“Kill yourself you tranny faggot” was the contents of an anonymous comment I received the other day. I seldom receive comments like that, but when I do, they typically come from anonymous sources, who do not have the guts to stand behind their words.

I’ve been called worse to my face, so it does not bother me.

In fact, I find it a little amusing that a gutless coward is slipping into their anonymous big girl panties to find the nerve to call me a “faggot.”

I also find it sad that comments like that represent the feelings of some civilians out there, who are literally trying to kill us (dial up my good friend Diana’s blog any day of the week to see what I mean).

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Wearing New York & Company

Charley Chase (right) femulating in the 1934 film Four Parts.

Shaving your face is actually a good thing (as long as you don’t cut yourself). It is an exfoliant that removes hair, debris, excess oil and dead skin cells, which brightens the look of your skin and helps makeup go on smoothly and last longer.

I use a Gillette Fusion razor with a shaving gel (all links go to Amazon.com). The multiple blades in the Fusion provide a very close shave. Also, I shave in the shower. The steam and heat in the shower open your pores and soften your hair, making it an ideal environment for a close shave. 

I shave in the morning, remain clean shaven most of the day and only require a touch-up with a Philips Norelco electric razor if I will continue en femme through the evening. Using an electric razor avoids having to redo your makeup from scratch if you use a manual razor for touching up your beard and also avoids getting a razor burn. (Your mileage may vary depending on your beard’s behavior.) No matter how you shave, shaving dries out your skin, so it is a good idea to moisturize your face after a shave.

Like the old Maybelline advertisement stated, “Maybe she was born with it!”

To some extent, I was born with it. Whenever I received makeovers in the past, the makeup artist often remarked how I had an excellent complexion.

During one makeover, I asked Hollywood makeup artist Jim Bridges, which actresses he had worked with and he rattled off a few names. Then I mentioned that I thought Jaclyn Smith was one of the most beautiful women among the current crop of stars (circa 1985) and he responded that he had done Jaclyn’s makeup a few times and that she had lousy skin that required a lot of work! After bursting my balloon, he patched it up by adding that I had better skin than Jaclyn Smith!

Being an Avon lady, I occasionally receive free samples. About 20 years ago, I received a free sample of a product to deal with wrinkles around the eyes. Looking in the mirror at the wrinkles developing around my eyes, I decided to try the free sample.

After a week or so, the wrinkles were less noticeable. After a few weeks, I had to examine my eyes closely to find the wrinkles. So, I was sold on the eye cream and currently use Avon Anew Clinical Eye Lift Pro Dual Eye System every morning.

I also moisturize my face and neck in the morning using Olay Complete All Day Moisturizer. After many, many years of shunning skin care, I began using a moisturizer after my success with eye cream and it made a huge difference. My skin is smoother, more supple, healthier-looking and my makeup goes on easier, looks better and stays on longer. 

Avon Solutions Dramatic Firming Cream is a miracle product, in my opinion.

I have sun damage on the sides of my neck. All of the foundations I have used only cover the damage temporarily and sooner or later (usually sooner), the red skin shows through.

Perusing the Avon catalog one day, their Dramatic Firming Cream caught my eye and I bought a tub to try on my neck. Using it daily for a few weeks, I noticed some improvement – the redness was less red. Using it daily for a few months, the redness is gone! Wow! Like I wrote above, it is a miracle product.

Wearing Ann Taylor

Vittorio Gassman femulating in the 1963 French-Italian film The Monsters.

I missed another one! 

It is not an entry on my calendar because I don’t have to worry about coming out any longer. I am out to just about everyone I know (and don’t know). The only stragglers are some aunts and first cousins and the Internet savvy ones probably know if they ever Googled our last name because my “secret identity” comes up in the Google search results. (Note to cousins: You can tell me you know. I won‘t be embarrassed.)

C'est la vie!

One truth I discovered when coming out is that you are likely to have better reactions if you do it yourself rather than via a second party. I have come out to hundreds of people and have had no negative reactions (to my face – who knows what goes on behind my back?) The worst reaction was from an old friend who remarked, “Why would anyone choose to be a woman?”

When you use an intermediary, the reactions may not be so positive. My wife did a lot of the coming out to her family and friends. As a result, one long-time girlfriend ended her relationship with my wife over it. My in-laws, in general, were not supportive (oddly, the wife of my very non-supportive brother-in-law was very supportive). 

If I came out to them myself, I wonder if their reactions would have been better?

I was not always so free about revealing my secret identity. In the past, I took baby steps when I came out, carefully picking and choosing the people I considered coming out to and mulling over whether to do it or not.

Early on, I only came out to females – never to males. It was easy to come out to females because I was telling them that I am on their team. Men were not so easy. Just encountering men when I was en femme used to give me pause; coming out to a man was unthinkable. But I finally reached a point when I had to come out to males.

When I decided to attend a ham radio convention as a woman, I felt obligated to inform the officers and directors of the organization whose booth I would be staffing at the convention (I was an officer and director myself). 

I composed a coming out letter. That was the easy part. Sending it was the hard part.

I recall copying that letter into the text of an email, adding all the email addresses into the To: field and then hesitating to click on the Send button for hours... over three hours. 

I finally realized that my hesitancy was ridiculous – I had to come out to these people or chuck my plans to attend the convention as a woman. So I clicked on the Send button and waited for the reaction.

The response was anti-climatic. I received 100% support from the people who received my email. Not a discouraging word was heard.

And so it goes.

Wearing Venus

Greg Kean femulating in a 1993 episode of television’s Designing Women.

As a guy, I seldom was concerned about being out among strangers. I go where I want to go without a worry. I am big (6 foot 2, 185 pounds) and people are more likely to be fearful of me than I of them. So I have my size going for me as a guy. Yet, it is not something I have on my mind when I go out; it is just a fact. 

As a woman, I feel that I am a target. Not so much if I am walking the mall or visiting a museum. But when I am out on the street, in a parking garage or in a strange place, I am very aware that I am a potential target of someone snatching my purse or much worse. 

I learned my lesson many years ago. After a support group meeting, a bunch of girls decided to go to a gay bar. Leaving the meeting hall around 9 PM, I followed a trail of cars to a dark, unfamiliar neighborhood where the bar was located. There was only on-street parking, nothing available near the bar, so I had to park two blocks away. Another girl parked nearby and we walked the two blocks together.

I did not enjoy my visit to the bar primarily because the air was thick with cigarette smoke and I left after one drink. Walking back to my car alone, I had someone following me: a guy who was shouting at me wanting to know if I was in the bar’s drag show.

I ignored the guy and ran as fast as my high heels would let me. After one block, the guy gave up the chase and I made it to my car safely and a lot wiser. In retrospect, I should have asked the bar’s bouncer to escort me to my car or I should have waited until one of my friends was leaving and accompany her to our cars. Either way, I never put myself in such a precarious position again.

The Desota County (FL) Sheriff’s Office has a list of tips for women on staying safe.

• Be Alert! Scan the area as you walk. Be aware of your surroundings and walk with confidence.

• Avoid shopping alone. Try to shop with a friend or relative.

• Know your surroundings. Keep an eye on the people in front of you as well as behind you.

• Carry your purse close to your body and do not leave it unattended. 

• Try not to carry too many packages. Place all packages out of sight in your vehicle, preferably in the trunk.

• Park your vehicle in a well-lighted area. Even in daylight hours, you may want to park near a light pole so if you leave when it is darker, your car will be in a well-lit location.

• Approach your vehicle with your keys already in your hand. Keep your vehicle doors locked and your windows shut.  Look around, under and in your car, especially the back seat, before you get in.

• When leaving a business late at night, (if available) ask a security guard to walk you to your car. Do not go up to just any security guard. Go directly to the kiosk and ask for them to assign an officer to escort you. Predators sometimes dress up to resemble security or other authority figures.

Wearing Venus

Gale Gordon, Richard Crenna and Robert Rockwell femulating on a 1953 episode of television’s Our Miss Brooks. Thank you, Meg for the information about this femulation.

Mikki tells this true story that could have come right off the pages of Fictionmania.

I made sure I walked beside Richard in the parade and I even walked “her” home (it was on the way to my house). I didn't let on that I had found some of Mom’s lingerie in the clothes basket and wore my find whenever I could get away with it. But here was a boy who went all the way and looked like the real thing. I’ll admit it: I had a crush on “her.” 

Richard had twin sisters, who were one year older than him. They went to a Catholic girl’s school and were already home when we got to Richard’s house. He asked me to wait outside while he talked to his sisters. He was asking them about inviting me in and they said, “OK.” Here is where the BIG surprise comes in: Richard got out of his nice Halloween party dress and changed into a “play” dress!

Richard’s mother (let‘s call her “Miss Z”) had him wear girl’s clothing except “when he needed to be a boy” outside the house. I didn’t know what to say, but I was fascinated and maybe more than a little jealous. 

Turns out that Miss Z had been raped by a young man. A private marriage was performed and her spouse raped her again shortly after the birth of the twins and that produced Richard. 

When a problem occurred that caused her to give birth to Richard early, her husband was off in Ocean City with his mistress and only found out a week after the birth when he got home. That was the last straw and the couple split up and she divorced him. 

Her anger was so harsh that she chose to “deny” him his son by making him a girl. She got a large settlement and also had a big trust fund, so she disappeared into a middle-class neighborhood in the DC suburbs, leaving no forwarding address. I had stumbled into a real-life soap opera!

Miss Z had a trusted sitter watch the three girls when she had afternoon classes at Trinity College, the women's college of Catholic University. Her family contributed to Father Hartke’s Theater Program and had full access to all of that. 

Since I was taller and bigger than any of the three girls, I couldn't wear their clothing, so Miss Z borrowed clothing from the Catholic University costume department for me. I was fairly 4 to 6 inches taller than the rest of them. Miss Z was about 5 feet 1, while Richard and the twins were about 5 feet 3. None of them ever got any taller! No late-teens growth spurt for Richard –– he remained a cute, petite girl. 

Once we were in junior high school, Richard always dressed as her pretty self for school on Halloween and also for some small parties with people he trusted. He played the part of a crook who disguised himself as a woman in a school play (his only lead role). Otherwise, he pretty much kept a low profile through junior high. (Since Richard was petite, he looked like a girl in boy’s clothing and had to endure lots of teasing. 

High school was on the horizon. About halfway through our ninth grade, we received our “Choice” letter to choose what we were going to do for high school. Back then, over 90% of the kids in in our county did not go to college. Kids were expected to walk off the graduation podium with their diplomas and walk right into a job without missing a beat. I went to the academic high school while Richard went to vocational tech school for the beautician program. 

Miss Z moved to a larger house I continued to drop in and see her and the girls. Richard was becoming even more of a girl, prettier everyday and decided to adopt a new name. The nickname for Richard was “Dick,” so he became a girl named “Dixie” (Dick Z). Miss Z even had her name changed to Dixie for Richard’s senior year. While Dixie was an even bigger target for teasing, she was protected by a gang of girls in the beautician program. If boys wanted to date them, they had to leave Dixie alone and it worked!

Dixie wore her hair in a long-ish Pixie cut, but by senior year she, let her hair grow out. She was the best student in the beautician program, so teachers cut her lots of slack. I thought that was very impressive and forward-thinking for 1959. 

Dixie continued to look like a girl wearing boys clothing, but during the second half of senior year, she became that girl. Miss Z requested that the school allow her to graduate as a girl, but the school wasn’t nearly ready for that back in 1959, so they graduated Dixie separately (and they got a very nice donation from Miss Z). 

The school did let Dixie come to her prom. I know because I was her date and she was my date for my prom. Nobody said anything at her school and nobody came close to guessing at my school. 

After Dixie scored 100% on the DC licensing exam, she went to work in a very exclusive salon in DC. She quickly became their go-to makeup girl. 

I was attending Maryland University and would touch base every now and then. I even brought Dixie to a party with my college friends just to show them I could get dates with a super-beautiful woman. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 

During my senior year, Dixie got a job with Weston Cosmetics in Hollywood. A few years later, when I got a job with a Los Angeles-based computer manufacturer, I tried to look Dixie up. I was told she was on location, left a message, but never heard from her. Miss Z moved out of the DC area and left no forwarding address.

It was fun while it lasted and I would do it again in a heartbeat!

Wearing Venus

Sam Brown and Darren Trumeter femulating on television’s The Whitest Kids U’Know.

Attending Fantasia Fair in 2010, I became friends with trans advocate Ethan St. Pierre, who received the Fair’s Virginia Prince Transgender Pioneer Award that year.

I continued crossdressing as a 20-something throughout the 1970s. I was still closeted, but got up the nerve to Halloween crossdress on three occasions (and had the time of my life doing so).

Along came the November 1980 issue of Playboy containing an article about Fantasia Fair. It was intended to be a humorous piece, often at the expense of the folks attending the Fair. 

Put that aside, I had never heard of Fantasia Fair and the article provided a trans public service by revealing the Fair to me (and to probably hundreds of other girls like me across the USA).

What a dream! And the Fair was on Cape Cod – an easy four-hour drive, so maybe I could attend and live as a woman for a week. But...

👩 It was not free and at the time, I was only making $10,000 per year. 

👩 I was still mostly dressing out of my mother’s closet, so I didn’t have anything close to a wardrobe for a week (and Mom was not likely to let me borrow hers).

👩 I was scared. Except for a handful of Halloween crossdressings, I had never been out among the civilians and I was ill-prepared to spend a week en femme among the population of Provincetown.

So I did not go. 

Attending Fantasia Fair remained a dream for over a quarter of a century until I finally attended in 2008 (and again in 2010, 2012 and 2014). During the ensuing 25 years, I had joined a support group, attended long weekend trans conventions and went out solo en femme among the civilians, so the population of Cape Cod was no longer something to fear. 

I had a fabulous time each time I attended Fantasia Fair. Living 24/7 as a woman was initially thrilling and then became routine, but in a good way. I attended informative workshops, dined on fabulous food, enjoyed beautiful Provincetown and made a lot of friends.

The Fair is this week and I will not be attending, but I have my memories and they are all good.

Caveat Emptor: This post is an edited rerun of a post from last October.

Wearing New York & Company

Donald Dillaway femulating in the 1934 film The Circus Clown (starring Joe E. Brown) Thanks go out to Lou for finding this image.

Three years later, my company did it again and so did I wearing a pinstriped skirt suit, high heels and all the trappings of a businesswoman. I am sure that some of my co-workers who were familiar with my previous Halloween appearance en femme, were starting to wonder about my wardrobe choices. Some made amusing or pointed comments about my costume, but no one ever questioned me about it.

My company did not celebrate Halloween again. Occasionally, a co-worker would show up in costume on October 31, but without the company imprimatur, most people did not costume up.

After waiting nine years for the company to do something again, I took matters into my own hands and showed up at work en femme on Halloween 2013. Since the company was not celebrating Halloween, my co-workers had no reason to suspect I was in costume. Instead, I successfully played the new female hire again. And I became a Halloween tradition by appearing en femme for the next four Halloweens – that’s five consecutive Halloweens in a skirt and heels. 

I assumed by then that some of my co-workers thought that something was up regarding my wardrobe. Little did I know that by the time I retired, nearly all my co-workers assumed I was trans-something or other. This was a revelation to me when after retirement, I attended the company Christmas luncheon en femme.

At that luncheon, I apologized to a number of my friends for giving them the wrong impression that my Halloween appearances were nothing more than a very authentic costume. In each case, my friends admitted that they saw through my ruse and figured that I was trans-something! (That framed photo on my desk of meen femme probably did not help keep my secret identity a secret!)

Thing is that by the time of my five consecutive appearances in businesswoman drag, I did not care what people thought. But I did find it amazing that no one ever asked me about it. If they had, I would have told them the truth, but it never happened. 

Another thing is that if I knew that everyone knew, I would have found more opportunities to show-up at work as a businesswoman, for example, on other holidays, my birthday, days of the month ending in the letter Y, etc.

And so it goes.

Wearing Reiss

  

Pat Henry femulating in the 1968 film Lady in Cement.