Friday, July 22, 2022

What’s Up, Doc?

My wife came home Tuesday afternoon after a month of hospitalization and rehabilitation. She is in good health, happy to be back home, but is not too thrilled with having to use a walker. 

I had to move a bookcase and some clutter to give her clear paths for her walker. Also, I have been her doting nurse on call 24/7. I think a nurse uniform will be appropriate for Halloween.


Source: Intermix
Wearing Jonathan Simkhai

womanless wedding in the UK
Femulating in a womanless wedding in the UK
Source: Aunty's Womanless Photos

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

How did you make out?

By Paula Gaikowski

Friday, Stana posted my article of memories, an archive of sort that chronicled my journey over the years dealing with this special gift that we have. One of those memories generated a request for more details about making out at a Halloween party when I was dressed as a girl.

This is something that for years I pushed down and away and didn’t want to remember or acknowledge. When I started dating and then married, I made it a point to consciously forget about it. Now at 63-years-old, years of therapy and self-acceptance, I can look back at the event with pleasant thoughts.

So, let’s go back in time to 1979, Hahn Air Base, Germany. A married couple from my workplace was having their big annual Halloween party at their house off base. We were a young crowd, older teens, 20’s, some 30’s, very much into partying. 

On the night shift, costumes were discussed and when boyfriends and husbands rejected the idea, I happily volunteered to go as a girl with just enough insincere resistance. At 19-years-old, I was a size 14-16 and could not wait to wear the Air Force blue skirt suit that women wore on duty.

If you know my story, I was no stranger to crossdressing at this age and really didn’t need any encouragement or help. One of my female co-workers was a happy helper and loaned a uniform. I made a covert trip to the Base BX to purchase bra, panties, pantyhose and a slip and to a German store in town, a red lipstick.

Over to Linda’s apartment the afternoon of the party to “get ready,” I remember feeling so proud that Linda was impressed with the proficiency and aptitude that I had in getting dressed in women’s clothes and putting on makeup. (I had spent years after school using my mom’s make-up and trying on her clothes.) 

As Femulations go, this was a good one. I liked the way I looked, considering my inexperience in dressing up fully to pass. 

The party itself was a raucous affair, ranging anywhere from 30-50 people. I had a great time, playing along with the innuendo and crude comments. I reveled in and relished the attention and felt so feminine. Now remember, this is Germany and the Mosel Valley, beer and wine! By midnight, those of us left were all very buzzed.

A small group had gathered down in the basement, a side room at the end of the evening. We were all chatting, laughing as the night wound down. Then it was quiet and I was alone with a guy who I had been talking to at different times throughout the night. We started talking about my costume, crossdressing, drag shows, and I remember specifically he asked me how it felt to wear pantyhose? My inhibitions thinned by alcohol, I replied “Great, Silky and smooth!” 

Two lustful and lascivious 19-year-olds, one ravenous for the feel of a woman, the other desiring to feel like a woman. Now alone in the dark, thousands of miles from home, both drunk. 

His hand skimmed my leg, soon it was up under my skirt. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered.

I was stunned, wanting to shriek and run, however, another part me wanted this, just a few seconds more I thought. He grabbed at my bra, I sighed, He pushed me backward and we’re lying down, a light kiss, then another, an embrace, this feels wonderful. Then as quickly as it started, it ends. I’m sitting alone and the night is ending. What just happened?

For years, I refused to think about that night buried away in the corners of my mind. I was young, confused and even ashamed of what happened. It has taken me years to accept and understand who I am. Now I take it out of that special hiding place, a treasured curio and share it with my sisters and community here at Femulate. 



Source: ShopBop
Source: ShopBop


Another femulator out and about
Another femulator out and about acclimating society to pretty men in pretty clothes.

Friday, July 15, 2022

Memories

By Paula Gaikowski

I couldn’t sleep the other night, so I began to remember, trying to find the earliest recollection of being transgender. These are some of the experiences that ran through my mind. It helps to share them with others who might have had similar experiences. Please feel free to comment or share your own thoughts or experiences. These times and events bond us together into a community

I remember being very young and watching my Mom get ready for work putting on her makeup and doing her hair. The smell of lipstick and hair spray are comforting and bring me back to this time.

I thought about the wedding I went to when I was 5-years-old and became so jealous of the flower girl. I still remember her yellow dress.

My First Communion, wishing I was on the girls’ side wearing one of those pretty white dresses, praying the host would magically transform me into a girl.

Watching the girls in 2-3 grades go to ballet class after school and thinking why can’t that be me?

When I was 7- or 8-years-old, seeing a young boy dressed as a girl at a Halloween party and me becoming jealous, I still remember the beautiful bouffant pink dress with black Mary-Janes and white tights. He truly wasn’t happy about how cute he looked. Oh I wish I could have taken his place.

It was the spring of 1968, I know because we just got our new car. I was 9-years-old and one Saturday morning I went down into my sister’s room and dressed in her clothes. It was the first time I dressed as a girl. I knew I was a girl at that moment. I knew I had to find a way to make everybody understand.

Coming home to an empty house and dressing in my Mom’s and sister’s clothes from age 9 until 18.

Having crushes on girls and wishing I could be them or like them.

Feeling embarrassed changing in a locker room full of men.

Feeling elated when an aunt told me light heartedly that I would have made a wonderful girl.

Going to a go-go bar with my friends and feeling sorry for the way the women were being treated.

At 19-years-old, dressing as a woman for a Halloween party, getting tipsy and then making out with a guy on a couch in the basement.

Cashing my first paycheck at 22-years-old and then, next thing I know I had bought  a pretty black dress with a white collar, pleated skirt and red bow and the cutest pair of patent leather pumps with a heel and a bow in front.

Feeling confused and anxious when I married.

Being devastated when my wife called me a pervert.

Finding the Internet and communicating with other transgender people.

Shaving my legs for the first time.

Saving $5 a week so I could get a makeup lesson at Vernon’s in Waltham, Massachusetts.

Being ecstatic when my wife showed the least bit of acceptance.

Getting a Jamie Austin makeover – Wow!

Sneaking my clothes out of the house for a business trip.

My first time through a shopping mall in Florida, a black pantsuit, cute shoes and blonde hair.

Working from home one day a week and doing it as a woman.

Memories of laying in bed sleepless and remembering...


Tiffany Coyne
Let’s Make A Deal’s Tiffany Coyne

Femulating in the 2006 British short Private Life.

Monday, July 11, 2022

Monday

I have been going to the hospital every day to spend the afternoons with my wife, so my blogging, emailing and femulating have suffered as a result. I thought about going out en femme after I return home from my visits, but by then I am ready to crash and don’t dress pretty.

If any opportunities to go out en femme arise this week (and I am not ready to crash), I will dress pretty and go out.  

And so it goes.

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Friday, July 8, 2022

What I should've done...

Almost out en femme
After grocery shopping Thursday morning, I continued my quest to pare down the size of my wardrobe. Makeup, wig, bra, girdle and thigh-highs on, I tried on dresses from the deep, dark reaches of my closet. 

Good news: Everything I tried on fit. Lots of it I had only worn once and were like new. 

Bad news: I found nothing to add to the discard pile.

I quit around 4 PM, de-feminized and prepared dinner. 

After trying on the first dress (which I thought looked fab on me), instead of trying on more dresses, I should have gone out en femme to the mall to shop and to a restaurant to dine.



Source: Venus
Wearing Venus

Bartek Kasprzykowski
Bartek Kasprzykowski imitating Eugeniusz Bodo femulating Mae West on Polish television’s Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.