Tag Archives: sexy

Cassette Glam!

This post is just a short one, really just an excise to show off some pictures I took today. My friend Deedee gave me a dress before Christmas. It was one that didn’t really fit her and she thought that I may want it. It’s not my usual style but I may have found a way to wear it.

Yesterday I bought a radio cassette player second hand. A proper 80s one! I’ve been on the lookout for one for a while as I still make the odd mixtape and it means I can now play them whilst cooking dinner and dancing badly. I had an idea this morning for a photo opportunity with the tape player and the dress. There wasn’t long to capture it as I had a bunch of other chores to do but I got a couple of good shots that I can maybe use as press shots or whatever.

Firstly, some pics of the dress…

At this point I switched to my DSLR as I prefer to use that. It works better for indoors…

Enter the cassette…

This next shot is my most favourite one!

Then I decided to try a few sitting down…

I’m really pleased with how they turned out especially the ones with the flash. I wouldn’t normally use it but it helped the glittery bits stick out 🙂

Surprise gig joy!

As you all know I’ve become very busy of late! My inability to say ‘No’ is very strong indeed…except for a cabaret I was offered on the 2nd December which I had to turn down for practical reasons. I’m attending a wedding reception and my wife may very well kill me if I do the gig instead 😄.
This past Wednesday I was intending on attending Queer Theory again which I had last played in June. It was a fab night and I wanted to make sure I popped along again in an audience capacity as I’d missed a few crackers in the intervening montha. One of my friends Deedee was meant to be going too so I promised I’d meet her there. I advertised it as such on Facebook as I was looking forward to it. Most excited was I to then receive a message asking if I wished a little 10 minute slot as someone had pulled out! I managed to scrape a wee set together and had to make do with the decrepit guitar I usually leave in work but I set off in high spirits.

Compered by the highly irreverent Callum McLeod I shared the stage with some sensational folk again! A.Crow, (on top form, I’m a big fan of her words) Harlow (spectacular as always), Gabriel Featherstone (such a funny guy – I wish he did a full show one time), Black Doves (who were astonishingly brilliant this evening) and The Three Gentlemen (who were it seems from the future and a perfect way to end the evening).
A large number of photos were taken by a chap I know called Martin Windebank and I look forward to having a peek at those soon. I shall some when I get them – he has a fantastic eye so he does. I don’t get many ‘action’ shots but I’ve a feeling he’ll have captured some keepers.

Raiders of the Lost Pics

Recently I discovered that my old MySpace is still there. I have no way of deactivating it as I no longer have access to the e-mail address I set it up with. It had been quietly sitting there gathering virtual dust all this time. I’m guessing it was around 2010 since I last logged in, the time of the last purge. Familiar faces greeted me from my Friends list but all posts and comments appear to have disappeared. I wonder what all those people are up to now and if they’ve abandoned their profiles for dead too. The reason I logged on was to have a look at some of my old pictures to see if they were still there. Indeed they were. I no longer have copies of them you see, having been overly careful down the years I would delete pics off the hard drive once I’d uploaded them. An idea I have been thinking over for some time is to sort out my Anna photo archive properly. From 2011 onwards I have a pretty comprehensive collection but the years prior to that are decidedly patchy. I had thought of maybe starting a Flickr account too. So I have somewhere to keep a back up but also have them on display for anyone who would appreciate them.

As often happens when you start looking at old photos I was transported back in time and thus lost track of it. I copied a fair few of them – not all though only the ones that looked okay. Some of them I had forgotten about and I cringed at some of the outfits and poses…

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I began to think again about why as crossdressers we photograph ourselves as we inevitably don’t get to share them much (god bless the internet). I suppose it’s not too odd because really as people we photograph everything we see, especially these days. We like to chart the progression of our lives and we like to remember. I’m particularly pleased with my archive, it’s pretty much a decade’s worth.

Pictures can also be incredibly powerful, funny, moving, thought-provoking and obtuse. Sometimes all at once. I happen to think the best ones are not always posed. I really like the pictures where the subject(s) are not necessarily aware that they are being photographed. No one else has ever taken a photo of Anna and I think I’d really like that. It would be terribly interesting to see how that would turn out. I’ve often wanted to ask my wife but have been too shy. When we did the now traditional Halloween Anna evening last night I wanted to ask but couldn’t find the right opportunity. I suppose I’m also a bit worried because when we were discussing my last post she remarked how I seemed to default to ‘sex kitten’ in them. It was a good point but that’s probably just because o my wardrobe choices. Put me in a cute skirt and heels I automatically bend or point my knees and turn my head to one side. I can’t help it 😄

I did take a few pictures before we settled down to watch a film. Ended up in that green dress I bought a couple of months back and I even accessorised!

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Hope you all had a great Halloween too! If I sort a Flickr out I’ll let you know X

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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Documenting and it’s Perils

In my formative years I ventured outside a few times – in broad daylight! I didn’t go far you understand but I would never dream of doing that these days. That came to a halt when one night my mother and sister were out for a couple of hours and I managed to lock myself out. I was around 16 I think. So caught up in maintaining a feminine air and lost in all the excitement. All of that vanished the moment the Yale lock snapped shut behind me. That noise will haunt me forever. It was night so I had darkness on my side and I knew I had a couple of hours before anyone returned. Panic set in and I crept round to the back of the house. When I got to the back door I removed my long black wig and all my other clothing except for the tights (it was Winter after all!). I sat on the step and feverishly began to formulate a story. The one I came up with was not exactly watertight but it was the best I could do – I decided that I had gone to take rubbish to the bin and locked myself out. I counted on the fact that I had kept the house mostly in darkness so that when they did return I could tell my tale and shoot inside very very fast. Indeed that’s exactly what happened and it was never mentioned or brought up again. I always wonder what happened to the skirt I was wearing that night, it was long and black with square buttons going up the front. I can’t remember what top I wore for some reason, usually I’ve a good memory for clothes. It is very odd to sit and recall these things and to be writing it all down. More memories rise to the surface of particular dressing times. Clothing that I really liked that I no longer have. Some of them probably wouldn’t fit me now anyway nor fit in with my current style. Social media was definitely a turning point and one that led to me developing my style and becoming ‘executive’. My habit at that time had been locked away but was beginning to call to me again. I had become tired of ignoring it and denying myself so I began to accrue a new collection which included a decent quality wig for once – a short blonde one. I thought I’d give blonde a try, everyone does at some point. Around then (2005) I had a male My Space and it occurred to me that if I set up a female one I could finally get a chance to talk to other TVs and make new friends, compare stories, that type of thing. I duly set about taking some pictures which were just ‘selfies’ on my little Fuji digital camera. It was a basic model without a timer function on it. I’d never photographed my female self for posterity before and it was a learning process I believe I’m still in just now. Especially hard when you’re just outstretching your arm in order to capture yourself. I favour the full body shot, need to get the legs in there (and if at all possible the heels too). My tranny forebears must have been so relieved when digital technology came along. I’d hate to have had to take those kind of pictures along to get developed. Now you can take as many as the memory card will allow and be spared a certain amount of embarrassment, especially if doing this… Image or this Image or this Image or this Image I spoke to some really nice people online, in and out of character, though it never got so personal as to exchange real names or anything like that. There were plenty of ‘nutters’ as well however. Real deviant types propositioning you and the like. Some of the conversations were amusing, it was best to view them that way and not let them disturb you too much. It got to me initially and did lead to me deleting and remaking my profile a few times. The last one I did may even still be out there somewhere. Some months later we got a new camera and this one had a timer function – 2 seconds or 10 seconds? An odd choice. I choose 10 but it can be too long to hold or strike a pose. You can become distracted or move at the last second and spoil it like this… Image Not long after that I discovered ebay and before long I was looking at wigs and other things (underwear, nice dresses etc). I got the most gorgeous auburn wig for £30. I loved that wig. It’s in a landfill now probably. I didn’t look after it properly anyway. I didn’t realise you could wash them which is something that I now try to keep on top of. I loved being a redhead most, it seemed to open up more wardrobe possibilities. It may be something to do with the fact that I’ve always had a particular fondness for them. One of my favourite crossdressers from those My Space days was a redhead, she was called Aubrey Frost. I sometimes wonder where she is now (sigh). If you Google Image her you can see what I mean.

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.

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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.

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

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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

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