At Work En Femme

Paula Gaikowski commented so positively about a photo of me on flickr depicting my first Halloween en femme at work that I decided to recount that day here today.

Halloween is “National Crossdresser’s Day,” so they say. I guess there is some truth in that because my first public crossdressed outing was on Halloween and I know many other crossdressers also poked their bewigged heads out of the closet for the first time on October 31. And over the years, I have continued to crossdress on Halloween attending parties given by friends and my support group. But, this year was different.

One week before Halloween, my company announced that they were sponsoring a day of Halloween events including a costume contest. In all my years of being gainfully employed, no employer of mine had ever sanctioned wearing costumes to work on Halloween.

I know some of you have gone to work en femme on Halloween and I often considered it, but I never had the nerve to do it. However, in the year 2000, I could go to work en femme with the blessing of the boss! T’was a crossdresser’s dream-come-true.

There was no doubt that my costume would be en femme, but how en femme was the question. I considered my options and decided to dress appropriately for my workplace, which is an office. My costume would be “office girl drag.”

I had a plenty of outfits that qualified as office girl drag, so I went through my stash to decide what to wear. I narrowed my choices down to three outfits. To make the final decision, I slipped into my unmentionables and modeled each outfit for my wife. She and I agreed that the black print, short-sleeved, knee-length sheath looked best. To round out the ensemble, I chose tan pantyhose and a pair of black patent pumps with 3-1/2-inch spike heels.

The night before Halloween, I prepared for the next day. I depilated, combed out my wig, and laid everything out so I could get ready as quickly as possible Halloween morning. I turned in early because I had set the alarm clock for 4:45 AM to give me enough time to depart for work at 7:15 fully made-up and dressed. However, turning in early did no good because I was so excited I had a hard time falling asleep. It was after 2 AM before I finally nodded off and I woke up 15 minutes before the alarm clock was set.

I got up, shaved, showered, and applied my makeup. For a change, I had no makeup disasters and was finished by 6:15. I put on my undies, dress, shoes, and wig, then I checked myself out in a full-length mirror. Was that Nicole Kidman’s reflection in the mirror? Not quite, but when I squinted real hard, I thought I saw Nicole Kidman’s mother.

Last thing to do was my nails. I applied press-on nails to my pinky and ring fingers, then I had an incredibly hard time applying the nails to my middle fingers. None of the press-ons fit quite right and adding glue did not make a difference. Time was running out, so I decided to forgo the nails. After removing the press-ons from my pinky and ring fingers, I grabbed my purse and hit the road.

The commute was uneventful and I arrived at work 15 minutes early. I exited my car and walked to the main entrance enjoying the feminine beat of my heels clicking on the sidewalk.

Inside, the first people I encountered were our receptionist and a woman from Human Resources. At first, neither of them recognized me. Then, they both recognized me and started gushing over my costume. So far, so good.

I went upstairs to my cubicle. Since I was early, there was no one around to see me, so I went to the cubicle of one of my best friends at work (she is one of the few people who gets to work earlier than I}. I stuck my head around the corner of her cubicle and said, “Trick or treat.” She was floored!

After she regained her composure, she began calling me “Stella” and insisted on escorting me to the cubicles where other early birds were already at work. Our first stop was her boss, who had been with the company about six months. I don’t work directly with him, but he is only three cubicles away from me and we cross each other’s paths each day.

My friend pushed me into his cubicle and he had no clue. At first, he thought I was a new female employee, but my friend blew my cover, “Don’t you recognize him?” He didn’t until I explained that I was the guy three cubicles away.

And that was the way it went all day long. A tall woman in a Halloween costume environment is a dead giveaway. As a result, the majority read me as a man in drag, but did not know which man until I showed them my mug shot on my security card. On the other hand, a minority did not read me at all including some folks that I work with on a regular basis.

By mid-morning, the word was out that there was a guy in drag upstairs and a procession of onlookers began marching up to my cubicle to check me out. (No other guys appeared in drag. In fact, only a handful of guys wore costumes at all. On the other hand, the woman had a lot more Halloween spirit and approximately 1 out of 4 women appeared in costume.)

In general, women loved my costume. Some were amazed that I shaved my legs and my arms. Others complimented me on my makeup and some asked, “Did your wife do your makeup?”

“No, I did it myself,” I responded, which caused even more amazement.

A few remarked that I should quit my job and become a professional female impersonator! One woman said, “You made my day,” and she returned to my cubicle three times with two or three new onlookers in tow each time. A pretty administrator remarked, “You look better than most women I know.”

I don’t think I fooled everyone. A few women gave me knowing looks, like they knew I looked too good to have only done this once. But, I didn’t mind.

On the male side, the majority appreciated my costume, but there were two or three who seemed to be phobic about it, typical macho twaddle, I guess.

Shortly after getting to work, my pantyhose began running like crazy! I don’t know if they were defective or I was careless, but by 10 AM, I had three runs that were getting bigger by the minute. I wanted to look my best, so I left the building for a few minutes and drove to a nearby CVS to buy a new pair.

Now, this is the scary part because CVS was not having a Halloween costume contest. I parked the car and walked into CVS passing a handful of people who paid me no mind. I entered the store and to avoid causing a commotion, I went to the first salesgirl I saw and explained that I ran the pantyhose of my Halloween costume and needed a new pair.

“Hosiery is in aisle eight, Ma’am,” she replied, unfazed by my Halloween costume hint.

I guess I was not going to cause a commotion, so I went to aisle eight, picked out a pair, then I went to the register where the same salesgirl rang me up without a clue.

Now, here is the amazing part. I never used a femme voice. I spoke in my normal male voice, which is admittedly soft-spoken, but definitely male. I guess the salesgirl’s eyes convinced her that I was a woman no matter what clues her ears might be picking up. (I had read about this phenomenon, but did not believe it until I actually experienced it.)

I returned to my office and waited for the results of the costume contest. A lot of people said they would vote for me and I guess they did because I won. I thought there were three or four costumes that were better than mine, but I guess having the guts to wear the costume I wore was that little extra that pushed me over the top.

I feel a little guilty about that because it did not take any guts to do what I did. This was something I wanted to do for a very long time. I also felt like I cheated a little because this wasn’t a costume I put together overnight. I’ve had practice dressing like this for years.

I’ll admit that I did have some qualms about possibly losing the respect of some of my colleagues. But when I thought about it, if somebody lost respect for me because I crossdressed on Halloween, then I don’t want their respect. So, qualms be damned! Tighten that corset as tight as you can. Today you are a woman!

I made one fashion blunder: my choice of footwear. I had not worn that particular pair of high heels in such a long time that I had forgotten why I stopped wearing them – because they hurt a lot in a very short time! I have other pumps with the same heel height and even higher that don’t hurt like that pair did. The only saving grace is that I did not have to get up and walk around too much. I could just sit at my desk and pose for my admirers whenever they showed up.

However, I regret that I did not wear more comfortable shoes because I wanted to go to the mall, have lunch at the food court, and do some window-shopping. But by noon, my feet were so hobbled that walking around the mall would have been very ugly.

I also had a fashion revelation. Wearing a tight corset all day was quite painless. The corset did inhibit movement, but it did not cause any aches or pains (like my shoes and clip-on earrings), while improving my figure immeasurably.

I had the time of my life. I wished the day would never end, but it did and now I have a lot of wonderful memories about my first day at work en femme.

In retrospect, that first Halloween en femme at work gave me a lot of confidence about appearing among civilians en femme. So much so, that I did not think twice about going to work en femme five years in a row even though the company was not celebrating Halloween with a costume contest.

Wearing New York & Company

As a 17-year-old transvestite-in-training, The Queen blew my mind upon its release in 1968. Here was a film about a womanless beauty pageant at a time when any information about crossdressing was very difficult to find, leaving girls like me who lived out in the boonies to wonder if we were all alone in the world. The Queen indicated otherwise.

Someday Funnies: Trans Tradition

Wearing Bailey44

Charles Hawtrey femulating in the 1969 British film Carry On Again Doctor.

A Woman in Pants

On Monday, Hannah, one of my favorite bloggers, wrote, “When we are en femme, I believe we become a different person.”

In response, I say, “It depends.”

There are femulators, who for legitimate reasons compartmentalize their male life and their female life. So much so that when they are en femme, they do become a different person. I propose that this is probably the case with most femulators.

Then there are femulators like me. 

As I have written here in the past, I am a feminine guy... always was. However, for the first half of my life, I did not know it and was confused by the abuse I received from my peers for being so. Boys called me names like “sissy,” “fairy,” “faggot,” etc.

This was not just a case of bullies using random offensive names to raise my ire. Even a few of my friends told me that I was not acting like a boy at a 100% level and that I should do something about it.

I wondered if there was something in my mannerisms or speech that caused their reaction. I was not intentionally acting or speaking in an affected manner. Rather, I was speaking and acting in my natural manner, which I did not feel was feminine.

The fact that even friends told me that something was amiss indicated that something really was amiss, but I was clueless. I had no idea what I had to do differently to be more boy-like. So, I continued acting the same way I always acted and if someone called me a name, I’d hit them with my purse.

However, as I became more involved with crossdressing, I finally realized that I was indeed feminine and that crossdressing was a perfect fit for my feminine personality. 

This was not just self-deception. 

I will never forget a friend of mine at a Halloween party telling me that he never realized how feminine my speaking and mannerisms were until he saw me dressed as a woman. He indicated that my female costume was a perfect fit for my normal mannerisms and speech.

After mentioning this story at outreach one time, one of the students confirmed that my mannerisms were feminine and that my friends and acquaintances had been right on the mark in their estimation of me. That I was a woman in pants, a girl in boy’s clothing. And when I crossdressed, I did not become a different person; rather I adjusted my wardrobe to conform with my feminine self.

South Korean singing group Brown Eyed Girls created this video for their song “Wonder Woman.” The video is gender role reversal personified with boys dressed as brides and women dressed as grooms. You can view the video on YouTube.

Someday Funnies: Too Tall to Pass

Wearing New York & Company

A womanless bridal party – I believe that all of the members of the bridal party are femulators, but a non-femulator might have snuck in there.

Feeling Pretty and Gender Euphoria

By Paula Gaikowski

Here’s a paragraph from one my first articles on Femulate, “Frequent Flier.”

“I let the warm water of the shower melt away any uncertainty. The feminine scent of the shaving cream and the unveiled smoothness of my legs quiet me. I feel her take hold inside me. I dry myself off, then spray on some perfume, I breath the fragrance in, the scent is satisfying, almost like a drug. I feel it trigger certain parts of my brain as if they were dormant, but now are called to life, they burst forward igniting senses and desires no longer forced hidden.”

Gender euphoria is the emotional state of happiness and comfort that happens when our gender expression is aligned with our identity. I identify as a woman, ever since I can remember. My path in life has always been clouded with this conundrum. 

One of those metaphorical clouds has been the overpowering need to crossdress and along with it, joy and sensual pleasure. Yes, shaving my legs, wearing perfume, makeup, pantyhose and lingerie made me feel pretty, feminine and even sexy. The gatekeepers of the 80’s and 90’s held that this was proof of a fetish; I was made to feel that this deeply held feelings was nothing more than a kink or worse a perversion. Transgender women seeking transition learned to deny and hide these feelings. 

I’ve always believed that cisgender women also find pleasure in feeling feminine and pretty. I went to a sub on Reditt named askwomen. All I did was search the sub for “feeling pretty,”“feeling feminine” and “feeling sexy.”

The results were eye-opening. Essentially cisgender women have very much the same emotional response that we do when it comes to wearing lingerie, shaving, wearing make-up and perfume. It brings them joy, they feel pretty, feminine, girly and sexy. I’ve included a sample of responses from scores of women. I feel vindicated and validated that my needs and desires are very much like any other woman. 

“Matching underwear. Sometimes putting on a cute bra and matching panties makes me feel like a million bucks.”

“I think I often feel super pretty after I’ve taken a long shower (washed my hair, shaved legs and put on my favorite lipstick.”

“I personally get anxiety attacks after shower because of how ugly I look with wet hair. I look like a man”

“I love to dress up and do my make up together with my friends”

“Playing dress-up is great too, I like to put on my clothes and try to make new outfits. Sometimes I'll dress up nice and just go to the grocery store, although you have to be careful with that otherwise you feel kind of overdressed and self-conscious.”

“I like to dress in a very feminine style with dresses, makeup, and high heels. Ever since the start of the pandemic still I like to put on makeup and dress nicely just so I can feel pretty about myself even if I spend the entire day stuck in my house.”

“I wear my fav lace lingerie under my regular clothes..idk why but lingerie always improves my low self esteem.  It’s the best feeling honestly.” 

“I do this too (Wear lace lingerie), because then at the end of the day when I get undressed it’s like “Ah, there’s the real me!”

“Have my nails/toenails painted all the time”

“To feel pretty and feminine the, first one is definitely wearing heels. I also love to curl my hair, wear a sexy but comfy dress. lipstick is also really important to me”

“Shower, shave, moisturize, cute outfit (ideally a colorful dress and tights), well-blended glamorous eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, bold lipstick, lovely perfume, go out and smile at passersby.”

“Matching underwear. Never underestimate how sexy and beautiful you'll feel when you have a cute bra on and panties that match. I only buy bras that are a part of a matching set and have another few pairs of panties that match/go with that bra.”

“When I feel down and not so pretty, I'll take hours to get ready. Take a long bath, shave, put on nice underwear and some of my favorite clothes, curl my hair or do an elaborate up-do, and then do my make up.”

Wearing Venus

Modern Male and Female

Someday Funnies: Happy New You!

Wearing Samantha Sung

Womanless beauty pageant contestant Lucky 13

Someday Funnies: Happy New Year!

Wearing Wig.com

Phillippe Nicaud femulating in the 1959 French film Come Dance With Me.

Regarding My “Christmas Eve Surprise” Post

Regarding my “Christmas Eve Surprise” post, it is a true story until you get to the part where I finally decide to attend my family’s Christmas Eve dinner en femme.

Believe me, I thought about it. When would I have the opportunity to come out to my whole family again? Especially since I believe that the 2022 reunion was a one-time event. But there was no way that I could pull it off with my current health. 

My left knee is worse than ever. Walking is painful even wearing male footwear. Walking in high heels is impossible. To fix the problem, I will have knee replacement surgery at the end of January. So wish me well.

Regarding the fictional part of my “Christmas Eve Surprise” post, it may not be so fictional. Cousin “Jack” is based on a cousin whose father was known to dress pretty on occasion. And I actually witnessed my cousin “Jack” as a tween modeling various discarded dance school recital outfits that had been worn previously by two female cousins. As they say, the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree, so you never know!

Wearing Venus

Pretty femulator out and about

Someday Funnies: December Bride

Wearing Venus

Paulette is hoping your Christmas is a happy one and the New Year is prosperous and peaceful.

Lena sends her holiday wishes from Down Under.

Christmas Eve Surprise

Growing up, my father’s family gathered at his sisters’/my aunts’ home for Christmas Eve dinner. With eight uncles and aunts and their children/my cousins and as time passed, my cousins’ children, it was quite a crowd. 

It was always a fun reunion, but it came to an abrupt end about 20 years ago when my aging aunts threw in the towel. It was more than they could handle as they approached their eighties. 

During the ensuing years, my parents and most of my uncles and aunts died. Meanwhile, many of my cousins moved out of state. There was talk of organizing Christmas Eve reunions, but nothing ever came of it. 

However, in the past few years, my out-of-state cousins moved back to Connecticut and around Thanksgiving, my cousin Jack phoned me wondering if I’d help him organize a Christmas Eve reunion to be held at my surviving aunt’s home – just like the good old days. My aunt would not have to lift a finger; her nieces and nephews would put it all together. So I marked my calendar for a Christmas Eve reunion and did my part. 

Although I was close to most of my cousins, none of them knew about Stana. I had not come out to that side of my family and was hesitant to do so because I was the oldest cousin. By default, my cousins looked up to me and I did not want to ruin their image of me... the oldest and more importantly, male cousin.

Coming out to them was on my to-do list and the reunion would provide an opportunity to come out to them all at once. I considered how well coming out to my co-workers had gone even though they were used to knowing my male side for nearly a quarter century. I thought that maybe my family would be just as accepting: it is just old cousin Stan with a greatly improved fashion sense. I thought about it for a few days and decided to do it if my wife was okay with it. 

After 40 years of marriage to a femulator, my wife had seen it all and my Christmas Eve coming out idea was like water off a duck’s back. She said go for it and now came the hard part: deciding what to wear.

Since no one at the reunion had ever seen me en femme, I could wear anything from my vast wardrobe and it would be new to them. But I wanted to wear something I had never wore out before, so that narrowed the selection to about 20 dresses. Considering the frigid weather forecast for Christmas Eve, that eliminated all my short sleeve and sleeveless dresses, so the pickings got slimmer.

I finally settled on a turquoise three-quarter sleeve peplum dress that I purchased from Avon years ago, but had never worn because it was too tight. Now that I was 30 pounds slimmer, it was a perfect fit. I accessorized with my snakeskin Nine West four-inch high heels pearl jewelry. To top it off, I wore my three-quarter-length lynx fake fur from Lane Bryant. I thought I looked very presentable for my unveiling.

My wife and I got in the Subaru and I drove across town to my aunt’s home. Arriving at my aunt’s, I noticed all the vehicles parked in her driveway and on the street in from of her home. I assumed everyone had already arrived, so I would have a big audience for my grand entrance.

We exited my car and walked the short walk up the handicapped ramp to my aunt’s front door, rang the doorbell and someone opened the door to let us in. My wife entered first with me right behind with a nervous smile pasted on my face.

The front room was crowded with aunts, cousins and their kids and as I entered, I heard my cousin Sandra say, “Holy s**t!” Always the sharpest pencil in the box, Sandra recognized me immediately, but it took awhile for the others to get a clue. If my wife had not accompanied me, I think a few would have never figured me out.

All eyes were on me and I heard a couple of wows from the crowd and my Aunt Candace remarked, “Stanley, you are beautiful!”

Cousin Billy took our coats and one by one, each cousin congratulated me with handshakes and hugs (from the guys) and air kisses and hugs from the women. 

The children of my cousins remained clueless. I might have seen them briefly on Christmas Eve 20 or more years ago, but except for some family resemblance, they were unrecognizable to me. However, they were polite and accepted me as the lady with an unusual female name (Stanley). 

No one asked me if I used a female name and everyone called me Stanley, Stan, Stash or Stashu, the latter two being Polish nicknames for Stanley.

Cousin Sandra apologized for her earlier exclamation. She admitted that she only reacted that way because I was the second coming out she had to deal with that day. With that, she said, “Let me introduce you to Jacqueline.” With that, she waved over a pretty woman who I assumed was a neighbor, who I did not recognize or know. 

“Hi Jacqueline. Pleased to meet you.”

“Pleased to meet you too, Stana. You probably know me better as your cousin Jack.”

“OMG,” I thought, “My cousin Jack is a crossdresser, too. But how did he know my femme name?”

“I’m a big fan and read your blog everyday,” he remarked, “Your blog helped me come out to the family today.”

Suddenly, I was distracted because my feet felt like they were entangled in something. And they were entangled in something: the skirt of my nightie. So I untangled my feet and fell back to sleep.

Wearing Venus

Eve is reddy for the holidays

Mindy posing in her favorite Christmas dress near the tree.