Tag Archives: boobs

Dresses vs Guitars

The common code I use with friends when I’ve recently been dressing is that I had a visitor the other night. Although I suppose this implies a whole other person replete with uniquely different personality and voice etc it’s not strictly true. I change little inside, it’s mostly an external transformation. Years ago I was visited on a regular basis as I had a day off in the middle of the week, still one of my favourite aspects of my time in retail. These days it is more of a struggle as when the opportunity of an empty house arises. The fight between girly time and music commences in earnest. Though I must say that girly time is far more likely to win these days due to the rarity of such chances. There have been times when both co-existed. I can think of a handful of songs I’ve recorded over the years when I’ve been all made-up. I think those songs were probably invested with a little more passion as a consequence. It’s always something I wanted to combine properly at one point – my twin loves of cross-dressing and music. In my current band I have managed a watered down version of this though all I’m missing is a wig and make-up. I will generally wear a dress, tights and heels (sometimes a top hat too!). It’s a memorable image I feel and though it may put some people off I doubt they will forget the band with the dress clad singer. I defend it regularly as a talking point. My wife has come around to it though was for a while anxious as she feared the secret would be out but I’m pretty confident I’ve passed it as exclusively stage attire. I’ll admit though that a few folk who have been let in on the secret recently have gained entry through this but these are people I trust completely.

These are pics I took in July, I haven’t got a post to go with them so thought I’d just slip them in here;

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An opportunity arose a couple of weeks ago for a visit and it was a morning session which is unusual. Previously in the week I had got a half day so I could go shopping, mainly for a new dress as I had a gig on the Saturday. Shopping is usually a rare event also so I made the most of that and went into all the shops I could – charity shops mainly. My gig dress plan is a desire to have a select few dresses only for gigs as at previous shows I’ve worn some that I really like. So I came to a decision that I want some I care less about to wear at such events. I found one on sale at Asda for £5. It was a 14 but I won’t be wearing bosoms with it so I can just get away with it (it is a small fight to don and remove). In Barnado’s, a local charity shop, I spied a nice top and a dress that would not look out of place on Kim Kardashian – 99p each. The top doesn’t fit so I gave it to my wife and the dress kind of does fit but I can’t zip it up. I can’t explain why I was drawn to it as it’s not my usual style but it intrigued me. I made sure I at least snapped a couple of pics of me wearing it. Interestingly my wife also took that item. She was trying on some dresses a few days later and I showed it to her. She too was drawn to it and was initially shocked as to how short it was on her but I pointed out that she looked incredibly hot. I neglected to add how erotic I found it that she was wearing something that was mine and was making it look good. Obviously it was actually made for a woman so it would look much better draped around the correct body shape. When I wore it I was trying out my new corset/waist cincher and control pants with hip pads so I was giving it a good attempt. I admit I was taken aback when I seen myself in the mirror – I’ve never achieved that shape before and I was most pleased. I had a waist!

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In the few hours I had that morning I didn’t wear as many things as I normally would. I decided I would wear 2 of my least worn wigs (black and long red) and settle on something comfortable but mildly sexy. The mildly sexy part was taken care of with a white satin slip, black hold ups and a burgandy cardigan. Teamed with a long red wig it became most enjoyable. The pictures I was taking ended up taking a saucier turn than usual…

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Betty & Boobies

One thing I’ve never done and harbour a mild desire to do is actually meet other cross-dressers. I’ve seen photos online of them meeting up so I know it happens. I’ve also read it in a book I got not long after I confessed to my wife. It was called ‘My Husband Betty’ and it was written under the pseudonym Helen Boyd by the wife of a cd in America. It seemed like a good idea at the time – I thought we could both read it and it could maybe put our minds at ease a little. Demystify it as it were. I elected to read it first as I have more opportunities to read than my wife who is often running around after our daughter and running a household. Also I felt I should vet it in some way as I had the feeling it may not do what I thought it would. It made for insightful and uncomfortable reading at times. Some of it didn’t really apply to me which I expected  as I guess the author was painting a very broad picture.

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I was particularly intrigued by the concept of ‘girl substitution’. I didn’t have a girlfriend until my late teens and I think I may have done that on and off for a while prior to that. What I mean is that in the absence of a girlfriend I effectively created my own – though I didn’t get to spend as much time with her as I’d have liked. I read the whole book in a matter of days, even the bits that I didn’t think I needed to. My wife made a start on it but it seemed to make her uncomfortable. What must have been going through her mind? She may have wondered how much I have played it down for her. She would only read it when I was nearby. I don’t suppose it helped that ‘Betty’, the husband in the book, actually began to transition some time after the book was published and that is the subject of another tome entitled ‘She’s not the man I married’. Suffice to say my wife never got past the first couple of chapters and where I thought there’d be frank and adult discussion there was nothing. At that point for perhaps selfish reasons it made me wish I’d told her a lot earlier. We could have went shopping together without the kids (as there would have been none then) and I could have dressed more about the house with ease and without anxiety and that bastard guilt. I do try not to dwell on these things so I can live in the now. Everyone’s allowed a harmless bit of introspection now and then I think. I can look back and see there are stages I have gone through and every so often the ante gets upped. I liken it to when I got into Pink Floyd and eventually had all the albums and a healthy stack of bootlegs. From one CD grew a whole collection. I don’t suppose meeting with others is on the cards any time soon.

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The next landmark will definitely be the breast forms I ordered off Amazon last week, they’re a C cup if you’re interested. I cannot wait to get my grubby little hands on them. I’ve been looking for the package every night this week when I’ve arrived home. I really can’t wait to put them in place in a nice bra with a freshly shaved chest. I don’t think I can fully rest till they’re here, they’re probably the riskiest thing I’ve ever ordered. Wigs, corsets and underwear ain’t got nothing on these bad boys. It’s a new company that’s selling them and they don’t have a rating yet so I really hope I’m not their first mistake.

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