There were about a half-dozen dresses that I thought had potential to wear again, so I moved them from the attic to my closet.

Thursday was a rainy day, so I decided to try on the dresses I had moved from the attic to see how they fit. Two were in shabby shape and beyond repair, so they went into the trash can. The others were in good shape and looked good on me, so they were keepers.

My favorite keeper was a Styleworks sequins cocktail dress that I only wore it once – to my support group’s 1994 Christmas party. I have no memory of purchasing it. My guess is that it was likely online because I was too closeted in 1994 to go dress shopping en femme or en homme. My how the times have changed!

I guess I have changed too as can be seen the 1994 versus 2020 photo comparison above.

This Brooks Brothers dress is suitable for brothers and sisters alike

Alberto Lionello, Max von Sydow and Renato Pozzetto femulating in the 1977 Italian horror film Gran Bollito (Black Journal). You can view the film’s trailer on YouTube. Thank you, Aunty, for the heads-up regarding this film.

By Carollyn Olson

Even though some states and counties are re-opening in various stages, virtually, due to the pandemic, the world had stopped for many months. For me and my girl friends, there are no more nights on the town, dinner at lovely restaurants, movies, social activities... they have all drawn to a halt. What is a girl to do?

For me, the hiatus, except for a couple of semi-dress-up sessions at home, gave me a chance to reflect on my 40 years of crossdressing and to clear out my wardrobe of items I no longer wear.

I smiled, laughed and cried with joy when looking back on the many times I have dressed as a woman since 1980. I thought of all the wonderful times out and-about on my own or with friends, dinners at well-know establishments, out on the town with the girls and attending the local gala every year. 

I have been blessed to have always been accepted in public and never to have been hassled. I’ve made friends with genetic females, sales associates in major department stores and a couple of bartenders, too. 

I never expected life when dressed as a woman would be so good.

Going through my wardrobe was difficult. There are so many memories mixed in with too many clothing items and pairs of heels. How and when did I compile so many dresses, tops, skirts, etc.? Like my dear friend Tawni, when she went through her collection recently, every “unneeded” item was hard to give away. However, when the boxes were packed and loaded in the car for delivery to the local battered women’s shelter, I had a feeling of joy as I knew my clothes would be helpful to a lady in need. 

Tawni had even a rougher time as I did departing with a small part of her wardrobe during the lockdown in her home town. 

“I first decided to clean the closet!” she told me recently. 

“Dumb me!! That led me to see that I had spread my stuff out throughout the house hidden away here and there like a pack rat or a dog with a bone who buries it and can’t remember where it was. So I cleaned and organized my primary closet and discovered blouses were hidden amongst my drab clothes, shoes hidden everywhere. Shoes, blouses, dresses, skirts, makeup, wigs, foundation support garments. Ee gads! So much stuff!

“I became completely overwhelmed and felt so foolish at some of what I have,” Tawni continued. “A boa jumpsuit? Sheer bodysuit? Goth black velvet dress way to small for me! I broke down in tears that I can’t fit into some of this any longer and that I am getting older. So dividing into Keep and Not to Keep piles was very emotional for me – much more so than with any of my drab clothing.

“I am a wild, mad, rich girl with way too many and much of everything?!? I sorted and sorted and in the end, I could not let go of any of the stockings, pantyhose, corsets, shoes, skirts or blouses. I actually wanted to wear them in that instant and on the spot.

“After a difficult soul-searching and mind-searching day, I only have a very, very small pile of items to let go. I guess I am going to have to live forever and age backwards!”

The following is what some of my other lovely sisters did to cope with COVID-19.

Heidi used her isolation to post a number of educational and fun videos on YouTube while raiding her spouses’ closet. Click here to view her videos.

Teri Lynn wrote, “Well, I miss the monthly local group meetings and had just planned to go to bi-monthly meetings. It would have been double the fun. I also miss going out in Teri-mode to shop for clothes as I don't buy what I can’t try on. Going out and wearing a mask defeats the purpose of makeup to look nice? So if I have to wear a mask, I'm not going out.”

Stephanie said, “I stocked up on good books, enjoyed the company of housemates (for me, it’s my wife and three 20-something daughters), supported local restaurants with take-out food, didn't get too caught up on the non-essential things (including dressing opportunities) and living in a small town, there’s less temptation to go out and fewer people when you do!”

Silke (who lives en femme about 20/7, not 24/7) wrote, “The first thing that came to my mind is a wider opportunity to dress since I have been confined to my home office for work. I now wear more women's clothes than ever before and do so daily! Unless one has to attend a video conference and appear visually, no one cares what clothing one is wearing on the job at home. For example, my wife is a freelancer and while I am engaged in her business, I usually wear women’s clothes so her ‘personal secretary’ is ready when called. I wonder if it will make a difference for a crossdresser, who returns to usual office work after the pandemic – might she (he) stick to wearing women's clothing?

“We were under a limited lockdown, which means that walks outside are permitted, but only a few people are out and about. When my spouse and I were out and about recently, I wore pumps, tan nylons, women’s leggings, unisex sweatshirt and a tightly cut women’s jacket. Handbag, of course! Plus my long natural curls! The very few people that crossed our paths could care less what I was wearing and of which gender I am. And if they do – oh well, then let ‘em!”

Lucy said, “Every time I tell people all the projects I am getting done and how I have been making the best of a really bad situation, people get upset with me. Like I’m somehow enjoying this crisis and having too much fun?

“I live on a small forested farm in the country and I have been working for 33 years. Since I am finally retired and because of the virus, I am getting huge projects done that my spouse and I have wanted to do for 33 years! Everything from cleaning out and organizing all of Lucy’s closets and drawers, to learning how to use a sewing machine, to converting a spare bedroom into a huge walk-in closet for my wife, completely rebuilding our central vacuum cleaner and house water softener, cutting down trees and pruning bushes. I also learned how to use a box grader attachment for my tractor to level out all the gravel roads that have become severely rutted over the years due to gophers and water run off. So, yes, it is exhausting to even think about all the things I have already done and have yet to do. But it is so gratifying! I am coping with COVID by immersing myself in big projects that I otherwise would never have had the time.”

“I have to admit, one of the big reasons I retired at age 62 was that I had a really close friend, who was younger than I, who got pancreatic cancer out of nowhere and died three months later. This had a big effect on me. I really had no plans to retire, but my friend’s story really brought home to me that no one lives forever. One can’t predict how long you have and no one on their deathbed says, ‘I only wish I had worked more.’ So I thought long and hard and decided that I needed to retire, while my spouse and I are still reasonably healthy and active, so we could actually do the things we want to do. My wife encouraged me to retire despite being at the top of my career, at least in terms of earning potential. So I did. Now, I’m not going to waste a minute of whatever time I have left.”

The loss of thousands upon thousands of people worldwide to the virus has been devastating and the continued emphasis to “stay safe” and to follow the rules established by local authorities is a must. If you are required to wear a face mask, please do so. By protecting yourself and others, and with regular prayer, we can beat this terrible invisible disease.

Wearing New York & Company

Christian De Sica (center) and Massimo Boldi (right) party with other femulators in the 1992 Italian film Anni 90. You can view the femulation on YouTube.

Perhaps the most quintessential part of a woman’s wardrobe is at the bottom, where her shoes live – especially if they are the high-heeled variety. I read somewhere that said items were invented by the vertically-challenged Catherine the Great to lord it over taller court rivals*. But whatever their origin, I am pretty sure they were not designed for comfort. Yet millions of women still don them at times in preference to something more practical (nowadays without eyebrows being raised as a result), for it is fairly likely they know it is a quick-fix means of looking elegant and feeling gloriously ladylike. 

Despite the trial presented, many appear able to strut about in them the way a duck takes to water. Yet even the most agile can (metaphorically and physically) get too close to the sun when they reach for the sky. With the result that they look in dire need of the nearest toilets!

Many things have come easily to me in life (and if not, then I made it someone else’s problem), one being able to wear high heels without effort when I came out the closet in my late 30’s. I could pose in imposing ones for a drag revue I produced plus spend all night on the local transvestite scene in them with no problem. I once even walked several miles home afterwards in some. 

Despite that, I eventually realized said scene wasn’t meeting my aspirations (that’s another story). So I “retired” for several years and put on several stone. I then relocated to a place of my own, and shifted a fair bit of blubber in the process. So took advantage of that to try out my old femme gear again. Fortunately the more-forgiving garments didn’t make me look like a sack of potatoes, but every pair of shoes gave both my feet and Achilles tendons a hard time.

Regardless, overall results were encouraging enough to rejoin the scene as the next step in my rehabilitation process. So I wore a different pair of approximately 3-inch heels whenever I went out in the expectation I would get used to them as the evening wore on. I realized I was rusty as well as older and heavier, but saw it akin to “riding a bike.” However, it soon became clear the natural ability I once possessed had now deserted me. 

So I then took several pairs out with me and when those I wore became insufferable, I would kick them off with great relief before stepping into a more comfortable pair. Yet despite that, I would still end up in stockinged feet thanks to the discomfort. The final straw was doing a gig while dressed and having to keep perching on a stool to give my complaining calves some much-needed relief.

Therefore, I realized that something else had to be done to reach the dizzy heights of yore. Initially, I solved the problem by acquiring some shoes with a 1½-inch kitten heel. They were manageable, but I felt that I was not only cheating, but envious of my peers prancing about in ones at least twice as high. So I finally bit the bullet and realized that for once in my life, I would have to put in some hard work.

When Olympic champion Jessica Ennis came back to athletics after a break, I read things were not going according to plan due to similar problems. However, that she managed to overcome them to win the world title gave me encouragement in my own battle to triumph against the odds. I also noted that actor Sean Bean prepared for the role of a transvestite by walking around his house in heels on a regular basis. Not an ideal way for an actual crossdresser to tackle the problem, as the thrill might be diminished or even lost in the process. All the same, it was still something to think about. For if one could no longer walk the walk, one would need to take a more down-to-earth approach in order to be less down-to-earth.

So I reluctantly resorted to Mr. Bean's method (Sean’s, that is, not THE Mr Bean!) in the hope that I could overcome my physical and psychological issues. Unlike many, I could wear heels in my home at my leisure, thus, I did so (trying out ever-more daunting ones as time went on) when the mood took me, which was usually while relaxing with a glass of wine or three. Once I got into that habit, I decided to wear some even when not feeling particularly inclined. In that regard, I kept in mind the following experience I had a few years back.

While attending a wedding, I enviously took note of a couple of female peers dancing at the reception in high heels they probably didn't wear any more regularly than I did formal male attire nowadays. I then overheard one say to the other, “My shoes are killing me now!” To which the other responded, “So are mine! But you can’t take them off, can you?” To which they both giggled before carrying on boogieing without apparent concern, as I watched on in my own “shackles” of suit and tie even more wistfully.

So I have kept that regime up for a while now and as a result, have come to view the higher heels in my collection as at least acquaintances, if not friends, as opposed to the intimidating strangers they were before. Sadly, these troubled times dictate that at present, the only convenient place available to test my endeavors in public is my local precinct. Which I have no immediate plans to visit en femme anyway – coronavirus or not!

* I believe that is why court shoes are so-called!

Wearing Boston Proper

Rob Lowe and Paul McCrane femulating as nurses in the 1984 film The Hotel New Hampshire You can view the film’s trailer on YouTube.

Throwback Thursday Dept.

My Attic Finds post received a lot of positive comments, so I will happily offer another then and now comparison of a dress I rescued from the attic – a navy blue sequins number from Ultra Dress. The photo on the left shows me wearing the dress at my support group’s holiday dinner in 1995. The photo on the right shows me 25 pounds lighter wearing the same dress last week.

After taking the photo, I actually threw the dress in the trash because after hanging in the attic for over two decades, the hanger stretched out the dress leaving permanent stretch marks in the shoulders of the dress. 

I had second thoughts a few days later, retrieved the dress from the trash and threw it in the washer to see if a washing would fix the stretch marks. Surprisingly, that corrected the problem and now I have yet another cocktail dress to wear nowhere!

Wearing Coach

Czadoman, Marta Gałuszewska, Filip Gurłacz and Gosia Andrzejewicz (boy, girl, boy, girl) femulating Sister Sledge on Polish television’s Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo. You can view this amazing femulation on YouTube.

By Jeanine Williams

I emailed Stana a few weeks ago after noticing that she featured several Venus items in the Femulate. I told her that I had mixed results with Venus sizing, so she encouraged me to write about it, but mentioned that she was happy with her selections.

I purchased this dress because I love sweater dresses, love the color and felt it was eye-catching, elegant and very feminine. Nevertheless I returned my XL for a 1X because it was too tight in the bust and underarms even though I was already swimming in it below the bodice. My wife, a professional seamstress, told me she can always take something in, so ordering a larger size is better in the long run. She’s altered several things for me, so I count myself lucky to have a spouse who not only approves of and assists me in my femulating endeavors!

Lots and lots of room in the 1X, which she took it in, but there was still way too much fabric to provide the silhouette I was trying to achieve, that the lovely Venus model accomplishes so nicely. That’s the reason for the belt. I didn’t have a briefer or bra that has detachable straps to allow me to use the clear ones I bought for this dress, so please try to overlook that.

The back of the dress is bunched and folded and held in place by the belt, so it does make for a nice look that way and I may still wear it with the belt after the second round of alterations. It is comfortable to wear, although the lace can be a bit scratchy. I would not consider it a quality garment, even though it has the appearance of one. It’s sized from XS to 3X, so Venus accommodates those of us like to wear the nice-looking skirts and dresses that usually stop at size 14 with other retailers.

If I had to change something about this dress it would be to lower or reduce the fabric at the neckline a little. I’ll discuss that a bit more with my comments on the “Glitter Bodycon Dress” that I’m also writing about, but it’s generally appealing as is and I like the hem of my skirts and dresses a few inches above my knees. I hope to wear it out and about in the future, but the verdict isn’t in yet.

I don’t like the higher neckline though and want to see if my wife can reduce or eliminate it and just leave the mesh insert. The other minor issue for me is that the dress gathers at the hem between the legs, which I’d prefer it didn’t, but it’s been designed that way and is part of the look. I’ll get used to that.  It’s a New Year's Eve or party dress, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be attending either this year.

My personal preference is a V or scoop neckline because it gives more area for the viewer to cast their gaze upon and takes away from emphasizing my face. I like to include my neck and a few inches below that in my appearance – it seems to round out my total look and tends to center the gaze of others on a larger area rather than concentrate on just my facial features. I think it also expresses confidence by showing a bit more of yourself, but then again I’m fortunate as I have a small Adam’s apple, so I don’t need to worry about that.

I think Venus is likely aware of the crossdressing community, based on some of their offerings. Although they don’t seem to market to us directly, I suspect we’re part of their target audience because of the extra large sizes, the ruched styling, the high necklines to hide the Apple of Adam and certainly, the hip and sultry look of their designs. If any of you know about their company policies please, do tell.

It occurred to me as I wrap this up that it would be wonderful and a service to Femulate readers for other women readers, as Stana does from time to time, to describe your purchase experiences and insights – what’s your favorite outfit, did it fit, was it sized right, was it worth the price, how does it make you look and feel and would you buy another item from the company? 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Jeanine

Wearing Metrostyle

Gabriel Sanches femulating in the 2017-2018 Brazilian television series Pega Pega (The Big Catch)

In addition to the longline bra, corset and padded panty, I wear a SPANX Oncore Open-Bust Panty Bodysuit to smooth and sculpt my body, i.e, to put the icing on the cake that my other shapewear had created.

Also, to be complete, I usually wear Berkshire thigh highs. Occasionally, I will substitute the thigh highs with No Nonsense sheer-to-waist pantyhose if my hemline is very short or if I am wearing a romper or shorts. HUE opaque tights are another leg wear option.

Getting back to the hip pads comment, my response was “No hip pads. The foundation garments I wear reduce my waistline so that it appears I have hips and a 42-34-42 figure, more or less.”

My “more or less” equivocation haunted me all morning. I had not taken my measurements in years – certainly not since I lost weight, nor since I began wearing the current combination of shapewear. 

To sate my curiosity, I slipped on all my shapewear, took my measurements and took them a second time because I was surprised by my initial measurements. Turns out I was little more voluptuous than I thought – my measurements are 44-36-44.

Wearing Boston Proper

Carl Switzer femulating in a 1937 Our Gang comedy Mail and Female

The big names in our community garner a lot of press when they die, for example, the recent deaths of Jan Morris and Monica Roberts. But the death of the lesser-knowns in our community fade away without a word.

The following piece written by Paula Gaikowski, is a eulogy for one of those lesser knowns – Marcia Alvey.

Her story is not unlike yours, mine or ours and it is these shared experiences that bonded us together. 

As a child, Marcia always wanted to be a girl. There wasn’t any doubt, however, she did her best to fit in as there wasn’t any other real choice back then. She played football in college and graduated from Willamette University and went on to earn a law degree at Lewis and Clark Law School. She was admitted to the Oregon bar in 1987 and started her own firm in 1996. She married and raised two sons. 

After her divorce a few years ago, she decided to transition. She was an active volunteer with the Oregon Trial Lawyers Association and with Basic Rights Oregon seeking to protect the rights of LGBTQ Oregonians.

Throughout my life, I noticed that the feminine part of me, like a vine always moved toward the light. The growth of our friendship was one of those searching feminine moments, a need for someone like myself, who understood, respected and loved me. She was that light.

We shared our most secret secrets, words we did not dare to whisper to another soul. We shouted to each other in a language that only we understood because we were sisters of a type. What was foreign to others was native to us.

Watching her transition was amazing. I truly envied her and was awed by her bravery and the sensitivity and intelligence of how she approached it all.

Marcia was always there for me willing to listen and respond with kind words or advice. She was a kind, generous and a gifted person. Being transgender is not easy and unless you are transgender it is difficult to understand.

I corresponded with Marcia for over 20 years supporting, comforting and advising each other as we struggled with the problem of being transgender, married and parents.

My own brother died exactly one month before, Marcia did. Because of this preoccupation, I didn’t email Marcia for awhile. Finally, a few weeks ago, I sent an email, then another and finally one with the words, “I’m worried please answer!”

Last night, I received this from Marcia’s sister,

Paula, 

This is Marcia’s sister. Marcia passed away a week ago after having gall bladder surgery. I am so sorry to tell you this way.

I was heartbroken, however, you my Femulate sisters are the only ones who can understand this relationship and the loss. I really can’t share it with my wife, family or friends.

I have not transitioned, but I know that Marcia found peace in doing so. In her last email, she expressed to me the joy and happiness she felt that she was now seen and accepted as a woman by her colleagues and friends.

Paula, 

I was thinking of you yesterday on my drive home from work. I wanted to tell you this information in the worst way; like a girlfriend would.

It is not earth-shattering. I just had the realization due to a few moments and experiences that there is hardly any remnant of maleness left. I am a woman now. I feel it very much physically. I feel it very much socially. 

I went to the paint store yesterday and bought two gallons of stain and supplies for my sons to stain my deck at my condo. The clerk put it all in a box. When it was time to go, he handed me the roller extension pole then said, “Let me help you out with this ma’am.” 

You know what? I was thankful and relieved. I also felt very much a woman…

I believe that we never really lose the people we love, even to death. Their love, thoughts and principles leave a permanent imprint in our hearts. They continue on in this way in every action, belief, and choice we make. So too will you, dear Marcia, in our community you will be with us

I’ll miss you dear girlfriend, thank you so much for always being there and listening and advising. You left us too soon.

Wearing Shoshanna

Don Edmondson femulating in the 1974 film Baby Needs a New Pair of Shoes also known as Jive Turkey. You can view the film on YouTube.

On the other hand, my health is very good. I have no diseases and no prescriptions. And I look young for my age. I’m sure that never smoking and seldom drinking has something to do with it. Applying creams and moisturizers on a daily basis helps, too.

That being said, when I was younger, I assumed that when I became a senior citizen, I would not want to femulate because I would be an old lady. The desire to crossdress would dry up just like my youth. Who wants to look like an old lady? So I would abandon femulating and rest on my laurels.

Wrong!

The desire to femulate is stronger than ever. I want to femulate as often as possible because time is running out. But I feel so frustrated because the pandemic is keeping my femulations at bay. 

I do dress to the nines at home to keep in shape for future outings, but dressing up with no place to go is so boring. The holidays usually offer many opportunities to dress to kill, but not this year!

I am so anxious to femulate that I plan to dress en femme when I go to get vaccinated.

Wearing Adrianna Papell

“Old Lady” wearing Boston Proper dress and Nine West heels

The primary difference between us and other Third Genders is that many of us do not present as Third Gender all of the time, whereas other Third Genders are full-time. 

“In some cultures being third gender may be associated with the gift of being able to mediate between the world of the spirits and world of humans. For cultures with these spiritual beliefs, it is generally seen as a positive thing, though some third gender people have also been accused of witchcraft and persecuted. In most western cultures, people who do not conform to heteronormative ideals are often seen as sick, disordered, or insufficiently formed.” 

That in a nutshell is why many of us are not full-time – we live in a society where rather than being accepted, we are excepted (or worse). On the other hand, some of us have shed all the pretenses of being male, let our Third Gender fly and damn the torpedoes – full speed ahead!

Wearing Boston Proper

Una Muxe “In Zapotec cultures of Oaxaca (southern Mexico), a muxe (also spelled muxhe) is a person assigned male at birth who dresses and behaves in ways otherwise associated with women; they may be seen as a third gender.” (source: Wikipedia)

Why a dress every day, when Dressember offers the option that men can just wear ties for the month instead?

1. Because ties are stupid and dresses are fun.

2. And because gender norms are stupid, too. Why does it matter what we wear? (I’m not talking about full drag. That’s Draguary, which is an entirely different charity month.) Just me, as I am, pulling some dresses out of the closet and wearing them... and raising money to help people who are being exploited around the world.

Dressember is rated Platinum by Guidestar and 100% by Charity Navigator, so you know your money is going to people who can make change happen.

Here are some ways you can help:

1. Donate, obviously. Even a dollar. Or two. Or five. GO CRAZY, PEOPLE. Make me raise my goal.

(1a. Or donate somewhere else if you want. Something local, something important to you, whatever. Again, even a few bucks helps and charities have been really hit hard this year.)

2. Join the team! You can wear dresses (or ties, if you’re boring), too!

3. Do you have an old XL dress or two lying around that you don’t know what to do with? I’m anywhere from a size 14 to a 20, depending on the dress. I’ll come get it and add it to my closet and then at the end of the month, I’ll donate dresses to a local charity.

Please visit Chris’ Dressember webpage to donate to this charity.

Wearing New York & Company

Dave Foley plays a femulating dentist in the 2004 film Employee of the Month.

By Gina V

Just in case you haven’t already got the picture, I was not too impressed with the overhaul, nor with most of my new colleagues in particular the financial overlord hired to enforce the brave new world. Despite his superficially-friendly manner, anyone with half a brain could see what laid beneath was pure shark. So it was no surprise to me when he made it clear that no one had a job for life anymore and it was now basically each man for himself in what had become a deadly game of survival. 

As such, it came as rather a shock to turn up at the works Christmas party to find the guy prancing around in full drag. Not fancy dress drag (it wasn't that sort of event), but in mini-skirt, wig, etc. If he had been beloved and respected by his staff, I could have understood it. Instead, most, if not all feared and despised him, which made his motives questionable, if not alarming. Of course, afterwards he claimed he had only done it “for a laugh.” 

However, a short time later he invited his mostly brown-nosing managerial subordinates to join him for a birthday celebration in the West End. Not at any old venue though, but one that happened to be a drag cabaret club. So I went along, even though I couldn’t stand the guy purely as a convenient excuse as a then-closet crossdresser to see the show. 

By then, I had become the voice in the wilderness in a world of utter insanity, where public money was being thrown about like confetti while staff were too anxious about losing their jobs to do them effectively. So perhaps unsurprisingly, when the axe started falling, I found myself being one of the first in line. But to use Stana's terminology, I more than suspected my executioner was not the “civilian” he made himself out to be (as the old saying goes “it takes one to know one”). Had I come out to him as such, we probably would have found we had at least one thing in common that we didn’t before. And who knows, maybe I might even have been spared the axe.

Not that my morality would have let me continue on that basis as it would have been a case of “jobs for the boys” (or for “the girls” in this instance). But all the same, I was angry at having to clear my desk at the time, as I had put in over a decade of service beyond the call of duty (if I had a pound every time I stayed late or even went in at weekends on my own time...). And to add insult to injury, I was only offered a paltry three-months salary as a redundancy payoff. All that, simply because I was “the boy” in The Emperor’s New Clothes!

However, I realized in retrospect that in the long term the guy had done me a favor for I decided to drop out of the rat race as a result of it (and now being clear that despite my best efforts, I was patently not cut out for it). That in turn strengthened my resolve to emerge from the closet and as such, probably did so far earlier than I might have otherwise.

Wearing Package

Dorian Wayne femulating in the 1971 film The Blue Sextet. You can view the femulation on YouTube.

Casa Susanna was basically a bed and breakfast for crossdressers located in the Catskills of New York State during the 1960s.

It was operated by a husband and wife, he, a crossdresser named Susanna and she, a famed wig maker from New York City named Marie. Before Casa Susanna, they ran a similar establishment, the Chevalier D’Eon Resort, which was also in the Catskills.

Chevalier D’Eon Resort was the site of the adventures of Darrell Raynor, as documented in his 1968 book A Year Among the Girls.

Raynor’s book was the first book I ever encountered on the subject of crossdressing. At the time, I was a teenager and it took three trips to the store before I got up the nerve to buy the book. I will never forget the smirk on the face of the saleswoman, who rang up my purchase. I wanted to hide under a rock, but instead I took the book home and read it from cover-to-cover that night.

The book was such an eye-opener for a young femulator like me. Back then, there was next to no information available on the subject unless you frequented the right (wrong) bookstores or received mail wrapped in plain brown paper. So, I was amazed that there were adults dressing up and socializing as women!

Raynor never mentioned the name of the CD B&B he wrote about, nor did he mention exactly where it was located, but he gave a few clues and my guess was that it was located in the Poconos of Pennsylvania. I was very surprised to learn decades later that the CD B&B was just a short trek across the state line smack dab in an area where I worked for a six-week stint way back when.

During my six-week stay in Upstate New York, I visited the local lingerie shop and was fitted for a classic all-in-one by the older woman who ran the shop and knew her business. After the fitting, she was proud of her handiwork and commented that I had a great figure.

I was running a one-person quick-print shop and next door was a dress shop also run by an older woman. After six weeks, we became friendly, but I did not take advantage of our friendship and ask to try on her wares because I was worried that the guy I worked for might find out.

But I digress.

I filed Raynor's CD B&B in the back of mind. It came back to mind in 2005, when the book titled Casa Susanna came to be.

According to Amazon, “...while at a New York flea market, inveterate collectors Michael Hurst and Robert Swope discovered a large body of snapshots: album after aged album of well-preserved images, taken roughly between the mid-50s and mid-60s, depicting a group of cross-dressers united around a place called Casa Susanna, a rather large and charmingly banal Victorian-style house in small-town New Jersey [sic]. The inhabitants, visitors, guests, and hosts used it as a weekend headquarters for a regular girl’s life.' Someone—probably ‘Susanna or the matriarch—nailed a wonder board on a tree proclaiming it ‘Casa Susanna, ’ and thus a Queendom was born.

“Through these wonderfully intimate shots—perhaps never intended to see the light of day outside the sanctum of the 'house'—Susanna and her gorgeous friends styled era-specific fashion shows and dress-up Christmas and tea parties. As gloriously primped as these documentary snaps are, it is in the more private and intimate life at Casa Susanna, where the girls sweep the front porch, cook, knit, play Scrabble, relax at the nearby lake and, of course, dress for the occasion, that the stunning insight to a very private club becomes nothing less than brilliant and awe inspiring in its pre-glam, pre-drag-pose ordinariness and nascent preening and posturing in new identities. It is not glamour for the stage but for each other, like other women who dress up to spend time with friends, flaunting their own sense of style. There is an evident pleasure of being here, at Casa Susanna, that is a liberation, a simplification of the conflicts inherent in a double life.”

For more information about Casa Susanna, I invite you to read Zagria's blog post on the topic.

Wearing Ann Taylor

William Belli femulating in the television movie A Beauty & The Beast Christmas Thank-you Velma for the information about this femulation

Another post from the past – nearly nine years ago, December 14, 2011.

Not only did I discard replaceable items like clothing, wigs, makeup, etc., I also discarded irreplaceable items, primarily my collection of photographs. As a result, I no longer own a single photo of myself en femme prior to age 32.

Starla has been scouring the Internet searching online high school yearbooks for photos of high school femulations. She has sent me her findings and I have posted some of them here in the past.

Last week, it occurred to me that there were yearbook photos of me en femme (at the ripe old age of 25) attending my law school’s Halloween party. I lost the yearbook (it went out with everything else in the great purge of 1983), but I wondered if Starla could find it online.

I asked her, but after searching her resources, she responded that she could not find it. She explained that the majority of online yearbooks are of the high school variety; only a few college and graduate school yearbooks are online. She suggested contacting my law school.

I phoned the law school library and asked if they had the yearbook in their stacks. They checked and as it turned out, they had it! They welcomed me to visit the library to view it and photocopy anything I wanted.

Wednesday, I dressed en femme. I wore my black dress with the sequins pattern at the neckline that I bought from Ideeli, nude pantyhose, my new Nine West patent red and black Mary Janes, a new matching red bag from ShoeDazzle, earrings, bracelet, and watch. I topped everything off with my white fake fur coat and was off to Springfield to visit my alma mater.

(I might mention here that although I graduated from law school, I never practiced in the profession – not for one second. My first love was writing and while I waited for the results of the bar exam, I got a job as a writer and never looked back.)

An hour later, I arrived at the law school, parked the Subaru and walked to the school entrance.

There was a security guard station at the entrance. The library is not open to the general public; only students, alumni, faculty, and attorneys can gain admittance. I explained to the guard that I was an alumnus and she asked me for a photo ID. As I extracted my driver’s license from my purse, I told the guard that I was trans and that I looked a little different than the photo on the ID.

After she logged me in, I walked down the hall to the library. It was deserted. Final exams were underway and I assumed most of the students were in the classrooms filling up blue books. (Do they still use blue books?)

The library staff had set the yearbook aside for me, so they did not have to search the stacks again. I just had to fill out a simple form to borrow the book.

I found a comfy chair in the library lounge to cuddle up with the book and recall the past. I was sure that there were two candid photos of me attending that Halloween party 35 years ago en femme and I was a correct.

I wish I had my computer scanner to copy the photos, but all I had access to was a copying machine. I did my best adjusting the darkness to capture the best image and the result accompanies this post.

By the way, you find me in the photos wearing my first wig (purchased at a local Frederick’s of Hollywood store), my mother’s skirt (that I borrowed surreptitiously), my own boy mode sweater, a blouse of unknown origin and my first pair of Mary Janes.

And I was so young – so young that it brings tears to my eyes!

My Wednesday en femme did not end at the copying machine in my alma mater's law library.

As I exited the law school, I asked the security guard, who had been very personable so far, if she would take my photo. She was happy to do so and was even willing to go outdoors to take it.

It was a beautiful December day, so we decided to do the photoshoot outdoors. The photo accompanying this post is from that shoot.

I thanked her for her hospitality and left the school. I drove home and my day en femme was over.

All the people (male and female) who I encountered were polite, often friendly and always helpful when I needed their assistance. I don’t know if I passed or not and whether passing had anything to do with their reaction to me.

I have reached a stage in my life in which passing is not a deal breaker.

When I prepare to go out, I do my best to be passable. I try to be impeccable in my dress and makeup and make sure that there is not a hair out of place, but once I am out the door, I stop being concerned about passing.

I used to be very shy when I was en femme fearing that everyone I encountered would read me. If they seemed ok with me, then I would open up and be more like myself, but if they were not ok with me, I would get out of Dodge as quickly as possible

Now, I am personable to everyone I encounter. I don't wait to see how they react to me. I believe that by being personable and outgoing, it surprises people and they react positively whether they read me or not.

And I don't even think about it. That's the way I am in boy mode and now that I am free of the shackles of passing, I can also be myself in girl mode.

Wearing New York & Company

A Liverpool lad femulating in a 2018 stage production of Bugsy Malone