Wearing Elisabetta Franchi |
Charles Hawtrey and Albert Burton femulating in the 1940 British film Jail Birds. |
Did you know that Cape Cod’s Provincetown Harbor is where the Pilgrims initially anchored the Mayflower in 1620 after their ocean voyage from England? (Provincetown is the site of Fantasia Fair, the longest-running transgender event of its kind in the New World.)
A lot of the time, being trans is not easy, but I am thankful that I am trans. It sure makes life interesting and some days are just wonderful beyond compare, for example, the day I described in the following post from March 2013.
Friday, I attended the True Colors Conference at the campus of my alma mater, the University of Connecticut.
I dressed en femme and thought I looked pretty good for someone who passed the 60-year mile marker two years ago (photo right). Usually, I am hypercritical of my presentation and always find something wrong, but Friday I thought I looked as good as I get. (And it always amazes me how much younger I look in girl mode than I do in boy mode!)
I switched to flats to drive to Storrs, parked my car in the parking garage near my old dormitory and kept my flats on to walk to the Student Union.
In past years attending the Conference, I parked in a different garage on the opposite side of the Student Union, so this was the first time since I graduated in 1973 that I walked the walk that I took everyday between my dorm and the classroom buildings. It was nostalgic, but my how things had changed!
Across the street from Memorial Stadium was a huge field, about 12 acres in size that provided a beautiful view of the rolling hills to the east. Most days after classes, my dorm mates and I would play softball or touch football in that field.
Today, that field is occupied by five buildings constructed after I graduated. The view and my old playing field are long gone. I wondered where my old dorm mates have gone and I wondered what they would think if they could see me now.
I entered the Student Union and encountered throngs of GLBT youth, who were enjoying their day. I stopped by the Information table to greet my old friend Robin who was staffing it. A woman, who I did not recognize was also staffing the table, but she recognized me and greeted me like we were old friends.
I played along and said it was great to see her, then I continued on my way to the support group’s table which I was scheduled to staff from 10 AM to 2 PM. I was 10 minutes late, but another friend, Kelly was holding down the fort until I arrived.
At the Information table, I encountered Fantasia Fair friend, Liz, who escorted me to the presenter’s table where I signed in and received my presentation packet. Then I returned to the support group’s table to relieve Kelly, who left to join her parents who were staffing the PFLAG table.
Youths and adults came by the table, but mostly youths who were attracted by our bait - a variety of candy. Since the name of the support group (Connecticut Outreach Society) reveals nothing about the organization, people asked and that gave me a chance to tell them about being trans rather than give them details about the group since it is only open to adults. At one point, I had eight youths surrounding the table listening to me talk about being trans and answering all of their questions on the subject.
The woman behind the curtain at True Colors, Robin McHaelen, stopped by and gave me a big hug (we go back a few years now) and said something to the effect that I looked great. I also received compliments from youths and other adults throughout the day.
Everyone I encountered seemed to accept me, either as a woman or as trans. I was never referred to as a male; it was always “she,” “her,” “Ma’am” or “Miss.”
A number of times, kids and adults came up to the booth and when I began my Transgender 101 spiel, I could see their expression change as they tried to figure me out. It was very interesting.
Karen, another Fantasia Fair friend arrived to staff the table and give me a break. So I took the time to visit the ladies’ room. On the way to that room, I passed the Information table and the mystery woman beckoned me to sit down and chat.
It turns out that the mystery woman was Jila, who had given me the works at her spa three years ago. I did not recognize her because I had only seen her that one day in March 2010, but she recognized me, probably because my image was on her spa’s website and because she reads this blog.
We caught up on our good times and bad and then I asked her about my voice. I had been using my femme voice from the get-go, but caught myself returning to my boy voice when I stopped concentrating on using my femme voice.
Jila critiqued my femme voice. Her main complaint was that my voice tended to drop into boy mode as I concluded whatever I was saying. She worked with me on it and suggested that I let myself go especially with regards to gesturing with my hands as I talked.
I practiced with Jila’s guidance and in no time, things were clicking and I suddenly felt a wave of femininity flow over me like I never felt before. Wow!
I concentrated on my voice the rest of the day. At times, I fell back into boy mode, but I think I made a lot of progress. Thank you, Jila!
I ran into other friends during the day including Krista, Lee Ann and my life coach, Holly. I chatted with Holly until it was time to get ready for my presentation: “Femulate: The Art of Becoming Womanly.”
My presentation was in a conference room in the Women’s Center, rather than in a classroom. The room had a lot of comfy chairs as well as folding chairs, so it was a little cozier than classroom. And instead of standing in back of a podium, I was just standing or sitting out in the open, which probably made everything a little more intimate.
A small, but enthusiastic group of about ten showed up and I began. I worked through an updated version of my “top 30 things every crossdressing man needs in his wardrobe to emulate a woman” in about half the session. At the beginning, I told the group to interrupt me at anytime to ask questions and they took me up on my offer.
After my top 30 things, I took more questions related to the top 30 or anything else anyone wanted to ask. I gave long rambling answers that entertained (I got a few laughs) and informed (at least that is what the oral and written comments indicated).
Some of the questions I recall were:
Do you ever dress in men’s clothing?
How out are you to your family?
Where can you buy shoes in larger sizes?
Tell us about any negative reactions you have had when out in public?
We ran out of time and I received a round of applause and some thank-you’s.
After the presentation, a woman came up to speak with me. She is involved with two youth groups in Western Massachusetts and wondered if I would be interested in talking to her groups because I would be a “wonderful role model.” I indicated that I would be happy to do it and will wait for her to contact me to work something out.
I returned to the support group table to meet up with my friend Diana and we decided to stop at Rein’s Deli for dinner. Although her car was in the north garage and mine in the south garage, we managed to show up at the deli 15 miles away at exactly the same time!
It was 5 PM and the deli was busy, but nobody seemed to pay much attention to us except when I waited at the register to pay the bill. Diana noticed a very senior lady who seemed to be awestruck by me. I guess she never saw an Amazon before.
After the long day, I was surprisingly not tired. I was energized by the day.
Mid-afternoon, I was walking through the Student Union and passed by a group of a half-dozen teens, who were dressed rather plainly unlike a lot of the other youths at the conference who wore every color of the rainbow (often all at the same time)!
The biggest male in the group politely stopped me. (I assumed he was male, but I could be in error because there was a lot of gender-blurring at the conference.) Anyway, I asked the boy what he wanted and he replied that he wanted a hug.
I gave him a big hug.
Now I hugged friends and acquaintances throughout the day, but this hug with a stranger was the most important hug of the day.
Wearing Madeleine |
Femulating bride Sierra and her femulating maid of honor Alana |
Last week was Transgender Awareness Week. I missed it. My wife’s four medical appointments and medical emergency overrode Trans Awareness.
The GLAAD Trans Awareness Week webpage states that the Week is intended “to help raise the visibility about transgender people and address issues members of the community face.”
Over the years, I think I have done my share of making civilians aware of transgender people. It was actually kind of easy once I overcame my fear of mixing it up with civilians. Once I found out that I had nothing to fear except fear itself, I loved going out and finding new venues in which to strut my stuff as a woman, trans or otherwise.
It was “easy” because almost all of my friends and acquaintances, who knew the male me accepted the female me.
My former co-workers knew the male me long before they were introduced to the female me and things did not change when they were made aware that I was trans; I was the same old Stan, but with an improved fashion sense.
Strangers were almost as easy. I assumed that I passed some of the time because no one pays much attention to old women like me, so old transwomen can fly under the radar and not be closely scrutinized.
On the other hand, I also assumed that some civilians suspected that I was a trans, but they did not make an issue of it. The worst experience was the use of wrong pronouns, but I can live with that especially in the cases when the person using the wrong pronoun corrected himself/herself.
Doing outreach at colleges and universities was different because going in, the students knew we were trans, so there was no fooling them. On the other hand, I think we probably enlightened some of the students. How many of them expected over-the-top drag queens to show up and were surprised when we appeared looking just like other civilians?
Awareness, indeed!
Caveat Emptor: This is an edited repost.
Wearing Alice + Olivia |
Phillippe Nicaud (left) femulating in the 1959 French film Come Dance With Me. |
Wearing Fashion Bug |
Some of my favorite moments are when I am clothes shopping. And one of my favorite place to shop was the dearly departed Fashion Bug.
My wife loved Fashion Bug and I usually tagged along in husband mode when she shopped. Feigning boredom, I would peruse the racks and if I found anything to my liking, I would ask my wife to add it to her pile and I would try it on when we got home. Nice thing about Fashion Bug was that their sizes were consistent, so if I found something in my size, I was sure that it would fit when I tried it on at home.
Eventually, I stopped feigning boredom and perused the racks as if I belonged and had my own pile to take to the cashier.
I never shopped en femme in Fashion Bug with my wife so as not to embarrass her, but going by my shopping history, the sales reps may have known better. One time, shopping with my wife, she found something to buy and at the check-out, the sale rep asked my wife if she would like to sign-up to be a model for an in-store fashion show. As an incentive, you got to keep one of the outfits you modeled.
I encouraged my wife, but she didn’t want to do it. With a straight face, I asked if I could sign-up instead and with a straight face, the sales rep said I could. I was joking and told the sales rep so, but later I regretted it and should have signed up.
As time passed by, I became bolder and started trying on my finds in out-of-town stores in boy mode and usually, the sales reps were agreeable. But one time, while shopping in an out-of-town Fashion Bug, I asked the sales rep if I could try on a dress I found.
She became flustered, hesitated, and then asked me if I wanted to try it on in the ladies’ dressing room – as if I had a choice – Fashion Bug only had ladies’ dressing rooms. I affirmed that I wanted to try it on, so the sales rep relented, checked the dressing rooms to make sure no other women were using them and when she was sure it was all clear, she let me in.
On subsequent visits to that store in boy mode, the sales rep was very accommodating and always asked me if I needed a dressing room. I assumed that my earlier purchase proved to her that I was a paying customer and not a weirdo.
When I finally visited that store en femme, the sales rep was clueless. I spent about a half hour browsing through the store. I really wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but I did find some clip-on earrings that I liked and purchased.
At check-out, I used my Fashion Bug credit card and the sales rep asked for additional identification. I figured that when I handed her my driver’s license the jig would be up.
I handed her my driver’s license. She looked at it, then asked, “Is this your husband?”
“No, that's me,” I replied.
She finally realized reality and burst out, “Oh my, God, you look fantastic!”
“Thank-you,” I said.
As she was checking me out, she added, “You know, we have other male customers who dress as women and I spot them right away, but I never would have guessed you were a guy! You not only look like a woman – you move like a woman, you talk like a woman, you act like a woman – you’re all-woman!”
With that, my high heels never touched the ground as I walked on air out of the store and drove home.
I miss Fashion Bug!
Wearing Venus |
Male modeling the Denis Gagnon Fall Collection |
I wear clip-on earrings, but they are getting harder to find. Avon stopped selling them and last time I visited the mall shopping for them, I came home empty-handed.
A few days ago, while placing another Amazon order, I thought that since Amazon sells just about everything, maybe they sell clip-on earrings, too. A quick search revealed that they do sell clip-ons and I ordered two sets (these* and those*).
They arrived today and I am happy with y purchase. A nice feature is that unlike the clip-ons I already owned, the clips on these are tiny and look like pierced earrings.
👠👠ðŸ‘
I was very surprised to learn that Virgin Atlantic Airways announced updates to its gender identity policy that include allowing staff to wear gender pronoun badges and eliminating the gendered uniform requirement. Now, Virgin staff can select which uniform they want to wear. (Source: LGBTQNation)
To add icing on the cake, Virgin Atlantic job applications doubled after they allowed women to wear pants and men to wear skirts. (Source: LGBTQNation)
Wow! I think I would feel very comfortable flying en femme on Virgin Atlantic!
👠👠ðŸ‘
My good friend Ann Onymous, commenting on yesterday’s post, wrote, “We need a photo of Stana in the dress...”
A photo of me wearing the Venus cocktail dress appears to the above right. I was a little hesitant publishing it because after viewing it, I thought it would look better if I was wearing dark sheer hosiery rather than the black opaque tights.
And so it goes.
* These links go to Amazon.
Wearing Boston Proper |
Virgin Atlantic flight attendants wearing his/her uniforms. You can view Virgin Atlantic’s short video introducing the new uniform policy on YouTube. |