Aug 19, 2009

Shameless self-promotion. Cross Dressers edition

Friends have encouraged me to share some of my secrets. Let me recapitulate here a recent request:

“Petra dear …however did you make your modesty so excellent?”

But wait, there is more:

“Petra Bellejambes, I swear you are so demure that everyone notices. How do you draw attention to your shyness?”

One blushes of course, and labors on. Courage, dear friends, courage … sometimes it is all we have.

And now to the promised (ed. threatened?) self-promotion. It is entirely without shame. Most of us have shopped at
Victoria’s Secret. It might not be your very favorite shop, but I have always been treated well there (drab and en femme), and found the garments to be well made. I greatly appreciate too, their tireless, underwired contributions to the general abundance of cleavage visible to those of us who respectfully admire such works of natural feminine beauty.

They are pretty savvy marketers too, and I have fallen prey to one of their traps. I hope to lure you in with me. You see, in their efforts to boost bustlines, and sales, Victoria has created a nice contest around the launch of the new Body by Victoria line of brassieres. The winner will be whisked off to New York for a little weekend of shopping, preening and general luxury. In short, just my idea of fun.

Entry was easy. Provide a picture, and a few words about why one loves ones own body. And so I did. Linked here:

The winning will be enjoyed by the VS enthusiast whose entry garners the most votes in this very democratic scramble for the goods. Much more civilized, don’t you agree, than the purse-flailing, rib-bruising melee that is the annual Filenes Basement Running of the Brides event.

And so, having put my excellent modesty, and radiant demureness away for a brief moment, I place myself at the mercy of your kindness, dear friend. Please vote for me. It would mean a great deal. I fully expect to see my vote counter dribble up into the high teens, and to watch my hopes crumble again against the sheer, cold, vertical, facetless face of reality, as prettier, and better connected girls run away with what I oddly believe to be my rightful inheritance. But we should at least have this much fun, ne c’est pas?

And think for a moment … if there is some sort of weird cross dressing planetary alignment, and this lingerie enthusiast emerges holding the bouquet, would that not represent a tiny, confident, open and outward step for all of us?

In return, I can promise only a series of gushing blog posts detailing the entire weekend if you put me in the winners 3-way mirror. Brunch at the
Plaza. Cocktails at Bemelmans. Full-throated and profanity laced shouts hurled in utter futility at the disappearing taxi --- all the magic that is our Manhattan.

And I do encourage you to enter as well. Pass me a link in this posts comments section if you do. You too, will have my vote. Let us storm the pretty ramparts together, arm in arm, in a mighty clatter of heels, so daintily loud as to ring the very heavens themselves.

Again, that link:

Progress updates here in the fullness of time my dears.

Thanks in advance, happy dressing, and happy everything else.


Gabrielle said...

You've got my vote, Petra. Only one more heart/love point, but one more than was there before. The odds of winning are slim, but you are more than deserving of the reward and I can't think of anyone who would truly enjoy it more.

Good luck, my friend. :)

Leslie Ann said...

I turned you up to eleven, just like Spinal Tap's amps. I think it would be grand to have you turn the world of women's finery on its noggin.

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