Seven people and me having two distinct wardrobes means a lot of clothes.
I had a very good day shopping yesterday..
I was very balanced in my purchases. I thought of my male side, and my family's needs, and "just happened" to supplement my fem wardrobe along the way. I pre-ran the Goodwill Store yesterday and was nose to glass this morning 15 minutes before they opened. (yes I am obsessed)
The reason I was waiting so anxiously? I found a navy all wool genuine Brooks Brothers 3 button blazer, and the tag color meant that by today it would be $1!!!! A $480 jacket is now mine, all mine. I scored 1/2 dozen all silk ties, including a real Gucci, and and just as if "Bob's your uncle" a Nordstrom's tie by Robert Talbot. Gave me a grin. A couple of real nice men's wear trousers including the bottom 1/2 to a men's suit with buttons for braces. I got yet another London Fog wool lined trench, an actual Polo shirt in royal blue, my favorite. I'm thinking of going m-t-f-t-m.
My femme wardrobe increased by an a-line sleeveless dress, a red size 6 gown (Dee hates me for inhaling into it, a brown and white checked golf wrap-around skort, a double-breasted men's cut jacket dress, and a pair of black pointy-toed, low heeled, sling-backs.
Dee came to the first and third store with me and combed the kids jean sections and came up with a dozen pairs for the middle two kids. I combed the size zero-two section for the twelve year old.
I looked high and low for skirts (not the hemlines, the racks). I found Dee a really nice plaid knee length lined wool, a 75% silk and 25% linen melon colored one, a light weight wool one in that trendy cocoa color. On her own she found several additions to her current favorite genre, nice fitted layering shirts. I found a couple of really good quality additions for her.
The 12 year old (who just glued on fake nails tonight) is the easiest to buy for. She has a fun sense of style, and everything cute comes in her size. I found a princessly size 4-6 gown that fit my perfectly and lit up her face when she saw it.
We found her a couple of short jackets that the girls wear with long layering shirts showing below. She has plenty of layering t-shirts so we found fun tops for over.
We did well for the hard to buy for 10 year old girl. Her rules include, no pink, no sparkles, no shorts, lots of pockets, soccer and sarcasm are a big plus. Dee really combed the t-shirt racks and we "splurged" on some 1.99 shirts even though it was dollar day. I think we even went $2.99 for an especially sarcastic saying on a shirt. She was so happy with it that we slipped a purple (her favorite color) Sunday-go-to-meetin dress that is beautiful on.
Dee found a small cheerleader skirt and offered it up to the girls if either wanted to use it as a Halloween costume. (the 12 year old would have glammed it up, the 10 year old would have gone with 'dead cheerleader'). Neither were interested. Dee said she'd add it to the dress-up box.
Right on cue the 8 year-old announced that he looked forward to it. He also liked his dinosaur t-shirts, new jeans, his sarcastic shirt, and some striped polos.
The teenager, sho used to skateboard in my tailored to my size all wool suits, is now too much of a teenager to express outward enthusiasm for anything as pedestrian as clothes. He did seem to like the shirts and pants we got him. I am going on the positive inflection in the grunts issued. He seemed indifferent to the nice double breasted black blazer I got him. On the other hand it was probably close to 100 degrees yesterday. Not the best time to imagine oneself in a coat but ag great time to buy one.
We spent less than $175 and got probably over 150 individual articles of clothing.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
My spectator pumps.
Loved these shoes when I saw them in a thrift store. I need a conservative business suit to wear with them. Or a nice wool skirt and plain blouse maybe. I put them on with the cocktail dress just because I have been wanting pictures of those (and other shoes).
You can see my zippers on my right shin from my losing car/motorcycle argument. My Orthopedist did good work just so I could walk, let alone look good in hose! He might have had a plastic surgeon assist if he (or I) had any idea at the time I would later wax my legs, put on sheer hose and sexy shoes and show off his work to the world.
Make-up by Barbara.
I have been cheating on my make-up by having Dee do it for me. She was leaving for her part-time job for a couple of hours and the cable was out. If I can;t talk about dressing up, I guess ~sigh~ I could ACTUALLY dress up.
Last time we did pictures, Dee got pretty good results without a planned layer of liquid foundation (we forgot to bring it with us)
This time she suggested I add that layer this time. I did and turned my face into very soft, gently cracking leather.
Trying to salvage some self-respect before she got home, I donned my wig, and a cute little cocktail dress Dee found me. The make-up isn't good at close range, But I haven't dressed in ages, So when she got home I had her take some pictures. My spectator pumps don't really go with the party dress, but I have been wanting some pics of them, So we combined elements to take some pictures.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Feeling pretty Butch lately.
To Illustrate:
On a forum I belong to, a woman who hunts with her family for Deer, Hog, Squirrel and Coyote mentioned her happy anticipation of the season opening.
Someone who I presume doesn't hunt, hasn't hunted, and is not a vegan. This person I assume feels that they eat is more honorable if it was killed by someone else and better still that domestic livestock's death was inconsequential because unlike say the deer the animal never lived free, so it's life one presumes was worthless. I could ask these questions but I'd get more bumper sticker animal "rights" morality.
They said:
I fumed and typed and began the search for their inevitable post previously where no doubt they defended some other idiot's right to think something ridiculous because they "feel" a certain way. I realized before hitting enter that this troll was one of those overly clever in their own mind types that will defend and parry with silly arguments and diversions without in anyway even considering the substance of my refutation of their premise. I decided to put my thoughts down here in case I feel the need to respond to the next idiot I can just cut and paste.
I was going to respond:
The place I read this? A site for crossdressers. My apparel at the time? entirely male. I really should slip on some hose at the bare minimum.
Edit: So I went back and tried to ignore it, but my fingers flew of their own accord. The next version:
On a forum I belong to, a woman who hunts with her family for Deer, Hog, Squirrel and Coyote mentioned her happy anticipation of the season opening.
Someone who I presume doesn't hunt, hasn't hunted, and is not a vegan. This person I assume feels that they eat is more honorable if it was killed by someone else and better still that domestic livestock's death was inconsequential because unlike say the deer the animal never lived free, so it's life one presumes was worthless. I could ask these questions but I'd get more bumper sticker animal "rights" morality.
They said:
To deliberately take the life an innocent creature for any other reason than to eat it or as a last resort of self-defence is an anathama. Those who do not respect life deserve no respect themselves.
I was going to respond:
At least you didn't resort to the usual tripe about "defenseless" animals. (As all animals not extinct have been given many and varied effective defenses.)
As far as innocent, what does this mean in terms of an animal? My dogs occasionally looks guilty when they apparently know they have been misbehaving. People who actually study animal behavior even at slogan rich universities call this phenomenon anthropomorphism. These are attributes that we as humans imbue on animals in order to equate their learned behaviors to human motivations.
I find it fascinating that the very people that cry the loudest when their ox is being gored are the first to sharpen their horns when it is a subject that they basically have no experience with or real vested interest in. The best example I ever saw is a car with many bumper stickers. Two that the person's highly enlightened mind decided were in harmony with their philosophy of life (literally life) were "Meat is Murder" and "My Body my Choice" . This person values the potential of an animal of the potential of a human being. Worse though was the self righteous pronouncement that no one can tell them what to [I]take out of their body[/I] by violent means, but she could certainly look down on anyone that puts a burger [I]into their body[/I].
Especially in male mode I consider myself highly opinionated and argumentative. There have been so many threads where someone has posted something that defies logic and just begs a reasoned response. When someone feels their lifestyle choices or sexual peccadilloes are being 'judged' the response is always, If you aren't interested, don't read the thread, don't comment, and if you do, use kid gloves. Somebody needs to jump on the soapbox and defend the feelings of the hunters.
Those who do not respect other peoples opinions deserve no respect for their poorly formed opinions.
The place I read this? A site for crossdressers. My apparel at the time? entirely male. I really should slip on some hose at the bare minimum.
Edit: So I went back and tried to ignore it, but my fingers flew of their own accord. The next version:
I am feeling a bit relieved to find that the bumper sticker is wrong then. Meat in fact, as you 'judge' it is NOT murder then? Great! Save me a venison stake, some ribs, and a little squirrel stew.
Innocent? Anthropomorphism aside, what standard shall we hold the animal's behavior to? Beyond a reasonable doubt? By the preponderance of evidence? What if the coyote has an "innocent" lamb in it's jaws, should one convene an inquest to determine whether he was a predator or a scavenger in that instance, I mean if you don't have an actual witness of the lamb-o-cide? What if the lamb was asking for it? :tongueout
Good thing this was so well reasoned, I'd hate to think anyone on here would jump in rashly and make a judgment about anyone else's lifestyle or activity.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
What my "Male Side" finds sexy versus my "Femme Side's" tastes.
Someone on the forum posed the question:
My response was:
In real life, on exactly one occasion, I caught such a glimpse.
No, not of Beckham's abs. The distended ripple of stocking as it was tugged upward by an unseen suspender. The woman was tastefully attired in a business suit and unadorned heels. I first noticed as she arranged herself into her car after work. I was awestruck at the sight and stood in reverent silence for probably too long after she modestly slid her legs into the car and shut the door. On the bawdier side, Dee used to delight in my pleasurable discomfiture at knowing that under her modest office attire was something designed by Frederick himself. Possibly in or near Hollywood. She used to delight in tormenting me with the snap of a garter strap through the fabric.
Once the girls who worked near her were passing around fashion circulars. The one getting the most comments was the Victoria's Secret mailing. At one point several were crowded around it commenting on some of the racier items and men's fascinations with them. Her attractive and none-too-prudish supervisor commented, "Can you imagine a woman actually wearing a thing like that?" pointing out a sexy black merry-widow. Dee laughed inside and quietly snapped her garter strap.
My closeted femme side mostly had access to, and experience with intimate apparel. This is probably common to many beginning CD's. I thought initially of sexy playboy poses when I thought of Barbara's potential appeal. Now that I have expanded her wardrobe to outerwear it is interesting to see how pretty I feel in more modest apparel. This holds true even as my dieting figure makes baring more certainly achievable.
I'm thinking I need to do more sit-ups both to make sure Beckham - the ultimate soccer mom fantasy date - does not steal Dee away, but also to flatten the tummy for borrowing back a merry-widow sometime.
"Why do so many TVs insist on showing stocking tops and suspenders in their pictures? How often do you see real girls flashing upper thighs unless they are on the game on a street corner?"
My response was:
"We often mistake the quick accidental flash of just a hint of the stretching of a stocking that suggests that a women is wearing a garter belt, with the pure fantasy that she showed us the tops of both stockings.
This is a purely male construction. It is fed by the male posed, male photographed "gentleman's" art that is of course designed for its consumers, horny men.
Less (er well maybe more actually) is definitely sexier on many levels, but that doesn't stop some from taking the quick jump from the suggestive to the bawdy.
In context though, such posing by TV's for other TV's and their male admirer's is in and of itself a perfectly valid niche er "art form". But no, lesbian or even the bi-curious woman, would look at such a photo and say, mmm, give me a piece of that.
(hmmm of course why does my wife salivate at the shirtless Beckham?...things to ponder...)"
In real life, on exactly one occasion, I caught such a glimpse.
No, not of Beckham's abs. The distended ripple of stocking as it was tugged upward by an unseen suspender. The woman was tastefully attired in a business suit and unadorned heels. I first noticed as she arranged herself into her car after work. I was awestruck at the sight and stood in reverent silence for probably too long after she modestly slid her legs into the car and shut the door. On the bawdier side, Dee used to delight in my pleasurable discomfiture at knowing that under her modest office attire was something designed by Frederick himself. Possibly in or near Hollywood. She used to delight in tormenting me with the snap of a garter strap through the fabric.
Once the girls who worked near her were passing around fashion circulars. The one getting the most comments was the Victoria's Secret mailing. At one point several were crowded around it commenting on some of the racier items and men's fascinations with them. Her attractive and none-too-prudish supervisor commented, "Can you imagine a woman actually wearing a thing like that?" pointing out a sexy black merry-widow. Dee laughed inside and quietly snapped her garter strap.
My closeted femme side mostly had access to, and experience with intimate apparel. This is probably common to many beginning CD's. I thought initially of sexy playboy poses when I thought of Barbara's potential appeal. Now that I have expanded her wardrobe to outerwear it is interesting to see how pretty I feel in more modest apparel. This holds true even as my dieting figure makes baring more certainly achievable.
I'm thinking I need to do more sit-ups both to make sure Beckham - the ultimate soccer mom fantasy date - does not steal Dee away, but also to flatten the tummy for borrowing back a merry-widow sometime.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Deportment or "How to Stand like a Chick"
My first rudimentary attempts to pass as a women occurred only about 3 months ago. I took photos to see for myself how the clothes looked and to be able to get some feedback on what I could do to improve. This was all in preparation for my big plan to wow my wife with my loveliness.Since then with Dee's help there have been some major improvements. There are indefinable cues that say to the human eye, "That is a female" or "That is a male". One of the things she taught me was how a woman shifts her body slightly, really without thinking about in in a way that is slimming to the camera. She showed me countless examples of stars on the red carpet and you could tell which saw the camera and which were caught off guard. My first example of the pictures I took I wasn't sure what was wrong with the pose. I laughed to see the pose men make when standing in front of a urinal.
I long ago dumped many photos that were frighteningly unflattering. Yes, even worse than that, ~shudder~ far,far worse. One where I wore some glasses and a prominent set of double chins looked like my dad in drag. This was not a pleasant sight to say the least. The double chin one was deleted in the camera. A couple of more pictures survived the later digital purge. Recently, a new member on crossdressers.com Alena from Minsk posted a link to their home page. Stunning photos. What really struck me, and Dee when I showed her was how well the posing was done especially the most recent few photo sets. I asked about it and was told that the secret for them was to take lots of digital pictures to practice, and learn from the "male" looking ones whatnot to do and to remember to repeat the poses of the "female" appearing poses. The results really speak for themselves. I highly recommend a look.
Another great resource for CD's is Rene Reyes page. For posing tips her section on posing is really useful. Dee read it and got some insights on what it is that I was doing wrong that she could see was off but just couldn't then put her finger on what it was.
I should include an after pose that resulted from Dee's coaching just a month after the first were taken, This one was from our first photo shoot together and after our first thrift store splurge. The make-up was (well is) still a learning process so a little B&W filter and some clever photo-shopping helped with beard shadow. Improvement, but still needs work. A couple of photo sessions later was better still. I have high hopes of continuing the trend of self improvement until I can sing with confidence, "I Fell Pretty..."
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Further retail therapy.
Dee and I hit a couple of Goodwill thrift stores Saturday. We spent much too much but got some cute things. In the first store, I got mostly things for my manly side. With my diet I am no longer snug in size 15.5 necks, I am actually comfortable in 14.5 which was my size for years. Good to have less chins to accommodate. I got two short sleeve dress shirts and three polo style shirts, two with new tags on them. None over $4. I also got a pair of male running shorts by Adidas. I was reluctant to spend the $7 for a pair of used shorts but I only have male knee-length and girl shorts. I am more likely to run en homme than en femme. Turned out that color tag was 50% off.
I almost got a shirt for the 12 year old that said "Will work for shoes" but decided that was more about me than her. Speaking of shoes, Dee got some red strappy heels, a pair of tie on sling backs, some spectator pumps. We got a dress to share, and one for me and a couple for her. I got a handful of ties but they didn't make it home :( not sure why I think I set them down.
Passed on a handmade desk with a repair done to a broken hinge. The hinge repair has to be 40-50 years old at least. The actual piece looks like something someone cobbled together out of old really wide floorboards. It was kind of rustic but interesting details. It had little cubbies and drawers and slots under the angled lift top. I noticed the piece was actually nailed together, but what made it interesting was I think the nails were hand-forged. really interesting, but what to do with somehting like that. Plus thats 40 pieces of clothing on dollar day.
I almost got a shirt for the 12 year old that said "Will work for shoes" but decided that was more about me than her. Speaking of shoes, Dee got some red strappy heels, a pair of tie on sling backs, some spectator pumps. We got a dress to share, and one for me and a couple for her. I got a handful of ties but they didn't make it home :( not sure why I think I set them down.
Passed on a handmade desk with a repair done to a broken hinge. The hinge repair has to be 40-50 years old at least. The actual piece looks like something someone cobbled together out of old really wide floorboards. It was kind of rustic but interesting details. It had little cubbies and drawers and slots under the angled lift top. I noticed the piece was actually nailed together, but what made it interesting was I think the nails were hand-forged. really interesting, but what to do with somehting like that. Plus thats 40 pieces of clothing on dollar day.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Barbara's shopping continues unabated.
I had field work to do in an adjacent town of our metropolis. I forgot cameras batteries. Searching for a store that I could get some, I ran across a Goodwill thrift store I hadn't seen in years. I made a mental note and went back to finish the inspection. Afterwards, I went in and told myself I was just going to find an Asian collared dress to trade Dee out of the dress I like.
I took pictures of the dresses I thought she would like but none were quite what I needed to effect a trade. I was browsing the dresses when they reminded by loudspeaker that all purple tags are $1. Changing tactics, I started grabbing everything with a purple tag that was my size or Dee's. I got a pair of black silky pajama pants and a dress for Dee as well as a couple of fun items, one of which is probably the right size. Most of the dresses Dee's size were pretty picked over, none of the relatively cute ones were purple tags.
I reluctantly passed on six little black dresses in my size because we bought me an LBD the other day, and I can't really see where I am likely to wear one, but they looked cute. I grabbed several dresses for me including one that said size 14 but looked smaller than that. It turned out to be a girls 14 so it became property of our twelve year old tho loved if. I got two men's sport coats in 100% wool. I got a size 8 brown leather skirt that I can squeeze into if I don't breathe. I got a pair of size 10 black slacks that are too big in the hips, but with padding, might help my proportions. I got a size 8 pair of pink slacks by Talbot's, so of course I had to get it. Even though the name I chose had nothing to do with the store, I find I do kind of favor their style.
In the dresses a three fit great, one fit ok at top but was a little chunky looking lower and just wasn't that cute on. One totally isn't going to fit but I insisted Dee zip me up. It looked so good on. I was convinced that another 5 or 10 lbs would squeeze me into it. Dee, without being catty about it, explained that it isn't going to fit right even if I lost more. The binding is mostly in the ribcage area and although I am almost an 8 on my lower 1/2, the size 14 top even with-out any padding isn't likely to shrink much. I think this is just one of those male frame / female frame things I'm going to have to live with. One red bandanna dress feels really good on, just snug in the right places. I am going to have to re-visit my sewing skills at some point if I am ever going to get good fitting clothes.
I am hovering at 142-143 lbs these days down 25 from when I started dressing en femme about 3 months ago. I think that may be about as light as I realistically can go and stay healthy. I would like to swap about 15 lbs of fat for 10 lbs of muscle. Its going to take exercise to do that, and I am too blasted weak from being calorie low to do that. The hottest summer on record here hasn't helped either. I think I'll go make myself tat rib-eye steak I have in the fridge and do some sit-ups while it cooks.
I took pictures of the dresses I thought she would like but none were quite what I needed to effect a trade. I was browsing the dresses when they reminded by loudspeaker that all purple tags are $1. Changing tactics, I started grabbing everything with a purple tag that was my size or Dee's. I got a pair of black silky pajama pants and a dress for Dee as well as a couple of fun items, one of which is probably the right size. Most of the dresses Dee's size were pretty picked over, none of the relatively cute ones were purple tags.
I reluctantly passed on six little black dresses in my size because we bought me an LBD the other day, and I can't really see where I am likely to wear one, but they looked cute. I grabbed several dresses for me including one that said size 14 but looked smaller than that. It turned out to be a girls 14 so it became property of our twelve year old tho loved if. I got two men's sport coats in 100% wool. I got a size 8 brown leather skirt that I can squeeze into if I don't breathe. I got a pair of size 10 black slacks that are too big in the hips, but with padding, might help my proportions. I got a size 8 pair of pink slacks by Talbot's, so of course I had to get it. Even though the name I chose had nothing to do with the store, I find I do kind of favor their style.
In the dresses a three fit great, one fit ok at top but was a little chunky looking lower and just wasn't that cute on. One totally isn't going to fit but I insisted Dee zip me up. It looked so good on. I was convinced that another 5 or 10 lbs would squeeze me into it. Dee, without being catty about it, explained that it isn't going to fit right even if I lost more. The binding is mostly in the ribcage area and although I am almost an 8 on my lower 1/2, the size 14 top even with-out any padding isn't likely to shrink much. I think this is just one of those male frame / female frame things I'm going to have to live with. One red bandanna dress feels really good on, just snug in the right places. I am going to have to re-visit my sewing skills at some point if I am ever going to get good fitting clothes.
I am hovering at 142-143 lbs these days down 25 from when I started dressing en femme about 3 months ago. I think that may be about as light as I realistically can go and stay healthy. I would like to swap about 15 lbs of fat for 10 lbs of muscle. Its going to take exercise to do that, and I am too blasted weak from being calorie low to do that. The hottest summer on record here hasn't helped either. I think I'll go make myself tat rib-eye steak I have in the fridge and do some sit-ups while it cooks.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
2 girls, all new wardrobes for $43.
I love thrift stores. Dee had to run an errand and I convinced her there were several thrift stores on the way. We never made it to any of the others after the first one.
It has some "siddifi-cent" racks out front of the about to be dumpstered, picked over, clothes. Dee really enjoyed going through them and saying, "Too big", "No that's a large", "Oh no, thats MUCH to big!". Her diet is going fabulously well. We have discussed that since Barbara's coming out we have both done really well.
We found some staple tops, Dee found a cute zip front sweater top. As we were about to leave they brought more out, and then more. We kept trying to keep up with the ugly stuff, and THEN they mention that it $1.01 day EVERYTHING in clothing is $1 and we are wasting time on the 65 cent junk. Grabbing a cart we went in.
We each got a little black dresses. Mine was a little small maybe a size 8, but really stretchy fabric so I went with it. Dee got her a little small as an incentive to keep on her diet. Dee got a really beautiful midnight blue full-length dress with an offset back slit and a Asian collar. It is a little small for her for now so I generously offered to model it. She seems to think I am planning on stealing it. It is a great dress, but she did say it is more my color, If I can find a similar dress in red, she'll trade me. That dress will be mine!
Dena found the cutest little red hooded poncho. "Little Red Riding Hood, I really don't think you should..go walking through the deep dark woods alone..." I found a guys thinsulite lined, trench coat misfiled with the women's coats. Then I found a classic women's overcoat, pulling it out I checked the tag, 100% camel hair for $1! then I found another in a wool mohair blend. Dee got a great womans navy pea coat.
OK it was not shoe day, but as Dee says, I am a shoe whore. I really tried to feed my male side, but none of the shoes were even remotely interesting. I settled on the least offensive some white loafers, that Dee assures me they are hideous.
I found a nice pair of basic white pumps in a medium heel, a pair of strappy white mules. Dee got some great classic black patent leather pumps that remind her of the clothing from "Mad Men". Dee found a pair of 9 1/2 inch womens loafers which she tried on and said fit her because they were narrow. I said go ahead and get them when she pointed out they were from Talbot's which has become an inside joke because of Barb's last name. I figured I would borrow 'em. I misunderstood she did mean them for me so that $10 to the Barbara side of the column.
I found a tennis racket for an upcoming photo shoot idea we had.
total $43. The fun we had..priceless.
It has some "siddifi-cent" racks out front of the about to be dumpstered, picked over, clothes. Dee really enjoyed going through them and saying, "Too big", "No that's a large", "Oh no, thats MUCH to big!". Her diet is going fabulously well. We have discussed that since Barbara's coming out we have both done really well.
We found some staple tops, Dee found a cute zip front sweater top. As we were about to leave they brought more out, and then more. We kept trying to keep up with the ugly stuff, and THEN they mention that it $1.01 day EVERYTHING in clothing is $1 and we are wasting time on the 65 cent junk. Grabbing a cart we went in.
We each got a little black dresses. Mine was a little small maybe a size 8, but really stretchy fabric so I went with it. Dee got her a little small as an incentive to keep on her diet. Dee got a really beautiful midnight blue full-length dress with an offset back slit and a Asian collar. It is a little small for her for now so I generously offered to model it. She seems to think I am planning on stealing it. It is a great dress, but she did say it is more my color, If I can find a similar dress in red, she'll trade me. That dress will be mine!
Dena found the cutest little red hooded poncho. "Little Red Riding Hood, I really don't think you should..go walking through the deep dark woods alone..." I found a guys thinsulite lined, trench coat misfiled with the women's coats. Then I found a classic women's overcoat, pulling it out I checked the tag, 100% camel hair for $1! then I found another in a wool mohair blend. Dee got a great womans navy pea coat.
OK it was not shoe day, but as Dee says, I am a shoe whore. I really tried to feed my male side, but none of the shoes were even remotely interesting. I settled on the least offensive some white loafers, that Dee assures me they are hideous.
I found a nice pair of basic white pumps in a medium heel, a pair of strappy white mules. Dee got some great classic black patent leather pumps that remind her of the clothing from "Mad Men". Dee found a pair of 9 1/2 inch womens loafers which she tried on and said fit her because they were narrow. I said go ahead and get them when she pointed out they were from Talbot's which has become an inside joke because of Barb's last name. I figured I would borrow 'em. I misunderstood she did mean them for me so that $10 to the Barbara side of the column.
I found a tennis racket for an upcoming photo shoot idea we had.
total $43. The fun we had..priceless.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
A couple of more pictures
Still from our photo shoot yesterday. Just wanted to add them because I am an attention whore. Funny Barbara likes the camera, and the other guy can't stand posing or pictures of himself. Dee's evil plan is to desensitize me en femme mode to the camera so she can sneak up en homme and get me to pose as my handsome self. I think I'll play hard to get for a bit longer. Tell me I'm pretty...
How to get from A to B fast with heels.
Carry them!
Last week I was thinking gender bending in my clothing choices. I wore women's dockers to church (I know weak) but I did pair them with women's loafers in a glove leather. While putting that together at a series of thrift stores, I came across the perfect en femme 'Sunday shoes'. Mind you I would NEVER wear them to church, but its a giggle to think about it. They are spectator pumps I came to know after the fact. (Thanks, Stephanie). Black toe, black heel with wide ankle strap, cut-away instep and white band above the toe with a punched hole detail like on wingtips.
4" heel but a little wider heel than I like, but I found I cant even walk in actual stilettos yet. I have spent a lifetime noticing women's shoes and watching them move in them. Turns out that doesn't help with actually wearing them.
So a few days ago I strapped on the spectator pumps. Next I wriggled into my black leather skirt, briefly arguing with Dee that yes, I know the tag goes in the back but there's only one slit and that wouldn't put the slit in either the front or the back. She explained that on short skirts the single slit over the leg is better at making it walkable than a slit in the middle which actually doesn't help. I slipped on a cute "dove for" stretch top that I nabbed out of the bag before my 12 year-old clothes horse. Finally, I hopped on the treadmill for practice.
I found that anything over 1.3 mph and my gait gets really awkward.
"So," I ask Dee,"how does your gait change in heels when you have to move quickly in heels? What do you do differently when you have to move fast?"
Simple she says..you take them off.
For the record I managed 4 mph without breaking an ankle or (worse) a heel.
I didn't maintain that pace of course. I worked on my deportment for a while.
I haven't yet walked a mile in a GG's shoes, but I did manage a 1/2 mile. Most surprising thing was how little ones calves have to do with walking in heels, Ironic because calves look so nice and athletic in heels.
When we did the photos yesterday, I brought the spectators also even though Dee frowned on the pairing with the dress. The shoes in the pictures I like,but I once tried to walk 1/2 a block to the mailbox and came home crippled. I found this time after the treadmill practice and wearing thicker hose, they were tolerable, and more importantly, cute.
I started walking down the slope with the thin heels spiking into the soft, wet ground and with a grin followed Dee's advice and took them off. I asked Dee to get a shot of me heels in hand to prove that I indeed can learn.
Last week I was thinking gender bending in my clothing choices. I wore women's dockers to church (I know weak) but I did pair them with women's loafers in a glove leather. While putting that together at a series of thrift stores, I came across the perfect en femme 'Sunday shoes'. Mind you I would NEVER wear them to church, but its a giggle to think about it. They are spectator pumps I came to know after the fact. (Thanks, Stephanie). Black toe, black heel with wide ankle strap, cut-away instep and white band above the toe with a punched hole detail like on wingtips.
4" heel but a little wider heel than I like, but I found I cant even walk in actual stilettos yet. I have spent a lifetime noticing women's shoes and watching them move in them. Turns out that doesn't help with actually wearing them.
So a few days ago I strapped on the spectator pumps. Next I wriggled into my black leather skirt, briefly arguing with Dee that yes, I know the tag goes in the back but there's only one slit and that wouldn't put the slit in either the front or the back. She explained that on short skirts the single slit over the leg is better at making it walkable than a slit in the middle which actually doesn't help. I slipped on a cute "dove for" stretch top that I nabbed out of the bag before my 12 year-old clothes horse. Finally, I hopped on the treadmill for practice.
I found that anything over 1.3 mph and my gait gets really awkward.
"So," I ask Dee,"how does your gait change in heels when you have to move quickly in heels? What do you do differently when you have to move fast?"
Simple she says..you take them off.
For the record I managed 4 mph without breaking an ankle or (worse) a heel.
I didn't maintain that pace of course. I worked on my deportment for a while.
I haven't yet walked a mile in a GG's shoes, but I did manage a 1/2 mile. Most surprising thing was how little ones calves have to do with walking in heels, Ironic because calves look so nice and athletic in heels.
When we did the photos yesterday, I brought the spectators also even though Dee frowned on the pairing with the dress. The shoes in the pictures I like,but I once tried to walk 1/2 a block to the mailbox and came home crippled. I found this time after the treadmill practice and wearing thicker hose, they were tolerable, and more importantly, cute.
I started walking down the slope with the thin heels spiking into the soft, wet ground and with a grin followed Dee's advice and took them off. I asked Dee to get a shot of me heels in hand to prove that I indeed can learn.
Wigging out...
Ok, I don't even know where to start.
We had a day out in the sun taking pictures. I put the wig in a dove for Samsonite make-up case and wiped off the make-up before coming home to the older kids. The kids had seen the wig in the closet before, and been told to leave it alone.
Today they were exploring and found the wig in the make-up . They knew that I had found the case out diving some night and somehow got it in their head that they had "found" a new play-toy and were in process of playing dress-up with it.
We retrieved it, Dee dodged questions about whose wig and why we have it. The smart answer would have been it's Dee's and its for fun or when she doesn't feel like styling her hair.
The kids suddenly said nearly in unison, "Put it on Dad!!!" Dee looks at me for ascent which I give. I play dumb and put it on backwards. Our least femme child points out how it should be put on. I turn it around, and Dee reaches for the camera. Always on the look-out for a family photo. "OK kids pose with Dad...."
The kids HOWLED wit laughter. Then the 8 year old (boy) says, "Me next! Me next!". Dee said NOOOO...go on now, shooing them out. We talked and (as I thought) her objection was they were ruining my wig not of course the fact that the boy wanted to try on a wig. I told her I had no objection and didn't want him to feel like we were saying no on the basis of being a boy. We called him back in and he just BEAMED when Dee placed the wig on his little round head. He rushed to the mirror and said I look just like __________ (the 10 year old who is currently opposed to all things femme.)
What about a dress? He pressed further. Dee and I were Dying laughing inside exchanging knowing glances and wide open mouth gestures when his back was turned. First he wanted the peach jacketed dress Dee wore to church. She explained it was too large for him, so glancing around the closet he ZEROED in on a butter cream jacketed dress that Dee and I got for me at the very same time that we got the peach one for her. We steered him away from the only dress that would fit a little black cocktail dress of mine.
As an aside if you aren't a regular reader here, I also like dumpster diving. I recently had several boxes and bags of clothes, we donate the ones that no one can or will wear. We had some really frilly things that out 10 year old girl won't consider in the to be donated box. Dee grabbed that. I expected that it be a little much for him,. He couldn't wait and pulled it on. He wanted shoes Dee suggested a conservative pair. He wanted my clear 6" stripper heels.
Dee asked him how he felt in the dress. He said, "MMMOMMMM, I wear dresses ALL the time!" Shocked, but trying to hide it we casually asked, um, when is it that you have before. He explained that they didn't have a wig, but that he used to play dress-up with his sisters all the time from the costume box. We had forgotten about that but he hadn't. It has been at least 2-3 years since his sister had any interest in playing dress up with him but both his sisters from when he was 4 or so and they were 6 and 8 used to let him play with them. He even asked for and got his own Crissy doll.
I was moved at seeing his exuberance at being able to dress-up. I don't really think this is a truly transgendered issue, but him being able to have fun with it meant a lot to me with my horrific experience at 3 or 4 trying the same thing. Dee had a glint of tears in her eyes as she saw his big smile and pointed out that that could have been my joy if I had been allowed to express myself.
The 12 year-old wanted to get dressed up before she tried it on and now wants her own wig. The 10 year-old wanted to try it on and practice some Dave Grohl inspired head banging moves, but was VERY upset at the 8 year old saying he is her long lost twin (they are the same size roughly) because as she pointed out she would NEVER wear a prissy dress like that!
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Hot, Medium or Mild?
We were out taking pictures and worked up an appetite. I suggested a drive-through. I cleverly had Dee order. I un-cleverly didn't think about the fact that they were going to ask Hot, Medium, or Mild. Feeling meek, I said mild, not even attempting a femme voice. Dee snapped a pic when the girls back was turned. She said nothing but you could definitely see in her eyes that she clearly knew I was not what a glance would have thought. We left just laughing and laughing. I really didn't mind bing read, it was actually kind of more fun that way.
Dee turned as we left and caught her looking after us with a bemused expression she said. Dee claims if I hadn't spoken I'd have passed. She is being kind.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The incomplete history of Barbara from 1968 to present.
I have been unhappy as of late with the current level of sexualization of discussions at my favorite forum www.crossdressers.com and was looking about for other more gender-issue specific websites and came across www.crossdressers-forum.com and joined. I'll be back to my first online home for Barbara, but the new forum looks really good and has a lot of familiar faces. I got on one of my typically verbose typing spasms when I tried to introduce myself. It veered and meandered 1600 words, and eventually morphed from an introduction into a history, so I clipped that and deposited it here, because I loathe typing and can't bear to wast the fruits of two hours of typing. If I had voice recognition software, I'd bury Stephen King and all his many nom-de-plumes in text. In male mode I blather, as Barbara, well the chick wears me out, and I am she!
My history as I currently choose to remember it, by Barbara
My male and dominant persona was born in 1965. In approximately 1969, but more likely 1968 after church, my beloved older sister had taken off her pretty dress in favor of play clothes and placed it on her twin bed of the matching princess style bedroom set of hers that we shared in her room. I too, was later changing out of of my handsome church clothes and looked for play clothes. Seeing her dress I inexplicably and with an impish gleam in my eyes slipped it over my head.
Mocking each other verbally was something we did to the annoyance of our parents. I pictured the effect my new costume would have on the accuracy of my portrayal. I snatched up socks and her black Mary Janes and ruffled socks and examined my appearance in the mirror. Since we had the same brown hair, the same brown hair with the same single blond streak on our left temple, it was remarkable the transformation with just clothes. My next step puzzles me to this day. I reached into the bottom drawer of the bureau and got out a clean pair of plain white panties and substituted it for my jockey shorts.
Wobbling out into the living room to what I thought would be accolades, my mother, eyes wide with horror said, "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING???!!!!"
I said, "Look, I'm _____!" and sashayed a bit. Mom leaped up and lifted the hem of my dress, foam nearly forming at her corners of her mouth. "THAT"S WHAT I THOUGHT......WHERE IS YOUR UNDERWEAR??!!!!!! " and twisting my arm drug me back to my sister and my room. Yanking the dress over my head, and then stripping off the shoes socks and panties, I stood naked before her. Now I knew I was in trouble, IN our house, hyper modesty was the norm. I had had some pretty sever punishment previously over the Barbies, not because I had gotten into my sisters toys, but because I had stripped them naked.
Tossing my underwear to me, She with obvious disgust told me to put them back on. Some vague threats were made of how my father would view this activity when he got home from whatever meeting he was attending. (He BTW at the time had been asked my our church to serve as a volunteer layperson Chaplin for prisoners formerly of our faith who were doing time at Louisiana State Penitentiary.) Grounded to my room, I sat confused, on the bed awaiting my punishment, most certainly going to be corporal in nature. After a time she came back to further confuse me with a over sized load of guilt and shame to the accompaniment of Deuteronomy. A book which contains a lot of rules that my church teaches condescendingly that our Hebrew brethren of Moses day needed because they were not ready for the "Higher Law" and had to be "commanded in all things" at that time.
I learned of my "sin" and the absolute imperative necessity to never repeat such an abomination ever again. This despite the fact that my church scoffs at infant baptism because children specifically below the age 8 are innocent and pure in the eyes of their loving Heavenly Father and explicit incapable of sin as sin requires intent and knowledge. Apparently in my mom's mind the only exception to both Mosaic Law and to Sin by Innocents, is this particular heinous act that is all to close to the Sin that has No Name.
The over reaction not the actual act is what I have always thought of as the genesis of a lifetime of confusion, repression, and varied acting out behaviors in ways as varied as crossdressing, v0yeurism, exhibiti0nism, masturbati0n, objectification, and low self esteem. Of the list of behaviors I engaged in in various forms off and on for the next 38 years, the wearing of women's intimates seemed the most perverted, but oddly was never on the top of the list of things I viewed as compulsive behaviors. On the seemingly unconnected occasions when I would find a swim-suit or a pair of nylons hung up to dry and had the privacy to lock the door and wriggle into them, I would feel a bit silly afterward, but would not picture it likely that I would feel compelled to do so again.
Yet I did. Again and again and again. Interestingly even just masturbation caused me waves of guilt for which I sought professional help for my sex addiction. I did in the context of family and sexual history disclose fully as I saw it my crossdressing activities, but my level of denial was such that it was dismissed as not my primary issue by really good counselors trained personally by Patrick Carnes. I would have agreed with them given the level of information I was able to provide because of the disconnect between the incidents and the other presenting behaviors. They helped me to deal with my feelings of not being able to see the incident with my mom as simply about her and not me.
I spent time in various 12 step groups, compulsivity groups, individual counseling, even did a workbook along with actual indicted or even convicted sex offenders. Their genesis stories were not that different than my own. I often thought that there, but for the grace of God, go I.
I got clean, and stayed clean for a few years. The prominence of the Internet, the need to use it in my job, and the ever increasing amount of pornography on the Internet made it awfully easy to privately and steadily relapse time and time again into compulsive behaviors. My wife, who is pretty open minded and very healthy and secure in her sexuality would not in anyway add to my load of shame and guilt over simple indulgence in the vulgar and the base. My need for secrecy to do so, my voyeuristic obsession and its corrosive effects was always her concern. So I hid, I got caught, I reformed, I yearned, I backslid, I hid, I got caught....in an endless cycle.
4-5 months ago I was again skulking the darkened (in my mind) alleys of places where people expose their predilections and fantasies and even their bodies. I noted crossdressers posting pictures of themselves en femme, and was disinterested in the imagery but fascinated by the replies posted by GG's (genetic girls) who were in their individual cases finding such displays arousing.
My wife, having expressed that she has an unfulfilled bi-sexual orientation seemed as likely as any woman to find this sort of thing if not arousing, then certainly not overly repulsive.
I thought back to both my dressing (really only intimates since that first disastrous experiment) and to the teasing of childhood about feminine characteristics mostly tied to my small stature. I was 4' 11" and 72 lbs entering high school. In hindsight, man could I have passed then! I would have been a petite size zero, and who is going to think tranny when they see a tiny girl in cute clothes?
We interrupt for this:
My wife beside me says if I hadn't grown we never have married. Intrigued I just asked her, too short? She replied, no too thin, I never would have married someone lighter than me. I am currently heavier than my husband and it bugs the heck out of me." She is gaining (well losing actually) on me. She has lost 35 lbs in the last 2+ months to my 23. eventually she plans to lose enough to role reverse and 'borrow' my femme clothes and then lose her way down to put her clothes safely out of my reach. "Betch!"
Back to my regularly scheduled post:
So, I began buying outerwear nervously at thrift stores, and culling my wife's wardrobe, and practicing. I had this bright idea of 'surprising' her with a fully formed "Barbara" on our anniversary which we had already made plans to spend in Las Vegas, combining a family trip, out anniversary, and a visit to one of her online friends.
A couple of weeks prior, she found "the stash", thought I was having an affair with an unclothed woman with poor taste, and began a forensic analysis of my computer. Finding footprints of my male persona acting out she began drawing up divorce papers. At one point she found references to Barbara, even found an online profile with a really bad picture of me in a wig. She couldn't conceive of her fella in a dress, so she assumed the skank was your average home wrecker. A bit later still fuming she found my newly purchased make-up still unused. Doesn't this woman even have her own make-up? ..a few beats...then OHHHHHHHHH. Back to the computer back to the profile and mouth agape she realized Barbara is the dude she has been sleeping with for the last 15 years...
Google google read read, she was relieved to find that in many cases the CD is married, often closeted, often straight. Well, check, check,and check. Still righteously indignant about my secrecy, she fumed (I was camping with the boys at the time). By the time I returned she had prepared her composure to tell me that she was unhappy with the sneaking but wanted to tell me that my dressing is my business and she would not in any way stand in the way.
Emotionally needy, embarrassed, I heard it as she was indifferent and would allow it, but my grand plan for a lesbian weekend in Vegas seemed remote and silly. Feeling small I sulked and planned to put Barbara back in the closet. A couple of days of her gentle encouragement I was able to open up and hear her, and she took me by the hand to a store and bought me some shoes, some clothing, a matching bra and pantie set, and we haven't looked back. No idea where this will lead, but I am very happy and oddly complete at this time.
My history as I currently choose to remember it, by Barbara
My male and dominant persona was born in 1965. In approximately 1969, but more likely 1968 after church, my beloved older sister had taken off her pretty dress in favor of play clothes and placed it on her twin bed of the matching princess style bedroom set of hers that we shared in her room. I too, was later changing out of of my handsome church clothes and looked for play clothes. Seeing her dress I inexplicably and with an impish gleam in my eyes slipped it over my head.
Mocking each other verbally was something we did to the annoyance of our parents. I pictured the effect my new costume would have on the accuracy of my portrayal. I snatched up socks and her black Mary Janes and ruffled socks and examined my appearance in the mirror. Since we had the same brown hair, the same brown hair with the same single blond streak on our left temple, it was remarkable the transformation with just clothes. My next step puzzles me to this day. I reached into the bottom drawer of the bureau and got out a clean pair of plain white panties and substituted it for my jockey shorts.
Wobbling out into the living room to what I thought would be accolades, my mother, eyes wide with horror said, "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING???!!!!"
I said, "Look, I'm _____!" and sashayed a bit. Mom leaped up and lifted the hem of my dress, foam nearly forming at her corners of her mouth. "THAT"S WHAT I THOUGHT......WHERE IS YOUR UNDERWEAR??!!!!!! " and twisting my arm drug me back to my sister and my room. Yanking the dress over my head, and then stripping off the shoes socks and panties, I stood naked before her. Now I knew I was in trouble, IN our house, hyper modesty was the norm. I had had some pretty sever punishment previously over the Barbies, not because I had gotten into my sisters toys, but because I had stripped them naked.
Tossing my underwear to me, She with obvious disgust told me to put them back on. Some vague threats were made of how my father would view this activity when he got home from whatever meeting he was attending. (He BTW at the time had been asked my our church to serve as a volunteer layperson Chaplin for prisoners formerly of our faith who were doing time at Louisiana State Penitentiary.) Grounded to my room, I sat confused, on the bed awaiting my punishment, most certainly going to be corporal in nature. After a time she came back to further confuse me with a over sized load of guilt and shame to the accompaniment of Deuteronomy. A book which contains a lot of rules that my church teaches condescendingly that our Hebrew brethren of Moses day needed because they were not ready for the "Higher Law" and had to be "commanded in all things" at that time.
I learned of my "sin" and the absolute imperative necessity to never repeat such an abomination ever again. This despite the fact that my church scoffs at infant baptism because children specifically below the age 8 are innocent and pure in the eyes of their loving Heavenly Father and explicit incapable of sin as sin requires intent and knowledge. Apparently in my mom's mind the only exception to both Mosaic Law and to Sin by Innocents, is this particular heinous act that is all to close to the Sin that has No Name.
The over reaction not the actual act is what I have always thought of as the genesis of a lifetime of confusion, repression, and varied acting out behaviors in ways as varied as crossdressing, v0yeurism, exhibiti0nism, masturbati0n, objectification, and low self esteem. Of the list of behaviors I engaged in in various forms off and on for the next 38 years, the wearing of women's intimates seemed the most perverted, but oddly was never on the top of the list of things I viewed as compulsive behaviors. On the seemingly unconnected occasions when I would find a swim-suit or a pair of nylons hung up to dry and had the privacy to lock the door and wriggle into them, I would feel a bit silly afterward, but would not picture it likely that I would feel compelled to do so again.
Yet I did. Again and again and again. Interestingly even just masturbation caused me waves of guilt for which I sought professional help for my sex addiction. I did in the context of family and sexual history disclose fully as I saw it my crossdressing activities, but my level of denial was such that it was dismissed as not my primary issue by really good counselors trained personally by Patrick Carnes. I would have agreed with them given the level of information I was able to provide because of the disconnect between the incidents and the other presenting behaviors. They helped me to deal with my feelings of not being able to see the incident with my mom as simply about her and not me.
I spent time in various 12 step groups, compulsivity groups, individual counseling, even did a workbook along with actual indicted or even convicted sex offenders. Their genesis stories were not that different than my own. I often thought that there, but for the grace of God, go I.
I got clean, and stayed clean for a few years. The prominence of the Internet, the need to use it in my job, and the ever increasing amount of pornography on the Internet made it awfully easy to privately and steadily relapse time and time again into compulsive behaviors. My wife, who is pretty open minded and very healthy and secure in her sexuality would not in anyway add to my load of shame and guilt over simple indulgence in the vulgar and the base. My need for secrecy to do so, my voyeuristic obsession and its corrosive effects was always her concern. So I hid, I got caught, I reformed, I yearned, I backslid, I hid, I got caught....in an endless cycle.
4-5 months ago I was again skulking the darkened (in my mind) alleys of places where people expose their predilections and fantasies and even their bodies. I noted crossdressers posting pictures of themselves en femme, and was disinterested in the imagery but fascinated by the replies posted by GG's (genetic girls) who were in their individual cases finding such displays arousing.
My wife, having expressed that she has an unfulfilled bi-sexual orientation seemed as likely as any woman to find this sort of thing if not arousing, then certainly not overly repulsive.
I thought back to both my dressing (really only intimates since that first disastrous experiment) and to the teasing of childhood about feminine characteristics mostly tied to my small stature. I was 4' 11" and 72 lbs entering high school. In hindsight, man could I have passed then! I would have been a petite size zero, and who is going to think tranny when they see a tiny girl in cute clothes?
We interrupt for this:
My wife beside me says if I hadn't grown we never have married. Intrigued I just asked her, too short? She replied, no too thin, I never would have married someone lighter than me. I am currently heavier than my husband and it bugs the heck out of me." She is gaining (well losing actually) on me. She has lost 35 lbs in the last 2+ months to my 23. eventually she plans to lose enough to role reverse and 'borrow' my femme clothes and then lose her way down to put her clothes safely out of my reach. "Betch!"
Back to my regularly scheduled post:
So, I began buying outerwear nervously at thrift stores, and culling my wife's wardrobe, and practicing. I had this bright idea of 'surprising' her with a fully formed "Barbara" on our anniversary which we had already made plans to spend in Las Vegas, combining a family trip, out anniversary, and a visit to one of her online friends.
A couple of weeks prior, she found "the stash", thought I was having an affair with an unclothed woman with poor taste, and began a forensic analysis of my computer. Finding footprints of my male persona acting out she began drawing up divorce papers. At one point she found references to Barbara, even found an online profile with a really bad picture of me in a wig. She couldn't conceive of her fella in a dress, so she assumed the skank was your average home wrecker. A bit later still fuming she found my newly purchased make-up still unused. Doesn't this woman even have her own make-up? ..a few beats...then OHHHHHHHHH. Back to the computer back to the profile and mouth agape she realized Barbara is the dude she has been sleeping with for the last 15 years...
Google google read read, she was relieved to find that in many cases the CD is married, often closeted, often straight. Well, check, check,and check. Still righteously indignant about my secrecy, she fumed (I was camping with the boys at the time). By the time I returned she had prepared her composure to tell me that she was unhappy with the sneaking but wanted to tell me that my dressing is my business and she would not in any way stand in the way.
Emotionally needy, embarrassed, I heard it as she was indifferent and would allow it, but my grand plan for a lesbian weekend in Vegas seemed remote and silly. Feeling small I sulked and planned to put Barbara back in the closet. A couple of days of her gentle encouragement I was able to open up and hear her, and she took me by the hand to a store and bought me some shoes, some clothing, a matching bra and pantie set, and we haven't looked back. No idea where this will lead, but I am very happy and oddly complete at this time.
Monday, August 20, 2007
I need to run.
I used to be a long distance runner. I'm 5' 8" now (almost, all short guys round up) . At the time I was just over 5' tall. I had proportionately speaking long legs and a short torso. I ran JV and sometimes picked up points for the team by showing up if the other team couldn't field three )or more) runners. Occasionally I even won. In any case running is a lonely sport, no fans in the stands, sometimes no runners to run against, Just me gutting it out against the clock. I always found a little extra for that last 100 yards, sprinting past what I had to imagine was a stand full of fans. I ran whether I had a stitch in my side, a pulled hamstring, or a knee remembering a vicious tackle in a touch football game.
I didn't have a lot of self esteem from years of thoughtless bullying and snide comments about my size and less than masculine physique. The track was what kept me convinced that I was in fact a man as much as any estrogen rich chubby football player with his man-boobs masquerading as pecs. Nothing like initially being left behind by the pack at the gate but burning past their wheezing lungs and pained expressions at the 800 yard mark. In a very large school I realized that ther were only maybe 20 guys that could beat me in a mile, and only hard core runners could beat me at 2 miles. My record for 400 meters was 72 seconds. My mile time at 5:14 was not earth shattering but for my age and height it stands as a pretty impressive display of heart and lungs. Especially for a boy that was small because of childhood bronchial asthma. 72x4 is 4:48 I only lost 26 seconds from an all out sprint. No one can sprint a mile. My 2 mile time at 11:34 was nearly 2 sprinted miles less one minute.
I had high hopes for speed as I grew. As it was the tallest of the varsity runners took 2 strides to my 3. The coach already thought I was striding to long as it was. When they ran 10 miles, I took the same number of steps as 15 miles. I ran 5 miles every morning before school, then I kicked the football teams ass for a mile, then back off campus for another 5 miles of roadwork.
That was the only year I ran with a silly dishwashing job taking my time the next year. As I grew it was all torso, so now I have proportionately short legs. A motorcycle accident, 6 months on crutches, 2 years on a cane ended any real thoughts of a comeback. Eventually I learned to jog, but it wasn't the same, no clock, no goal, no thrill.
In the last few years after years of having no say in how light I was, I slowly crept up in weight to 168. I was horrified by the picture I took when I was trying to improve my crossdressing look. I set a goal of 145 lbs. A couple of months later, this morning I achieved that goal. I am already aiming for 135 now. It feels good to feel I have some mastery over my body again. I think I might be light enough to begin light training without injuring my leg. Running robs your upper body of tissue in favor of feeding the legs which will help my blouse size get closer to my skirt size, but its gonna cost me my little man-boobs. I can live with that.
I didn't have a lot of self esteem from years of thoughtless bullying and snide comments about my size and less than masculine physique. The track was what kept me convinced that I was in fact a man as much as any estrogen rich chubby football player with his man-boobs masquerading as pecs. Nothing like initially being left behind by the pack at the gate but burning past their wheezing lungs and pained expressions at the 800 yard mark. In a very large school I realized that ther were only maybe 20 guys that could beat me in a mile, and only hard core runners could beat me at 2 miles. My record for 400 meters was 72 seconds. My mile time at 5:14 was not earth shattering but for my age and height it stands as a pretty impressive display of heart and lungs. Especially for a boy that was small because of childhood bronchial asthma. 72x4 is 4:48 I only lost 26 seconds from an all out sprint. No one can sprint a mile. My 2 mile time at 11:34 was nearly 2 sprinted miles less one minute.
I had high hopes for speed as I grew. As it was the tallest of the varsity runners took 2 strides to my 3. The coach already thought I was striding to long as it was. When they ran 10 miles, I took the same number of steps as 15 miles. I ran 5 miles every morning before school, then I kicked the football teams ass for a mile, then back off campus for another 5 miles of roadwork.
That was the only year I ran with a silly dishwashing job taking my time the next year. As I grew it was all torso, so now I have proportionately short legs. A motorcycle accident, 6 months on crutches, 2 years on a cane ended any real thoughts of a comeback. Eventually I learned to jog, but it wasn't the same, no clock, no goal, no thrill.
In the last few years after years of having no say in how light I was, I slowly crept up in weight to 168. I was horrified by the picture I took when I was trying to improve my crossdressing look. I set a goal of 145 lbs. A couple of months later, this morning I achieved that goal. I am already aiming for 135 now. It feels good to feel I have some mastery over my body again. I think I might be light enough to begin light training without injuring my leg. Running robs your upper body of tissue in favor of feeding the legs which will help my blouse size get closer to my skirt size, but its gonna cost me my little man-boobs. I can live with that.
Dave Grohl in panties may have saved my marriage.
Sitting next to Dee this morning, she is indoctrinating the baby with Foo Fighters videos. She pointed out that Taylor has a femme name in drag. (Tayla). Got me thinking about how much she enjoyed the crossdressing in "Learn to Fly" and "Everlong" she used to laugh with delight at 'Wacky Dave's" sense of humor and how secure he seems in his masculinity to do it. This is long before I came out to myself much less to her. When she found my stash I hope it was "Everlong" playing in her mind, not "Low".
Like father like son...
My eight year old boy is most exuberant in his sartorial expressions. He has no hesitation in mimicking his sister or clomping around in mom's (well or dad's but he would think of them as mom's) heels. His delight on finding a pair of pom-poms in our bedroom is a story in itself.
Placeholder for the story about how they came to be in our room with commentary about how accepting Dee has always been about his dress-up fun even before either she our I knew I would have any interest in actively CD-ing.
Placeholder for the story about how they came to be in our room with commentary about how accepting Dee has always been about his dress-up fun even before either she our I knew I would have any interest in actively CD-ing.
My journey to apostacy and back in a day.
Place holder for story about my concerns about treatment of GLB members in the past. Dee helped a lot with understanding that people are people and people weren't ready to be tolerant then. Doesnt excuse it but, makes the softer more inclusive verbiage of today easier to reconcile.
Story ends with me sitting in the office at church chatting about my journey whilst wearing my navy chick version of dockers, girls microfiber trouser socks, and girls loafers and quite comfortable with both myself and the church.
Story ends with me sitting in the office at church chatting about my journey whilst wearing my navy chick version of dockers, girls microfiber trouser socks, and girls loafers and quite comfortable with both myself and the church.
A-thrifting we will go
Saturday, I mentioned to Dee that I really need new Sunday-go-to-meetin' pants and suggested we hit a thrift store. I don't really think either of us really thought that was my primary reason for wanting to go. The baby was in need of a nap, and she suggested there was no reason I couldnt go myself. I pointed out that the problem was I wouldn't be by myself, Barbara the shopaholic would no doubt follow me down the aisles. "Good point," she said and grabed the baby and her purse.
At The Salvation Army, I reluctantly passed the women's tops, skirts, slacks, and clear at the back to the men's pants. That whole store has pretty good prices but not the best organization. They just throw the clothes on the racks in broad categories without regard to size. Ive found better organized loads of clothes in dumpsters!
I was getting frustrated, then settled on a tactic. I would look for fabrics that I liked then quickly eyeball it for size. If it was obviously too big, I'd move on o the next, if it seems close I'd pull it off the rack and dig for a label. This didn't work that well because I guess I just don;t have a very good eye for size. Finally I found a tan pair of Khaki's that looked like a pair I already have with frayed cuffs. I checked the label, size 10! Misfiled. Leave it to Barb to find the chick slacks in the haystack. Next pair was a navy pair of dockers, Size 10!. Amused, I pulled it off the hanger and held it up to my ever-shrinking waistline...it looked about right. I was wearing a long pair of tan, side zip womens shorts in size 12 that I had to wriggle into. The size 12 was roomy for my non-existant hips and snug in the waist.
I think I have mentioned that since the incident of the girl jeans at age 14, I haven't tried anything on. Now it is a fun bit of naughtyness to slip into a dressing room in a store and slither into a skirt or slacks or to slip a dress over my head. Off to the dressing room I go. I put them on and not only do they fit in the waist the inseam fits. I think basically Dockers has a big pile of 32x30 pants and they slap a size 10 label in some and a 32x30 label in others. Other than maybe an extra inch in the hips they hang no differently than menswear. Only the next day when I tried to put keys in my pocket did I detect any difference.
BTW whats up with girl pockets. I get it that chicks don't keep rubber bands, loose change, frogs and the like in their pockets, but why have 'em at all if you are going to short-sheet them?
Dee was in charge of keeping Barbara muffled in her purse where she also had my wallet (NO pockets in the tan chick shorts I was wearing). I rejoined her only to find that she had located a red, polo style, shirt-dress in a flirty length for me, and a peach colored Liz Claiborne top that Barbara assumed was for her but upon inquiring found that Dee had planned it for herself.
It was 1/2 off day and there was a NICE art deco buffet that we have no room for so we passed on a $35 bargain. While Dee waited in line, I walked the baby. I snuck over to womens skirts to fondle some pleats. I royal blue Adidas tennis skirt caught my eye. I thought initially it was an actual cheerleader uniform. It was very well made, and size 10! Confidant (pre-maturely) that I had dieted down to a 10, I grabbed it and handed it without comment to Dee who was in the middle of a very long line. She gave me a tolerant smile but didn't quite suppress the eye roll.
~place holder for the rest of the shopping day~
Flat dress loafers at Goodwill maple dresser for $19 Wing-tip heels
Dress at DI and Schoolgirl plaid for Dee
Sunday peach dress for Dee.
WalMart Fundies for Dee.
At The Salvation Army, I reluctantly passed the women's tops, skirts, slacks, and clear at the back to the men's pants. That whole store has pretty good prices but not the best organization. They just throw the clothes on the racks in broad categories without regard to size. Ive found better organized loads of clothes in dumpsters!
I was getting frustrated, then settled on a tactic. I would look for fabrics that I liked then quickly eyeball it for size. If it was obviously too big, I'd move on o the next, if it seems close I'd pull it off the rack and dig for a label. This didn't work that well because I guess I just don;t have a very good eye for size. Finally I found a tan pair of Khaki's that looked like a pair I already have with frayed cuffs. I checked the label, size 10! Misfiled. Leave it to Barb to find the chick slacks in the haystack. Next pair was a navy pair of dockers, Size 10!. Amused, I pulled it off the hanger and held it up to my ever-shrinking waistline...it looked about right. I was wearing a long pair of tan, side zip womens shorts in size 12 that I had to wriggle into. The size 12 was roomy for my non-existant hips and snug in the waist.
I think I have mentioned that since the incident of the girl jeans at age 14, I haven't tried anything on. Now it is a fun bit of naughtyness to slip into a dressing room in a store and slither into a skirt or slacks or to slip a dress over my head. Off to the dressing room I go. I put them on and not only do they fit in the waist the inseam fits. I think basically Dockers has a big pile of 32x30 pants and they slap a size 10 label in some and a 32x30 label in others. Other than maybe an extra inch in the hips they hang no differently than menswear. Only the next day when I tried to put keys in my pocket did I detect any difference.
BTW whats up with girl pockets. I get it that chicks don't keep rubber bands, loose change, frogs and the like in their pockets, but why have 'em at all if you are going to short-sheet them?
Dee was in charge of keeping Barbara muffled in her purse where she also had my wallet (NO pockets in the tan chick shorts I was wearing). I rejoined her only to find that she had located a red, polo style, shirt-dress in a flirty length for me, and a peach colored Liz Claiborne top that Barbara assumed was for her but upon inquiring found that Dee had planned it for herself.
It was 1/2 off day and there was a NICE art deco buffet that we have no room for so we passed on a $35 bargain. While Dee waited in line, I walked the baby. I snuck over to womens skirts to fondle some pleats. I royal blue Adidas tennis skirt caught my eye. I thought initially it was an actual cheerleader uniform. It was very well made, and size 10! Confidant (pre-maturely) that I had dieted down to a 10, I grabbed it and handed it without comment to Dee who was in the middle of a very long line. She gave me a tolerant smile but didn't quite suppress the eye roll.
~place holder for the rest of the shopping day~
Flat dress loafers at Goodwill maple dresser for $19 Wing-tip heels
Dress at DI and Schoolgirl plaid for Dee
Sunday peach dress for Dee.
WalMart Fundies for Dee.
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