Get Out!

By Paula Gaikowski

Back in the early 90’s, the “dark ages” before the internet, I found myself connected to a dial-up bulletin board service that supported crossdressers and transexuals. The umbrella term “transgender” had not yet entered the lexicon. What was special and different was the fact that you could download pictures of other girls. This was the first time that I could see and communicate with others like me.

I was awed by how pretty some of them looked and I also was captivated by the fact that they went out in public. The thought that it was possible to be out and seen in public as a woman became an aspiration. It would take years.

Often I’m asked for advice on getting out in public from first timers. It’s funny – I can’t really remember my actual first time, the first few times out all kind of melt together. 

I was spending time in Reston, Virginia, on business and was dressing up in my hotel room, as I had been for years. I started making short trips from the room to my car and then back. Mad dashes, full of fear, that took my breath away.

However, it broke the ice and the evolution began. I became less and less fearful each time I went out. By 2008, it was natural for me to be in public as a woman. I traveled all over the USA, UK, Canada and Australia for business and used this time to go out and about in the world. 

I dressed in business clothes and appeared slightly better dressed then most women. I feel it’s important to blend in, not stick out and to dress age-appropriate. I never thought that I could go to malls, get makeovers at MAC, visit the doctor, dine out, and enjoy museums. Over the years, I lost weight, improved my wardrobe and developed my makeup skills. I became very confident and happy with my presentation as a woman. 

Many girls are fearful of what the public will think and how they will react. I have many friends who have been going out and about for years and we have all had the same experiences and reactions.

People either don’t notice you or sometimes you pass and sometimes you don’t. And if you don’t pass, most people are fascinated and supportive. I’ve never had a person call me a name or insult me in anyway. I remember it became such a non-event that I would often look for a reaction or input from hotel clerks or sales associates. 

I enjoyed shocking them with the transformation, One time, I was checking in as Paul, and at Marriott where they always ask if you are in town for business or pleasure? I responded, “Both – this afternoon I’m meeting a friend and we’re going dress-shopping. She has a wedding to attend”.

“Oh, you’re such a good friend,” she responded, implying that dress-shopping is something that most men didn’t like.

I returned about 90 minutes later as Paula, grabbed a water and asked her to charge it room 410. She typed in the room number and then made the connection to the guy who had checked in.

“Well, how do I look?” I asked. She and the other young women with her responded very positively. They were kind, complementary and cheerful. This was typical of persons I’ve interacted with going out and about.

Going out reminded me of learning to drive a car. When you first get behind the wheel, you are thrilled, look at me, I’m finally driving. I drove to the store, to school, even to the beach! Your hands are tight on the wheel, each turn is a challenge, every intersection daunting. Eventually you get behind the wheel and drive without even thinking about it. 

So much of going out has become second nature to me now. I walk out the hotel room door, smile at the maid, stop at the front desk, etc., without trepidation or anxiety. This self-assurance is contagious to everyone around you. It validates your appearance to them. 

When I visit cosmetic counters, the sales associates seemed to love the diversion of having a transgender customer. We always have great conversations and I always ask them about my appearance. Most often the words I hear are “poised,” “natural” and “classic.”

They say 90% of presentation is attitude and confidence. This takes effort and work. This effort is all part of being a woman. Please remember to enjoy the journey, the practice, the friendships, the accomplishments and even the failures.

I’d love to hear about some of your first times out and about!

Source: WhoWhatWear

A tradition in Southern Germany and Austria, Faschingshochzeit is a “Mardi Gras wedding,” in which the gender roles are reversed with a male bride and female groom. (Thank you Yamini for the tip about Faschingshochzeit.)

Someday Funnies: A Family Tradition

Suzy Parker

Femulating in 1963

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.

Wearing Jonathan Simkhai

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

Someday Funnies

Wearing Valentino

Two boys/gurls with a girl

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

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

Someday Funnies

Wearing Boston Proper

Femulating in a green sequins cocktail dress.

Someday Funnies: You Go Gurl

Wearing Elisabetta Franchi

Femulating in black and white

Someday Funnies: Deer in Headlights

Woman (left), Man (right)?

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...

Let’s Make A Deal’s Tiffany Coyne

Femulating in the 2006 British short Private Life.

Someday Funnies

Wearing Ramy Brook

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.