Someday Funnies

Hats off to Angela for the idea for this funny!

Wearing Ulla Johnson

Femulating on a 1995 episode of Hungarian television’s Éretlenek.

The Ladies’ Room

Gina asked me for my take on using the ladies’ room when we are presenting as ladies.

As I recall, the first time I ever used the ladies’ room was at a venue where my support group was having its annual banquet. For our “convenience,” the venue assigned us our own private restroom. I was having none of that and when I had to go, I used the ladies’ room that all the cisgender ladies were using. 

Entering the ladies’ inner sanctum and mixing with the female civilians was the highlight of that banquet. And ever since then, I have always used the ladies’ rooms and have never looked back.

I feel completely safe using the ladies' rooms in Connecticut. I don't give it a second thought because Connecticut courts say to use the restroom that matches your gender presentation. So Stana uses the ladies’ room and Stan uses the men’s room.

Actually, I use the ladies’ room wherever I find myself ― Massachusetts, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia ― in locales that do not have Connecticut's diverse restroom policy. Using the restroom in those states is a little daunting, but 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 in those foreign climes.

Some girls recommend getting in and out of the ladies’ room as fast as possible so as not to bring any attention to oneself, 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.

Life in the ladies’ room is very different than life in the men’s room. In general, men mind their own business in the men’s room and do not strike up conversations with other men. They do their business, occasionally wash their hands and get out of Dodge ASAP while trying to avoid eye contact with any other men using the facility.

In contrast, ladies often greet other ladies in the ladies’ room and will strike up a conversation at the drop of a hat. I lost count how many times cisgender ladies have struck up a conversation with me by complimenting my shoes, my hair, my dress, the weather, the venue, etc. So be prepared to chat with the other ladies’ using the facilities.

Gina asked, “What sort of attention am I likely to get from other users if I use such facilities and how do I avoid the prospect of being asked to leave the establishment as a result of attracting the wrong kind!”

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. So if your presentation works out and about, it will also work in the confines of the ladies’ room. And you will not be asked to leave the establishment.

I have never had any issues using ladies’ rooms in restaurants, malls, bars, department stores, universities, highway rest stops, banquet halls, gas stations, colleges, museums, theaters, convention halls, fairgrounds or anywhere else. Nor have I ever heard a negative comment regarding my presence in the holy of holies. Worst case, I might get an odd look, which indicates to me that the looker is not sure whether I am a girl or a boy. 

Family restrooms offer a safe place to do your thing without worrying about causing a commotion, but I still use the ladies’ room even if a family restroom is available. I would rather encounter a woman looking at me oddly in the ladies’ room than a guy looking at me oddly in the family restroom.

Usually, I am not a distraction and I actually enjoy my ladies’ rooms visits! But I dread using the ladies’ room for its intended purpose. 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 Eloquii

Johnny Downs femulating in the 1941 film All American Co-Ed.

You can view this film on YouTube and be sure to check out the stage full of femulators at the beginning of the film.

Someday Funnies

Hats off to Angela for the idea for this funny!

Wearing Boston Proper

Contestant in the 2019 Miss Engineering Womanless Beauty Pageant

I Resemble That

Unless you get down in the weeds and read all of this blog’s comments, you may have missed my comment exchange with Mikki over the weekend. 

Someday Funnies used a movie still from a 1930’s film starring Robert Montgomery.

Mikki commented, “Ooooooh, Robert Montgomery femulating. I'd like to see that!”

My research failed to find any occurrence of Robert Montgomery en femme, but I did offer the image above as the “Best I can do.” That’s Robert’s daughter, Elizabeth, in the photo and the facial resemblance between father and daughter is striking.

It’s ironic how females often resemble their fathers, while males often resemble their mothers. I know in my case, I resemble my mother while my sister resembles my father. There are photos of me en femme where I look just like Mom. And lucky me, I not only inherited her looks, but I also inherited her legs.

Personally, I think that my legs are ok, but other people have convinced me that they are more so. My legs always receive good grades. My mother often said I had beautiful legs (“you should have been a girl with legs like yours”). My wife and other women have admitted that I have nicer legs than they do. A friend's spouse even nicknamed me ”Leggy.” 

Would you believe that in her youth, my mother was also nicknamed “Leggy.”

And so it goes!

Wearing Nine West booties

Robert Vaughn femulating in a 1983 episode of television’s Hotel.

Someday Funnies

Wearing ModCloth

Diether Krebs femulating in a 1987 episode of West German television’s Sketchup.
You can view the episode on YouTube.

At the 2021 MTV Video Music Awards, Bretman Rock wore the same gown that Aaliyah wore to the 2000’s MTV VMAs. 

Monday Mash

I Squeemed

I Squeem, You Squeem, We All Squeem for Nice Squeem Dept.

Searching for something else in this blog, I came upon my post extolling the virtues of the Squeem “Perfect Waist” waist cincher. Looking at the accompanying photo, I was impressed by my curvy figure and especially my flat tummy... so impressed that I thought I should revisit wearing the Squeem.

I tried to recall why I had given up wearing the Squeem. Knowing me, I was probably distracted by a new shiny object and abandoned the Squeem for it.

Also, I wondered how the Squeem would fit now that I am 25 pounds lighter than when I had last worn it, so I got it out of storage and tried it on. It fit perfectly. The only difference was that I had to use the “skinny” row of hook-and-eye closures rather than the “chubby” row of closures. 

I added my old Squeem to my arsenal of shapewear. 

Live Wigs Dept.

Big wig buyer that I am, everyday I receive email ads from various wig sellers. The Wig Company recently went above and beyond simple advertisements by introducing its customers to Tia, a wig expert who guest blogged “How To Make Synthetic Wigs Look Realistic. It is an excellent piece and includes a handful of how-to videos and a link to Tia’s YouTube channel that has even more – everything you wanted to know about wigs, but didn’t know who to ask!

Your Bra is My Bra Dept.

After 38 years of marital bliss, I can’t believe that I never knew my spouse’s bra size until I did the laundry the other day and discovered that my wife wears the same size bra as I do (or vice versa). We are so compatible – a match made in heaven!

Wearing Venus

Four femulators are on stage in this scene from the 2017 British film Glamour Dolls.

Someday Funnies

Wearing Theory

My Costume

By Lisa

I am wearing a costume today and I am not pretending to be my friend Kandi (the actress!) either! I am telling the truth, however, because I have been wearing a costume almost every day of my life. It is wonderful on those extended hours, days and weeks where I don’t have to put it on, but most of the time it is required for the “role” I play of being husband, father, grandfather, colleague and all around “good guy.” How about you? Are you wearing a costume today?

The problem with my costume is that it doesn’t enliven my senses. There is a reason our community has nicknamed this type of costume “drab” – compared to who we are, it is dull and boring and it robs us of choice. Even the choice to be drab is denied to us (thank you, Ralph Lauren for your attempt to be boring).

So what drab thing will you wear today: the black, brown or blue pants? What else: the blue shirt with black stripes, the blue shirt with red stripes or the blue shirt with no stripes? How about your shoes: brown loafers, gray tennis shoes or black oxfords? Will you have a tie with that order: maybe a red one with blue stripes or a blue one with red stripes or the solid red one? Are you looking for variety in your underwear today: you can change from boxers to briefs as long as they are dark colored or white and have a pouch at the front to give your mechanical gear extra room. Maybe top it all off with a dark hat and dark belt. Pretty boring stuff unless you cock your hat just right!

One of my theories is that I realized I was transgender at eight years old because that is when I understood just how boring my “whitey-tighty” world had become in terms of clothing (see drab examples above), emotions (best to have none), activities (relating to sports, technology or cars only, please), etc. I internalized a lot of my unhappiness with that box, but I also tentatively pushed back when I thought it was safe to do so by asking for more: more colors, more hand and facial expressions, more interests (including art, music and dance), more feelings and more intuition.

One way I have gotten more is to come up with some actual Halloween-style costumes (although I created them for myself just for fun and not for a specific event). In one, I decided I wanted to recreate a 1950’s “sock hop” theme; in the other, the look and feel of a flight attendant. The latter was fun because folks seemed to accept me as a recently arriving flight attendant!

Today, I push back big time. I want it all because being feminine makes me feel so gloriously and fully alive (like sunlight hitting water droplets after a rainfall and separating me into a brilliant display of color...)  

I must face certain facts, however, when it comes to wanting it all.  Even if I transitioned, I wouldn’t actually have it all. I would still need to be costumed in some ways. 

For example, I was blessed (or cursed, depending on one’s perspective) with a deep bass voice. Lisa doesn’t want that voice, so I must consciously employ my Lisa voice every time I speak as Lisa. Occasionally, I will slip up (especially when I need to shout, clear my voice or cough involuntarily); and when that happens, it feels (and sounds) ugly. There is a surgery to change one’s vocal cords, but I love to sing, and I just couldn’t bear to risk having to give that up. Doing that would make “me” a lesser me, not more.

Another example is my flat chest and built-in plumbing. I could have surgery to take care of both of those things and simulate the look that I crave, but my breasts still largely would be made of silicone – inside instead of outside (a hidden part of the costume wardrobe, but part of the costume nonetheless) and my plumbing would look, but not work like it should. Not to mention the fact that I only want to make love to one person: my wife, who doesn’t want to deal with any plumbing other than the type she is attracted to and fits with her plumbing (i.e., she is a straight cis-gender woman).

I hope I am not stepping on anyone else’s toes here or giving “too much information.” Please take the above comments as my own feelings – this stuff is pretty darn personal and many will feel differently. On the other hand, you may have some examples of your own of costumes or parts of costumes that must continue to be worn by those who have transitioned. 

I don’t want to belabor the point, however, as everyone wears some sort of mask every day, even cisgender folks. The sort of mask I am talking about is not the sort we have all been required to wear recently to keep each other safe, like the one I wore for my dress fitting...

No, I am talking about the part of themselves that every human being hides from view.

The conclusion for me is that there is no way for me to avoid being costumed for the rest of my life. Born to be an actor, I was made for this drama. At least, as Mr. Shakespeare reminds us, “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players.”

I plan to continue to revel in the smell of my stage makeup, even if I never experience total acceptance by my audience. I will be the best me I can be in whatever role I play, whether on stage or off stage. Someday the curtain will come down and my roleplaying will cease for good. At that point, the costume won’t matter to anyone, including me.

Wearing New York & Company

Curt Bois (left) femulating in the 1928 German film The Masked Mannequin. 

A Man-to-Man Talk

My 12-year-old son Cameron found me in the kitchen washing the breakfast dishes and began complaining, “Daddy, look how Mommy had me dress today!”

I looked up from the sink full of dishes to see how my spouse had outfitted our son. 

A short sleeveless white skater dress adorned his body and white patent Mary-Janes adorned his feet. Nude pantyhose encased his legs and a white purse, slung over his shoulder, completed the outfit. 

His eyes were lightly made up – just a touch of liner and mascara and a smudge of eyeshadow. Pink lip gloss highlighted his lips and he might have had a light touch of blush, too, but I was not sure. Either way, his makeup, as well as his whole presentation was befitting his age.

“What's the matter, Cammi? You look very pretty,” I replied.

“I can't go to school dressed like this,” he whined.

“Why not?’ I asked.

“The other boys will make fun of me,” he replied.

“I don't understand why they would,” was my perplexed retort.

“White – after Labor Day!” was his anxious reply.

“Of course, now I understand,” I replied. “Let's go upstairs, my little fashionista, and dress you properly for the season.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” my son beamed. Then he hurried over to me and gave me a hug. 

I bent over to kiss him on the forehead. As I did, my breasts brushed his face and he remarked, “Oh, Daddy, I can't wait until I'm old enough to wear a bra like you.”

“You know, you're just about old enough to start wearing a training bra.” I remarked. “Maybe Saturday, I will take you shopping and buy you a trainer.”

“That would be awesome!”

Then I patted him on his pantied rear and said, “Let's get going. We have to get you dressed up all over again before the school bus arrives.”

“OK, Daddy,” and with that Cameron ran ahead of me. As he reached the foot of the stairs, he looked back to see me lagging behind.

“Hurry up, Daddy.”

“I’m moving as fast as I can, but I can’t keep up with you in this tight skirt and high heels!”  

Wearing Natori

Gene Hackman dons drag in the 1996 film The Birdcage.