Anna’s Alive!

So I survived intact after a night out as Anna. I’m not sure how to write about it but I do know I should keep it brief and vaguely interesting. I have read accounts of other people’s nights out and some have a tendency to overshare, delving into the minutae in excruciating detail.

This is how I looked after around 75 minutes of scrambling around in a work toilet…

I think having someone else with me helped a great deal, the only real terror came when exiting the toilet and stepping out the main door. It was so damned windy and my hair immediately went to pot. I met my friend and we walked to the train station. On the way I was read by a couple of passing girls who screeched with what I can only assume was glee “tranneeee!”. That did make me chuckle. From then on though I was oblivious to any other such attention. In fact I feel I should thank everyone I came into contact with that night for not batting their eyelids and treating me as normal. Basically I just had to go for it and interact with people and it paid off. Having never really given Anna’s voice any thought prior to this, I thought it best to just speak a bit softer without being over the top scaling octaves like a mad man. It seemed to work.

We only had between 6 and 10pm to work with so we went to 2 places. First we had food at a place called ‘The Living Room’ and it was really nice and friendly. The waitress impressed me no end by asking ‘us ladies’ if we wanted a drink while we waited. Whilst there I also got to visit the Ladies Bathroom which has always been a mysterious place for me. I fixed my hair and make-up and a couple of other girls were taking selfies.

The next venue was a bar in the Merchant City of Glasgow called ‘The Riding Room’. Now this is defintely a place I’ll return to, in fact me and my friend are discussing the possibilities of this. I’ll try not to get too excited just incase. This was my first opportunity to go to the bar and I think I did alright. The barman even called me darling. In fact my friend was certain he was checking me out! Whilst there my boobs came a little undone so I had to visit the bathroom again to fix them – damn! On the way back up the stairs (for the toilets were downstairs) a man held the door open for me and said “after you hen” which quickly became another highlight. It was indeed sad to leave, though it could have got awkward as the place started to fill up with people and a couple of them I actually knew from the gig circuit. I curse myself now for not going over to say hello as they are arty types who would probably have appreciated the effort that went into such a transformation. Well that’s what I’m telling myself 😉

Back to the station we trudged. I got my man bag from Left Luggage and we popped to the toilets so I could change. Funnily enough I got shouted at while I was at the mirrors by an attendant. “You’re not supposed to be in here” he said, but I assured him I was a woman 5 minutes ago and he didn’t have a problem then!

I had the luxury of an empty house when I got home so I decided to make the most of it and got dressed again (what am I like?).

Really glad I went out and I can’t wait to do it all again and hopefully with a bigger crowd (and for longer). I feel so blessed that I have great friends that are more than happy to go along with my tranny tendencies, I wish everyone had that.

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;

 

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!

 

 

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…

Purging and Progressing

I find it interesting how far I’ve come in terms of style and appearance. It was really around 2005 that I began to take it seriously enough to actually get a proper wig and a decent wardrobe. This short blonde wig doesn’t really suit me but I had it for a while and it was good practice.

  

Until then there were countless cycles of of scavenging folk’s cast off clothes and substandard hair…

…and there were the purges. Sad things that they are, within them lie many regrets. I can think of so many items over the years I foolishly relinquished in the hope that I could stop it all. No clothes – no urge. Problem solved. I always remember the one I did in 2010 because it involved my favourite auburn wig.

The box behind me in the picture is where Anna hid for a few years stowed at the bottom of my wardrobe.

  

Try as I might I’ve been unable to find a satisfactory replacement for that one but I live in hope. I have come close. If you’re going to have a purge I suggest not getting rid of everything because it is inevitable that you’ll begin another. If it’s inside of you it will always remain a part of you. I haven’t done it again since but I guess that’s because I went and made myself official.

I have no sexual attachment to dressing which I understand some people have, for me it is not a fetish. It certainly had the potential to early on as I feel sure I remember enjoying my first orgasm during one of these early sessions. I wonder if anyone else  can recall such an event. I can’t be chronologically specific as time has smudged the details but I do know this to be so. Standard masturbation intercepted in time and I suppose I was saved.

As I write, more memories slink forth. I recall with a mixture of shame and delight opportunistically trying on an aunt’s white wedding lingerie – stockings, suspenders and all. I wasn’t caught! How lucky was that? I must have been around 12 or 13 at that point and it was the most amazing feeling. The gentle tugging of the stockings as I walked, their soft and fresh caress of the shape of my legs. I could have worn them all day was it not for the all too present threat of discovery. I peeled them off, neatly folded them and put them back from whence they came.

Discovery is not cool. I have been so lucky over the years with only a couple of close calls to my name. There’s no doubt however it adds to the excitement, much like people who have sex outdoors and in public places.

Next time I’ll maybe recount one of those experiences, until then here’s another suggestive gem from the archives x