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…
There are certain pictures I took around 2006/2007 that still stand as being favourites. I was lucky that at that time I had a day off during the week and when I wasn’t doing musical explorations I was exploring my feminine side. I practised my make-up as well as that was something I had only dabbled in a little bit before. These days I use very little make-up and tend to go for a more natural look. Usually just foundation, lipstick, eye-liner and mascara (rarely use eye-shadow). I tend to favour liquid eye-liner done in the winged style and only on my top lid. A nod to those classy sixties ladies you always see in old photos like Catherine Denueve. I don’t have a definitive bra size though they mostly seem to be C cups. Most of my bras are cast off’s, having only ever bought one myself, an attractive blue and pink lacey one with matching thong. I love thongs! I’m one for ‘tucking’ and a nice tight thong usually keeps ‘him’ in place. I’ve always tucked. I know not everyone does – I wonder if that guy from ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ put them off! I always thought it completes the look, erasing the last vestiges of masculinity (after shaving of course). It is possible to hide the testicles as well by literally manoeuvring them back up from whence they originated. Really sorry to put that image in your mind but I promised myself I was going to be as frank as possible here. Grrrrrrr! One day I’ll perfect the art of smiling Going outside dressed is another area that’s interesting to me. I’m sure it’s one of the things that most cross-dressers really desire to do. To be able to walk about freely, feel the wind on your legs and under your skirt, the click of your heels on the pavement. It’s brilliant – though terrifying at the same time. In the last year I’ve gone out for a walk late at night around 6 times, and with each sojourn have grown more courageous and spent longer wondering. I don’t go far, around the block usually but I’ve varied my route each time. No subsequent jaunt can ever match that first one for sheer excitement. I had been out once before when I was younger but if you recall that didn’t end or begin well. This time I had keys with me! When the door closed I felt so alive. I was wearing a random top, scarf, pleated black skirt (a la Zooey Deschanel – above the knee obviously), black tights (80 denier) and brown knee high boots. I didn’t have a bag to complete the look sadly so I had to make do with one of my man bags turned the other way. I was only out for about 15 minutes but it was a massive adrenaline rush, especially when I hit a main road. I passed a couple waiting for a bus and instantly wondered if they’d sussed me. I’d like to think that as I passed the man stole another look as my skirt swished from side to side with the swagger that my heeled boots gave me. I was cautious to brush my hair more forward than usual, just incase anyone got too close a look. I know I can’t fool everybody. I find it really weird that I should think that – I don’t fancy men in the slightest but the idea of male attention just adds an extra frisson. It’s one of the odder quirks of this whole thing though it’s not an overriding desire. I would have no intention of fulfilling that one. I don’t actively seek males out, though they’re invariably a hazard online. Some of them are sweet and some of them are downright pushy. As I write I have entered a period where it is getting harder to grab some femme time. I’m not totally fazed by this as it makes it all the more special when it does happen. But I still long for it and am even starting to calculate when this next opportunity may arise. What I particularly like is when I get an evening – a rarity indeed. My wife and kids periodically stay over at her mother and father’s and that’s probably my favourite time. I always think of cross-dressing as a night time activity, under the cover of darkness. Though day time is fine, my imperfections are less evident by lamplight and the cathode (well, LED these days) glow. I might watch a film or catch up online, nothing sinister. Maybe a little spot of housework. Every now and then catching my reflection and getting a little thrill from it. Who is this mysterious woman staring back at me? Truth is it’s just me, she’s no different. I never gave her a name for years and the only reason I did was so I could set up a My Space profile. ‘Secret Poet’ was a title from my notebook that seemed to fit – my secret self. I’ve never considered changing it as I’ve no real need to and I’m too used to it now. I’m often interested how other ‘girls’ got their names and have asked on numerous occasions. Much like I also find it interesting how couples met. I always like those stories. They vary so wildly sometimes. The origins of femme names are no different. Like I said at the beginning I named myself after a Page 3 girl – I think she’s moved on now. The particular picture I seen her in was an incredible feast for the eyes. It was a classic pin-up style shoot and all the regulars of the day were done up in period make-up and vintage looking undergarments. Anna was the only one showing her posterior to any degree and I do love a posterior! White thong and suspenders set it off nicely but needn’t have been there. I always remember that image while the other ones have all faded from memory. I think it was for the Sun 2006 calendar. Good night! x