Not your Mother’s Tuesday Lunch Bunch

I promised on Facebook the other day that future posts here on Voyages en Rose would take on a lighter aspect. The last couple of servings have been pretty heavy and I fear that I am liable to crease my poor forehead with thought. Happy therefore, delighted in fact, to have a frothy and tasty day to report on. Long time readers may remember a couple of mid-week, mid-day musical frolics at The Heretic here in Atlanta that I chronicled here and here early Spring of this year.

Well, Tuesday Lunch with Miss Edie and the unstoppable Sue Nami have remained a recurring feature of high society calendars, and I found time to trowel on the maquillage, preen my way into a skirt and totter out on the town yesterday to catch up with all the fun. This event was super special and not to be missed in so far as it was dear Miss Edie’s birthday. Miss Edie is unknown to you? Let me make a short, glowing introduction that cannot even begin to shine light on a fraction of the dazzling facets she shows the world:

Miss Edie King is a mathematician and physicist by academic training, an engineer going by resume and job descriptions, a singer/songwriter, guitar picken' entertainer by vocational calling, and an inveterate tinkerer/inventor by forces of nature that cannot be contained within her youthfully slender figure and equally young outlook. In her spare time she is on staff at The Heretic, and does the odd bit of outreach to sociology departments looking for domain experts on matters of gender.

A really laudable life. I will not tell you how old she turned yesterday. She ridicules time just living as fully as she does. Apart from celebrating her birthday by serenading us yesterday, she was getting ready for an afternoon of final QA runs on a Tesla Device she had crafted from baling wire and willpower over the last 15 months. Reliable, zero-carbon footprint power generation is the big idea. Go ahead, get busy, and top that. With or without the thigh high 4” stiletto boots. I double dog dare ya.

Did I mention she sings with a sweetness that would knock Willie Nelson off the bus?

Sue Nami, resplendent in Red Chiffon, with boobs sometimes in a different zip code than her butt, and a pink bouffant beehive hair-DO threatening the very existence of ceiling fans wherever she gracefully glides her 6’6” of towering Technicolor gorgeousness sat in and backed up the effort on keyboards. My iPhone snaps just do not do Sue justice. You will simply have to see for yourselves.

Very much possessed of a classic Southern church musical upbringing, Sue happily shamed sinners and heaped musical praises on all God’s Children, hallejulah and glory be. She furthermore engendered a general swell of the tip jar/collection basket, baritone booming in a beautiful duet of Amazing Grace performed with a middle aged tenor from the audience whose adoring wife looked on with pride, quiet loving pride.

It was all so moving that I simply had to take the air. I moved outside to bathe in the patio sunlight and to bathe as well in the company of and complements of Mary Kay Beaver, a charming, touring burlesque performer who was taking a lunch break from her gig across the road at The Dollhouse. While I was marveling at her complexion and being introduced to her multi-talented professional entertainer friends, she was tapping me for hosiery tips. I had to agree that the Wolford Leos I had on were a look she could pull off, or at the very least encourage other people to pull off for themselves, in exchange for high denomination gratuities. We agreed that the Stay Ups would suit her aesthetic sense, choreographic potentials and the expectations of her adoring audience better than the Tights I was styling, in my more modest way. Validation, dear friends, when a working dancer comes to you for wardrobe advice. I am still blushing.

Yes, my newish Wolfords (reviewed here) were very well received, and with the cooler weather now upon us, I must say that of my prior concerns about their relative warmth were overstated. They looked great, and I felt great wearing them. I suspect that the Wolford shop up at Phipps Plaza had a little clatter of traffic later in the day that was perhaps more colorful (and bosomy too) than their typical clientele.

The rest of the ensemble, a new leather skirt, a simple silk blouse and the usual tonnage of stylish bling borrowed from the always tasteful Mrs. Bellejambes cache of Weapons of Mass Adormnent. Thanks hon! Your are the very best. Forgive the blurry snaps. I am unable to find the good camera and am using the back-up device, a 1.2 megapixel behemoth that was state of the art early in President Clintons second term of office. Bill and myself have aged better than the camera methinks.

Old friends Ramona and Gabrielle kept an eye on my matching leather jacket and purse while I surfed a few tables, had my palm read by an eerily prescient seer and had a lengthy chat with Irene, proud author of a recently published novel foretelling the end of the American Empire. While I do not share her enthusiastic, heartfelt belief that the gradual erosion of 2nd amendment rights is either happening or likely to contribute to our eventual enslavement, I am always deeply admiring of people who labor at writing. Hats off to you Irene, and no, the ivory cable knit, cowl neck tunic is never, ever wrong, and don’t let them tell you otherwise. Just be sure to lay it flat after a gentle hand washing. If you do forget and throw it into the dryer, let me know. I may be able to slither in to it.

Miss Edie, Sue Nami and friends will be back at The Heretic Nov 16. This event is absolutely unique on the planet. No cover charge, free BBQ, wear what you like. Nobody will glare at you unless they are mad jealous about your outfit. My kind of place, my kind of peeps in short. If you are in Atlanta do what you can to be there too, en Femme, drab, guy, gal, straight, gay, tall, short, black, white and everything in between. If you live elsewhere, but have a friend here in town, tell them to come for you. I’ll be there for shootin’ sure, praises be.

Now, what to wear, what to wear…..

The return of Petra’s Pantyhose Parade. Tight spots.

I have much love for Wolford. Supreme sorcerers of sheer, titans of tights, these mad Austrian alchemists routinely, ceaselessly turn mere Lycra, Nylon and Elastine into the very stuff of leggy dreams and ask only for vast sums of my hard earned money in return for their valiant efforts. In truth, they don’t even ask, indeed, barely raising an eyebrow to somehow wordlessly compel the pennies from my purse.

Bless their Edelweiss garlanded hearts.

The Wolford Annual Summer sale is over and shelf space has been cleared for the beguiling Fall/Winter collection. The ready-to-wear line is out of reach to me so long as my negotiations with the International Monetary Fund for a massive capital infusion remain stalled. My recent adoption of an all cereal diet however made it possible for me to justify the purchase one pair of tights from the new releases just in time for my own Fall/Winter chrysalis, the end of the Summer Drabbatical and the fully feathered return of Petra (ta-Da).

Meet Leo. Hot you say? Yes, indeed, and in more ways then one.

You see, the Leopard pattern effect (Jaguar? Cheetah? Ocelot?? ... somebody help me out here...) is quite substantial. It is not painted on or woven seamlessly in. It has the hand feel of a flocked velvet burn out and sits in slight, tangible relief from the sturdy, semi-opaque base fabric. I suspect that this 50% polyester construction is an engineering necessity. In order for the jungle beast pattern to keep shape and appear proportional on the leg, a base fibre that maintains structural integrity is required. And from an engineering perspective, dear friends, it works. The pattern lays perfectly on the leg. They look smashing. Truly.

But back to the whole hot thing. The nylon simply does not vent heat or wick moisture. They look “hot” yes, and they feel it too.

This represents a real departure from prior joyful and loving experiences with Wolford. Typically, Wolford feel like magic. Typically, how the Wolford look (as good as they look) seems to me a secondary consideration. Typically, when wearing Wolford, you really don’t give a damn what the rest of the world thinks. Wolfords are all about you.

Gliding in to a pair of Wolford’s is very much the hosiery equivalent of Alice and her fabled looking glass. One falls into a new world, a very immersive realm of the senses, particularly the sense of touch. A lovely spot to visit. Inside a pair of Leo’s however, one does not, and cannot pierce the looking glass. What is in the mirror looks great, but Alice does not get her boarding pass for the flight to Wonderland.

With that said, they are built to endure, this Queen of the Jungle will prowl all night, and no doubt hold form for years. All of the fabled care in manufacture one expects from Wolford is there. Well reinforced at the toe and cupped at the heel they are built to avoid pre-game blowouts. The boot portion is expertly graduated and adheres superbly to the leg. There is a strong bias in the weave against over-stretching. The wide, comfortable and perfectly finished waistband sits snugly and stays exactly where told.

They are available in a variety of color combinations, including black on black, black on fern (pictured top), and your correspondents pick, black on ecru (pictured with their soul mate skirt at right). If you prefer a thigh high to tights, Wolford has you covered. If your toes are simply too divine to not have on display, a footless legging is yours for the taking too.

If you do splash out on Leos ($65.00), I salute you. You are treating yourself well. Do me a small favor though and drop me a line when you are planning on wearing them out. Two of us in the same room would be a bit much. I want to avoid cat fights wherever possible.

Closing now on a personal note today, I am off to start a couple of weeks of vacation. I will be elsewhere (a very beautiful elsewhere) but I am mostly going to be off the digital grid. See you in September…

After the M.A.C. Attack

I do hope readers will forgive me. Here I am, a busy week later recollecting events at a too slothful pace. Undoubtedly the contents of my mental purse will topple out crazily, and I will lose some of the pretty details. Too busy with the rest of life I suppose. Nevertheless, when I hit the pause button on last weeks trip out for a little facial treatment, I was just strolling out into Lennox Square, looking pretty well in my estimation. At the very least I was feeling well. Lets rejoin the moment here now.

Shoes are all important, and while I do have a penchant for a perilously perched pair 4 inchers (love what they do for the calves you know) I had my mall-ready 3” closed foot pumps, easy on the hard tile floors and for the long distances ahead. The rest of the ensemble, DK sheers, a very high waist stretch lace skirt, and my old favorite Danskin body suit, back-zip turtleneck top. Clingy would be the correct adjective.

Toute l’ensemble is pictured below. Please be kind. I am not much of a photographer, for starters. Take that truth, add a new camera with a flash with a mind of its own, a moody timer mechanism, impossibly small operating buttons, me hampered by false nails, and the results are predictable. I even managed to make myself look like I have a belly, which friends would tell you is simply not the case. And the smile, someday I will learn, I promise.

First stop, Neiman Marcus. Now don’t think for a moment that I am on this kind of a budget, but I must say the aisles here are wide, and the shop is never too, too crowded. This is a great setting to get into the moment, and really fully occupy your best feminine mind-space before really wading out into the busy world. Plus, they do have very nice things there, and not all of them requiring a 2nd or 3rd mortgage.

For instance, the highly desirable Wolford Flora Tights (pictured right), which typically retail at $55.00. I managed to pinch a pair for a mere $19.00, and had a nice chat with sales assistant about leg wear and maintaining ones appearance in the midst of a sad economic decline. Courage my dears.

Now friends there is a lesson – do pay attention here: If you want a little more comfort and ease swanning around in a mall en femme, I can tell you from personal experience that having a needlessly big Neiman Marcus bag slung over your shoulder goes a good long way. This is the shopping equivalent of spinning up to the valet station in a Bentley I suppose. I felt good before. Now, I felt bulletproof.

A little scour of Ann Taylor yielded nothing from the racks, but pure gold from a human interaction perspective. The unfairly beautiful sales assistant, six feet tall in socks at least, and happily perched on the 4” pumps I referred to earlier, as I was nearing the door on the way out hailed me:

“psssst … your outfit, is that a dress or a skirt”

“skirt, the top is a separate”

“gorgeous. I love it!”.

Well, we simply had to chat. She was surprised to learn that the skirt came from JC Penney, which I took to be a complement, even if the folks at JCP don’t. She was happy to report that the AT spring line was going to be just stuffed with things that she thought I would love and that would look beautiful on me. Just a nice, genuine, warm welcome, which seems the norm at this lovely shop, however I am dressed.

I am not sure though that I could have had an equally easy and natural chat with her in guy mode. This towering African beauty was an absolute stunner. A traffic stopper. "Drab" me would have stammered or perhaps gaped in a daft and offputting way. New discoveries about this cross dressing life it seems are always just around the corner.

The much vaunted Victoria’s Secret Semi Annual sale was either fully picked over, or fully stocked with unwearable, unattractive dreck. Moving quickly on, and towards the exit out of Macy’s. I paused to pull my coat back on." Thanks for visiting Ma’am", in a very friendly way from the Macy’s staffer. My first Ma’am! A milestone of sorts, and one that I think I wish upon you all. It was high time for a glass of wine.

Paris in Decatur is a little bar not too far off from home that, until recently catered to the Lesbian set but, unknown to me, had recently switched current and been reborn as a Gay bar. Welcoming of thirsty and sociable people of all denominations of course, but pretty uniformly male on the evening I dropped in.

Travis, the operator of this fine establishment lamented a little about how difficult it is to create a setting where all the different tribes just get along. It is a shame. I tend to like rooms with variety, but here at least there was entertainment.

A regular Paris Thursday fixture is live karaoke, featuring a super-skilled pianist with an inexhaustible inventory of Great American Songbook standards at the tip of his fingers. Of the half dozen songs I stayed for, at least 4 were performed by guys who really knew how to belt out Gershwin, Rogers and Sondheim, and other personal favorites. No cover charge, just a tip jar for the Piano Man. Superb value.

One of the hosts of the evening was an Elton John impersonator whose voice ran to more octaves than I have shoes. He actually makes a living doing Elton, perhaps not in the way he dreams, but doing Elton nonetheless. We traded notes on music in general and chatted between sets. It was one of those encounters you really can’t plan to put in your life, a little surreal and weirdly natural all at the same time. A professional impersonator chatting with an amateur one.

I am going to make Paris an occasional stop – you simply cannot beat live music, and anyone looking for tips on skin care could do worse than taking notes from a well preserved fellow at an upmarket gay bar. Really, I need all the help I can get. If you do live in Atlanta, go visit. You will feel welcomed. Work on getting a song down well, and some nice man will buy you a drink.

More nice stuff soon.

Happy dressing and everything else…

Petra’s Pantyhose Parade – The Year of Living Hosiery: Part 1

In December of last year, realizing that I needed regular features to return to in order to build useful, regular blogging habits, I started a still enduring Thursday feature, Petra’s Pantyhose Parade. I was not sure at the time what I knew, but was very sure what I liked and had forever.

Hosiery. Tights. Pantyhose. The sheer stuff dear friends.

Putting names aside for a moment, I am not hung up on the term pantyhose. For me it is too utilitarian a word. It does not capture the imagination in the same way that the garment captured mine, ensnared me really in my very young, very impressionable days. What an impression, One with me still, and I suspect, forever. Clearly, a name for this regular blog post was required. I settled on Pantyhose mostly because of the alliterative possibilities presented with Petra parading about. Thusly, was Petra’s Pantyhose Parade conceived.

I suspected that this was a deep realm, a cool fashion well that would never run dry. I saw in my minds thigh a sheer and endless river of nylon and lycra. I felt as though I could cool my toes in this glittering ocean ceaselessly. I believed, moreover, that if I took my time and made good notes, I could genuinely develop a shapely body of work, free of blemish, that might help us all make better, smarter and more fashion forward choices for our legs. Beautifying the world, one happy gam at a time. I have not been disappointed. I have now tested and opined upon 20 pairs, and the horizon gets further away each week. I do not lack for choice. Yumm.

I do lament however that fewer and fewer genetic women share this passion with cross dressers. Pantyhose seem to be thought by many to be a chore, only borderline comfy, and not in most circumstances absolutely required to complete an outfit. When given the option for bare legging it, many, too many do. Hosiery sales have been in decline for years, and outlooks don’t predict a rebound. That leaves less to admire for all of us, and the loss of a truly feminine touch in the everyday world.

From many comments on these posts, and correspondence with friends of this blog, I have learned that my passion, while pretty vivid, is not unusual. For many of us, this frail, powerful amalgam of inner and outerwear, this quietly private choice, this sometimes brazenly displayed enticement was at the very start and remains at the very heart of our sometimes difficult but always electrifying journey. This gossamer thread has the strength of Spiderman’s web and is perhaps stickier

So 20 reviews thus far. 20 is a good number: fingers and toes. Its time to pause and reflect before I lose count. General observations today.

Control Tops dominate the shelves, and as a result, the rankings. I sense that they dominate the shelves because clingy, body conscious fashions demand slimming effects, and if you look around, so do many too well fed, too poorly exercised bodies. Beyond that, I tested a good number of control tops because they do have a beneficial effect for cross dressers who, like me, pad up to achieve more attractive curves. Control tops help smooth it all out.

Wine and Pantyhose have much in common. I keep an army of <$10.00 wines on hand at home, and many of them I proudly present to friends. It is a relief that we live in a world where one can get comfortably tight with a $8.00 bottle, while comfortably clad in $8.00 tights. When you go south of $5.00 though, something happens to both. They are still mostly well made, employing state of the art technology and best production best practices, but they lack something. They lack finish. The finish element is to me, more than a certain je ne sais quoi, this quality is the very raison d’être of pantyhose. Be value minded therefore, but do not cheap out dear friend.

We are worth a little indulgence every now and then. There are special outfits, and nights when a spoil is good for the soul. At the very top end, the luxury vendors really are a treat. The highest scoring panty hose (Wolford Luxe 9) garnered an unassailable 47.4 out of an available 50 Petra Points. They felt and looked so good I could barely think. A $30.00 splash out is not a whim for me, but then neither is a $100.00 massage. The massage makes me feel better but doesn’t make me look better. The Wolfords do both and will last longer.

A Girl on a budget can look terrific. Our Gold Medal performer is in fact a $7.50 entry from Hanes (Silky Sheer Control Top) that can be found even more frugally if purchased online in bulk. They scored 31 points out of an available 50. The L’eggs line at $5.00 even shows terrific value in a line of very comfortable, evening appropriate, dress sheers. If you are hard on your hosiery, getting a run does not have to mean a run on your bank.

Durability is not pretty. Run resistant weaves help contain minor snags and help hosiery last longer. These weaves typically though add heat, coarsen finishes and leave the fine but apparent tell-tale horizontal lines across the thighs. So, for the price of a little longer wear, you give up much of the magic. For some, not a bad bargain, but not, for me, a good one. I rather take the approach that if you are mindful of how you are dressed, alert to your surroundings, and graceful in your movements, ladylike in a word, then you will not need the durability that run resistance provides.

Love them, and they will love you back. Runs are ultimately inevitable and costly. If you get fewer of them, your price per wear drops each time out. I have laddered precisely 1 pair of pantyhose this calendar year (the fishnets that got freakishly caught up on my purse). Do these things please: Keep your nails filed, pay attention to the size charts (and go up a size if you are borderline), and use a pair of standard issue rubber gloves to smooth up and really fit your hose perfectly after you have both feet in. Your legs are worth the care.

The chart shown here is a top to bottom ranking of all tested pantyhose with pricing taken out of the final score (click to enlarge). Raw scores out of an available 50, 1-10 in 5 categories. At the top are favorites, and what I would wear always if money was no object. Next week, I will re-order them with price in the equation, and line them up with the “bang for the buck” values highlighted. In next weeks recap post I will additionally provide a little color commentary on the good, the bad, and the saggy of some of the more memorable experiences.

2 quick footnotes.
1.The first two photos are courtesy of a stylish friend, CC over at Couture Carrie. 3rd photo from Worlford.
2. I am drafting today’s post in a Starbucks, and I just spotted a completely healthy, beautifully shaped woman in her 20s with a smartly tailored black cotton, belted shirt dress, wearing a very nice pair of nude sheers. It is presently 80F in Atlanta. This gorgeous girl could have made a different choice, been more comfortable and saved a few minutes earlier today by going bare. Bless her soul, she did not, and the world is prettier as a result. A nice glimmer of hope for us all.

Happy dressing and everything else ...

Petra's Pantyhose Parade - Wolford

Once upon a time, I smoked. Briefly, I owned a Dunhill lighter. It was well tooled. It looked handsome. It felt like something real in pocket and substantial in hand. It lit. Without fail. And then one day, it vanished. Drink is a terrible thing.

I mention this only because I am thinking now of how long it took me to forget my Dunhill lighter. Everything after felt tinny, and then, plastic. And perhaps, as evidenced by this reverie, I have not yet fully recovered from the loss. When a luxurious experience combines with a well developed sense of entitlement, the result is a thing commonly known as a comfort threshold. A new standard that makes all prior experience a pale Polaroid propped up beside an old master.

Luxury corrupts like nothing else. Power, even absolute power, is Cinderella’s ugly sister by comparison. Luxury. Now there is a drug.

With that said, dear leggy friend, I must tell you that this week I misguidedly purchased and just moments ago pulled on my very first pair of Wolford tights.

The Wolford Luxe 9 is an ultra sheer, (yes, the 9 is 9 Denier) super transparent, dress legging. They are possessed of a combination of gossamer lightness and tightness of yarn that cannot be either fully anticipated or easily described with words, mere words. The subtle reinforcement through the panty provides more visual appeal than support, but don’t worry, nobody will be looking at your waistline. The flat seamed waistband vanishes both from a look and feel perspective, and stays in place without need for attention.

They move on your legs in way that you have not felt before. They achieve a smooth glide over and around flexed, bending and striding legs. They hold shape without evidence of effort. They glimmer not. They do not need to. They make you believe with fierce conviction, instantly, that the superb sensations they confer are precisely what you deserve, need and crave for all of your remaining upright earthly moments.

Lastly, they achieve an effect that contradicts logic, and frankly, has me flummoxed. They are invisible, and yet they vastly improve the appearance of the human cargo borne within. What dangerous alchemy has been harnessed bestride the Danube? Who are these Austrian sorcerers? And what magic have they wrung from an otherwise dull periodic table of elements?

These, to me, are not pantyhose. They are a Faustian bargain with a nice light cotton gusset thrown in. They demand an instant upgrade to every other element in your life from purse to pumps. Never, and I mean never, have I felt such an overwhelming urge to shave my legs. Loyal readers of this column (Hi Mom!) will know that I have not yet crossed this threshold. I know now that this is inevitable. And necessary. And dignified. It must be done. My Wolford’s deserve nothing less.

It is too late for me dear reader. I am here to save you. Please, for pity’s sake, buy not the Wolford. For if you do, we will meet, destitute and relying on the kindness of strangers for simpler and now to me, entirely trivial comforts like food and shelter, in our declining years.

Ah yes, and now the ranking exercise. I will confess to having paid full retail of $30.00 in a Neiman Marcus that had everything else under the sun on sale. My scientifically and entirely rational scoring system simply cannot accommodate the magnificence of these superb strumpfhose. Their high ticket price unfairly fetters them into 3rd place out of 6 rated contenders. Please accept my abject apologies for my inability to create a mathematical model that pays adequate tribute to these magnificent pantyhose.

Petra’s Tuesday Traipse – Volume 4

Well, when we traipse, we use our legs. And in that spirit I am turning my gaze south of the waistband and looking at 3 distinct and lovely websites that focus on fashion for the legs. Get your passports out too, we are going global ... if its Tuesday, we must be in pantyhose.

Wolford, the legendary Austrian hosiery haus has been helping women in general and legs in particular look better since 1950. The product line and web site remain fresh, compelling and highly desirable. The finishes on the web site are as good as the finishes on the leggings. I do hope to be buried in the Individual 10 sheers (black naturally).

The site itself is built to polish the brand and not to sell product. The brand is supported in part by slick navigation and page rendering but mostly in the photography. Honestly, these legs look good. And that’s all you get here. And for me, well that is plenty. Love the site. For those of you who are in the income bracket to afford Wolford, bareneccessities.com has a great selection and the best prices you will see anywhere. For more fun, take a weekend in New York and visit the shop on Madison. Yummy.

From Austrian fabricator to Canadian retailer now. Shapings.com is located just west of Toronto and does a global trade in hard-to-find luxury and specialty leggings. The merchandise selection is broad and the prices seem right. Shapings does not put a lot of work into creating a gorgeous web site, but they are clearly passionate about pantyhose, they roam the globe looking for great hosiery, and will ship to you wherever you are.

Additionally, a visit to Shapings is worth it for anyone who simply wants to know more about tights in general. Exhaustive glossary section, and o by the way, an indispensable tutorial on how to put on pantyhose. Believe me, even if you have been in tights since you were a tot, you can learn something you will love here. Lastly, the nice people at Shapings are happy to cater to the CD / TG crowd, and that must be applauded.

Lastly today, a very happy find in England. Please visit one of my favorite blogs “Too Many Tights”. A dedicated legging enthusiast and fashion professional posts often, pushes the fashion envelope and even (little drum role please) fabricates tights for sale. It is refreshing to see some old-fashioned guild / craft approach being taken to making any sort of product in our mass produced and anonymous times. That some of that care is dedicated to tights just makes me feel so much better about our future as a species. Go ahead and pick up this RSS feed and enjoy.

Again, nothing in any of this but my desire to share what I find along the way. Please send me your favorite sites (even if it is your own). I’ll never find everything I want to see alone!

Petra's Pantyhose Parade

Well friends, for many Crossdressers, this love started with hosiery. They always made legs look better. They were clearly garments that we boys were not supposed to wear. They were around the house in good enough quantities that if you liberated a pair from the laundry hamper, well who will notice, right? And when you pulled them up and on, O... The feel, the give, the look, the electric tingle, that even decades later just never goes away.

We love them as well because they can be worn discreetly in drab. When on, pantyhose remind us that they are there with the forgiving, but always felt, pull in the toes, the caress around the thigh and that smartening of the shape at the waist, hips (and everywhere else important).

For me, they are at the heart of my feminine side and a borderline fetish. And I am ok with that. I hope you are too. Because I propose as a regular feature of Voyages en Rose to review pantyhose and to share my findings with you my friends. I will take a scientific approach to pantyhose scrutiny. I will consider the quality of the the tested product keeping these all important characteristics in mind:

Fit: Are they true to package size chart. Are they comfortably snug all over? Do they sag with wear?
Finish: Do they look like a quality product? Do they flatter the leg?
Durability: Will they last more then a wear or 2? Did they ladder on first wear?
Feel: Just like it says. Is this smooth and luxurious or scratchy and dying to be peeled (or ripped) off?
Style: Are you Red Carpet ready? Are they au-courant? Are they timeless? Are you fabulous?
Obscures Hair Score: This is a big consideration for many of us. Petra in particular. Yes, I don't shave. I have never felt my legs smooth inside a quality sheer legging. I have much to live for.

I will apply a 1-10 score for tested hose, average these scores out, divide the average by the price of the pantyhose and multiple the result by 100. This way, inexpensive hosiery that performs well will have a great chance of grabbing a really high rank. I expect that $50.00 Wolfords will score high, but we may get surprised by some house brand offerings in the well under $10.00 range this way. Kind of like wine I suppose.

I will include anecdotes about shopping for my hose. Was the store CD friendly? Helpful with sizing information or product suggestions? All of that good stuff.

And I promise, I will write my reviews while I am wearing the product. The legs can’t lie girls.

This column needs your input too. Please add your comments. Share your experiences. Name your favorites. And name the lame please. If there is a pair that Petra should test drive, I don’t need much encouragement to hit the shops. And if you are a rep for a nice brand of pantyhose and want to comp me a pair or a container load full, I must warn you that I cannot be corrupted. But your generosity will be noted to my many leggy friends!

So file those toe nails – its time to get started!

Pantyhose Parade – Issue # 1.

Earlier today I asked a panel of experts (a chat thread over at The Cross Dresser Club) for advice about finding a nice glamorous pair of hose that does a nice job of covering my leg hair. The lovely and helpful LisaElizabeth immediately suggested Danskin. This is not the first time I have heard that the Danskin tight does the trick. And I am a lover of their leotards (second skin, lovely stuff). So the Shimmery Opaque tight (Danskin Model # 1331) is under the microscope (and around my nether regions) this evening.…

This afternoon I dropped into Atlanta's Dance Fashion Warehouse to test drive a pair or 2. I had called ahead and the nice woman with the vaguely eastern European accent was able to put my size and color selections on hold. I was not explicit that they were for me but I did not actively dodge the issue. I said hello when I arrived at the shop, but not relaxed enough to completely out myself and get to know the store, the people and the merchandise better. I will confess, my day job was getting in the way again. I promise to do better next time….

In any event, I asked about return and exchange policy in the event that they did not fit me, and she indicated that as long as they were in unopened packages, a full refund or exchange was available to me. So, yes I am out to the DFW (and I will be back).

At suggested retail of $12.50, these are a reasonably priced offering when you consider that Danskin makes gear for dancers who really put their tights through paces. These are clearly made to last and to endure hard wearing. You know when you handle them that they are simply not going to develop runs unless you get snagged fleeing a mob and needing to leap a chain link fence.

This durability and sureness in the fabric lends itself to a good (not great, but good) fit and feel scores. There is a good amount of elastic (9% spandex) and a high denier opaque finish so a good tight fit is to be expected. And fit is key to comfort. After 2 hours of wear, I have not felt the urge (ok I have not felt the need, I have given in to the urge) to hike them up at all.

These are all good things. It goes downhill though. From a style perspective, well there is nothing beyond the most generic look about them. And that is ok. It’s a pair of plain tights after all. It’s the finish that gets me though. Perhaps the “Light Toast” shade is just a little too close to the old fashioned bologna skin pantyhose look that the older Italian widows used to wear in my neighborhood. Perhaps the light bounces off them in a way that reminds me of the tights that girls in elementary school wore before they figured out how to flaunt their abundant assets. I just don’t think they bring the glamour. And that is a shame.

Now don’t get me wrong. The black tights will work terrifically. And I can work the fleshy shade into an outfit with a low boot, stirruped leg warmers, a big long sweater and a shawl over it all, but I don’t think these are tights that can stand a nicely heeled shoe, a pretty skirt and a night out.

So how do these babies score? Well they get 70.4 Petra Pantyhose Points. Today though, we have nothing to compare that to, so who knows how good they are. Stay tuned here for more updates. I swear to God girls, we can know everything there is to know about tights, and then who will dare stand in our way?