost ever year around this time. Stana seldom receives holiday gifts, so she takes matters into her own hands and self-gifts. This year, I gifted myself a coat, a dress, shoes and makeup. I already reviewed the shoes here and promise to review my other gifts in the near future.

👠👠👠

Ten inches of snow fell here on Thursday. I've seen worse. Took me two hours to clean the driveway and walks – that's one way to help maintain my figure!

Wearing Vince Camuto

Found this image on a Pinterest crossdressing board. Looks like an advertisement for a Swedish department store. Also looks like the same person is modeling the Herr and Dam outfits, but I could be wrong. Anyone have a clue? UPDATE: A number of readers have identified the model as Swedish professional femulator Christer Lindarw. Thank-you.