Mid-Week Dress Up Joy

I always wish I had more important or exciting things to write about. As it is though I cannot fully express the joy and excitement of a mid-week dressing session, especially one that takes place during the day lasting through to the night. I had managed to secure a half-day from work and decided to have a little jaunt round the shops. Aside from important stuff like wine, popcorn etc I was blessed with discovering some bargains. Firstly these 2 dresses both cost 99p from Barnado’s;

The purple knitted one is very comfy indeed and I must have wore that for quite a while (it has pockets too, I love pockets).

As you can see I also did my legs and chest, a rare event indeed. Haven’t done my legs for about 7 months and it always makes a difference to the outfit not to mention that it ups the femininity factor. All of a sudden the skirts get shorter…

That last skirt is one of my favourites, it managed to survive the last purge. It’s just so ridiculously short. I know it doesn’t really go with stockings but I don’t care!

The other bargain I secured was in Primark where I found a pair of nude heels for £3 in the sale. Upon taking them to the counter I ended up in a bit of banter with the assistant. She didn’t really think they were my style and I told her that I had an outfit that would go swell with them (a lie) so stop being so presumptuous. When the shoes scanned they showed up as £1! I could have done a wee dance but I restrained myself and expressed pleasant surprise. There’s a little ankle strap on them that I considered cutting off but actually it looks okay on.

…my favourite view, I cannot lie!

Mostly I lounged around – though I did put a washing on, hoover and do the dishes so I’m not a totally lazy bitch. I like to try and make the most of this time. That’s why I never just wear one outfit and I’m assuming other cds are the same. There was a dress I got my wife for Christmas years ago that she has relinquished to me that I rather liked, I tried that out to. It was from Joe Browns so it wasn’t exactly cheap.

Finally what turned out to be the biggest surprise was a red dress I bought to wear at a Christmas gig last year*. I had never worn it with make-up and a wig before but I thought I’d give it a go because I was considering getting rid of it.

I’ve changed my mind as you can imagine.

Before I go here’s a shot of my new ridiculous shoes on. I’m still not used to them yet as they are a bit big for me and I have to stuff them at the back so they don’t fall off!

*I wear a dress and heels on stage with my band but I don’t go all the way. I get too warm on stage in normal attire so a full transformation would be out of the question.

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…

Confessing

Anna isn’t my real name. It’s a girl’s name I chose pretty much at random – from a Page 3 girl as I recall. You see I’m a man that for some undefined reason derives considerable pleasure in transforming himself into a woman. This change is entirely on the surface and does not extend to my mind, I am basically just a man in a dress. It’s a hobby – an odd one perhaps – but through years of practice I think I’ve gotten pretty good at it.

Below are two examples from two different periods in time.

2005 and 2013

2

I can’t be certain for exactly how long I have been doing it. I have a rather vivid memory from sometime in the mid-80’s of trying on a pair of my mother’s heels. It’s fair to say I was hooked instantly. I’m sure my story from then on is similar to everyone else’s, raiding the washing basket for clothes, trying out different things and building up a sense of style and self. Though I feel I should point out early on that I do not desire to become a woman. This is important though makes more difficult to explain or justify (even to myself) why I do it. I just really enjoy the process and especially enjoy the end result.

Cross-dressing is the biggest secret I’ve ever kept and I indeed managed to to hide it successfully for many years. It pales my other secrets into comparison, such as they are. I would love not to hide it but I feel most people are not ready for that bombshell. I did eventually decide to confide in my wife but I’ll admit it was mainly so that she didn’t find out in some other unfortunate way. There was always the possibility no matter how careful or diligent I may think myself. She was genuinely surprised! I had been mulling it over and building up to confessing for a week or so but I still felt sick the moment the words left my mouth. I told her I’d try my best to answer any questions she had about it as I was not sure where to begin. Amongst her major concerns were ‘was I gay?’ and ‘do I want to become a woman?’. I assured her it was a most emphatic negative on both counts but I suppose even then her fears and worries may never fully be at rest.

I contrived to arrange a meeting of sorts, my wife had offered to give me a make-up lesson. I accepted and one night a while later when my little girl was in bed she set to work. I learnt about moisturising but to be honest I didn’t learn anything else. After this I really wanted to get dressed up to show her how seriously I take my look. I donned my smartest (and I’ll admit my most low-cut) black top, black pleated skirt (above the knee of course), black tights and my black 4 inch heels. I was a vision in black, very existential! She had the good grace to say I had nice legs but it must have a little difficult to deal with. Effectively I feel that I was threatening her femininity and since then she begun to wear more skirts. At Christmas that year she bought me a top as a little extra present. It’s a bit like something that Florence Welch would wear so I like it (though haven’t worked it into a definitive outfit yet I’m afraid). I do appreciate the gesture and she also bought me a little black stretchy skirt last year. It’s one of my favourites because it’s quite comfy and a little bit sexy. It certainly makes me more confident about buying her clothes now, especially dresses. We’re certainly more likely to talk about fashion these days but I can’t be certain if this has brought us closer or not. I hope it has as it was one of the main motivations behind my confession.

My wife calls it my ‘thing’ and sometimes it’s my ‘habit’. It’s not in her mind as often as it’s in mine so she can be taken aback when it’s remembered. If I’ve been left alone for a few hours when she’s out and I’m clean shaven upon her return I’m likely to be asked if I’ve done my thing. Very astute. It is often the case, as much as I try not to do it as regularly. Sometimes she’ll ask what I was wearing and I sheepishly oblige with a description. I like it when she’s curious.

Here are a couple of other pictures from the last year, both dresses belonged to my wife and I acquired them during a clear-out of her wardrobe.