I was in engineer mode today whilst operating my equipment. Imagining again if I were en femme. I got to thinking about breast forms (which I don't have...Barbara is in my mind kind of a sporty flat chested gall, but forms would balance out my manly shoulders a bit......)
I devised a method for sculpting breasts, and making a mold and then casting...Probably wont ever get around to it but I had the methodology figured. So the question is since I was in engineering mode, thats typically (for me) my male side, so was I in Barbara mode, or perhaps nicely integrated?
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Gender Divisions and Expectations.
So it finally happened. My youngest boy that I have written about previously, wondering if like father like son he has any trans issues, has been indoctrinated by society about what is appropriate garb for a male.
In my last visit home, I was relaxing in a post coitus fog, when Dee reached for a bottle of a very summery-orange nail polish. This particular shade wasn't one I would have thought to pick, nor probably her. It came courtesy of a good friend who sent his stash when he decided he didn't want to dress anymore. She cradled a foot in her lap and began carefully applying the polish. It looked good, I thouhgt especially later when she pulled out my Charlotte Russe gold strappy sandal heels and placed them on my feet. We actually ended up getting pretty kinky with both the painted toes and the shoe it self. I don't think that Charlotte had devised them as either a marital aid or a workable paddle, but they did suit both purposes well, but I digress here.
I was down in the kitchen kneading some bread dough barefoot, when the boy happened to notice. Mind you, this is the same boy that DELIGHTS in wearing mom's (really mine) heels and his sisters dresses and a wig. "That's GROSS!!!!" he announced, pointing to my coppery orange toes.
"What?" I patiently and and innocently asked.
"Your toes!" he exclaimed. "They have fingernail polish on them! That's for girls!" he proclaimed and began in a singsong voice to ask.."Do you want to be a girl?"
"Who says polish is only for girls?" I ask.
"It just is." The nine-year-old persisted "Girls wear that."
The eleven year old tomboy who has been quietly talked to about teasing her brother shen he wears heels or a wig, surprised me by jumping in.
"What does it matter?" she asked "It's just paint."
She went on to mention without being hateful about it the times he has crossdressed and that its fun and that clothes don't mean anything. She pointed out that Scotts wear kilts. This last was interesting since I don't recall any of us pointing that out to her in any prior conversations.
I saw a bit of recognition in her eyes that she knew this was more than paint, but its hard to tell if I was projecting. Interesting how ingrained these gender roles are in our society. I doubt he and his friends have ever had a conversation about what is and isn't acceptable for a guy to wear, and I know that conversation never took place in our home, yet there the bias is.
I am back at the residence campus where I live with 500 other men, mostly pretty rough and rugged manly macho types in appearance anyway. I left the polish on. It contrasts nicely with my blue shower shoes.
In my last visit home, I was relaxing in a post coitus fog, when Dee reached for a bottle of a very summery-orange nail polish. This particular shade wasn't one I would have thought to pick, nor probably her. It came courtesy of a good friend who sent his stash when he decided he didn't want to dress anymore. She cradled a foot in her lap and began carefully applying the polish. It looked good, I thouhgt especially later when she pulled out my Charlotte Russe gold strappy sandal heels and placed them on my feet. We actually ended up getting pretty kinky with both the painted toes and the shoe it self. I don't think that Charlotte had devised them as either a marital aid or a workable paddle, but they did suit both purposes well, but I digress here.
I was down in the kitchen kneading some bread dough barefoot, when the boy happened to notice. Mind you, this is the same boy that DELIGHTS in wearing mom's (really mine) heels and his sisters dresses and a wig. "That's GROSS!!!!" he announced, pointing to my coppery orange toes.
"What?" I patiently and and innocently asked.
"Your toes!" he exclaimed. "They have fingernail polish on them! That's for girls!" he proclaimed and began in a singsong voice to ask.."Do you want to be a girl?"
"Who says polish is only for girls?" I ask.
"It just is." The nine-year-old persisted "Girls wear that."
The eleven year old tomboy who has been quietly talked to about teasing her brother shen he wears heels or a wig, surprised me by jumping in.
"What does it matter?" she asked "It's just paint."
She went on to mention without being hateful about it the times he has crossdressed and that its fun and that clothes don't mean anything. She pointed out that Scotts wear kilts. This last was interesting since I don't recall any of us pointing that out to her in any prior conversations.
I saw a bit of recognition in her eyes that she knew this was more than paint, but its hard to tell if I was projecting. Interesting how ingrained these gender roles are in our society. I doubt he and his friends have ever had a conversation about what is and isn't acceptable for a guy to wear, and I know that conversation never took place in our home, yet there the bias is.
I am back at the residence campus where I live with 500 other men, mostly pretty rough and rugged manly macho types in appearance anyway. I left the polish on. It contrasts nicely with my blue shower shoes.
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