A Cross Dresser's Exciting Three Way

Shameful really, what some bloggers will put in a headline to juice traffic a little. For those of you expecting a salacious tale of bedroom acrobatics, well I am not that kind of girl. Take heart though, the internet was practically invented for you.

For the rest of you, dear friends all, the 3 Way refers to the mirror, or rather I should say The Mirror. A topic worthy of a long post, long even by my lax standards. Perhaps a pee break would be indicated now before you settle in for a read. You see, yesterday, Petra curled her index finger and cast the rest of me a come-hither look that I had not the strength to ignore. So I (we???) went out last night and got in front of a few of them. Mirrors, that is.

I have blathered on here about how much of a high it is for me to be accepted in exclusively female environments – wig salons, shoe sale racks, the aestheticians counter at Macy’s, Nordstrom’s or what have you. Wonderful places where, freed from the presence of guys, women find their natural, unguarded selves, their truest voice. This is the voice I love best.

That voice can be found in the hushed, hopeful hall at the back of the shop, that well-lit warren of far-from-the-Office cubes, the runway of runaway shopping impulses, the Fitting Room area. First stop, Dillard’s at Atlantic Station for a quick run through their BCBG Max Azaria boutique. I have been lusting for some months now after a beguiling skirt of the clingy, flashy variety pictured here. The gorgeous sales assistant pulled the last one from an off the beaten track rack when I described what I hadn’t found.

“Oh yes! The foil skirt … we have one, hang on… yup, your size too!”

And then disappointment as she toddled the trophy back to me …

“O no! there is a tear in the waistband …”

I suggested that I should at least try it on for size, and think then about picking it up online.

“Oh yes, you will love it, cute, cute cute…”

There is an invisible membrane between public shopping spaces and private changing places, a membrane that repels the fellows. I love passing through it.

The door closes, the bag is hung, the jacket draped, something is peeled off and something new is pulled on. And if that something is not a total disaster, the 3 way calls. The Big Mirror down the hall. You see yourself walking towards it, running all the calculus, does it fit, what would I wear with it, is this really my silhouette, don’t I already own this ….?

You will have quietly resolved the thousand questions by the time you step up on the small riser, strike a pose, look left and right, up and down, front and back with the one question left … is this my skirt (dress, blouse, jacket, etc…)?

“Oh my God but you rock that skirt … you like?”

“Like? I love it (hands smoothing skirt, a little shimmy, knees together…), shame about the tear…”

“You know that must have come from some girl who had no chance of getting it past her knees. Honestly you would not believe what gets ruined before it even leaves the store”

“Really? ,,, ouch ( reset the waistband, turn 90°, regard ass over right shoulder) … too too bad”

The second shop assistant walked in ..

“Uh huh, you like? … I thought it was too stiff for me….”

“Yes, o yes … ( hands on hips, standard female comic superhero stance)… Love it.”

More conversation of a similar ilk followed, I continued to flirt with the wounded skirt I knew I would leave behind, stripped down and dressed up again, waving so long. It wouldn’t be fishing if you struck every time you dropped a line I suppose…

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I went to drop a line down the road at Ann Taylor. The Friends and Family 40% off every loving stitch in the place sale was on last night. AT is always a top shopping experience for me. Quality, current, and classic, I believe that AT has the pulse of the maturing contemporary woman better than any other major retailer, at least in this part of the world. You would be mad to not be signed up for the email specials.

Love the shops too, wide open eye-lines, loads of space between the fixtures, none of that awkward butt-brushing, shoulder-to-shoulder rack rifling typical of most shops. Ann Taylor is just a stately place. And the fitting rooms? Bigger than many New York studio apartments. Yummm.

After the usual “Welcome to Ann Taylor” salute from the staff and a slow wander / ponder about, the nice assistant asked if she could set a fitting room for me, relieving me of the rapidly building pile folded over my arm.

“Thanks, of course. Let me see grab a couple of other things … see you there in a tick.”

“Take your time … I’ll just leave the twill slacks on your rooms door, ok?...”

OK, indeed. I grabbed one more pair of slacks, asked for the stacked platform giraffe print bootie and retired to my private space. While changing the tap-tap-tap on the door heralded the arrival of my shoes, but you know it is ok to pull the door open in a half-dressed state here.

“Here are the 8 ½’s, hope you like them!”

Out to the long hall, prowling, dead center the length of the walk up to the riser, pretty much convinced that the pants were not for me and my fellow shopper hailed me with a nice smile …

“Give me a zip up please, would you?”

A dark complexioned woman, nearly dressed, early 30’s with stunning grey/blue eyes, a rare sighting of one of the universes most extravagant displays of beauty, gestured towards her back. The royal blue knit dress with the dropped waist was a little full on her to my eye as I fastened her in, but she was more concerned about the short hem.

“O no, the length is great. Opaque tights and you are fine. And the blue, o my god it makes your eyes just pop! I think it looks great, but you … you not convinced are you?

“I just don’t know. It is my color, but…. I don’t know….”

“I like the cut … it’s not for me though, I like a higher waist line..”

I helped her then with the unzipping, and we each retired to our private reserves. The style chit chat continued over the tall walls, and we both made a few forays back out to the racks trading views all the while. There were a couple of men there, attending their wives, fidgeting uncomfortably, privately wishing the Mayans would move the end of the world up a couple of months and just end it all, now. Not us girls.

I saw the skirt at the cash desk, opined that I liked it, hadn’t seen it in my size and asked did they have one for me? Yes they did, and I settled into the work of imagining a top for it. My new friend pointed at the ruffled cami and said that would work. That was not available in Petra dimension, but I did spot the glitter, metallic thread long sleeve crew neck that I thought might just work.

I was completely on the scent now, arms and legs moving like a veggie dicer, off with old, on with the new, cinch the belt back on, and now triumphantly back to The Mirror. Perfect.

She did not have to say a word, just smiled and nodded. She was in fact trying the same skirt on, truthfully to lesser effect. I felt it was simply too big on her.

“What size is it?” I asked.

“Two”

“Petite right?” (She is about 5’ 2” tops, and the skirt hit at knee where mine was right where I like, about three above the knee.)

“It has a lot of stretch to it dear (hands circling rump) Try the zero, it will work and you will feel soooo good about wearing a zero, admit it…”

“O god, you know me too too well… and that top, I would not have picked that … great outfit”

I was finished by now, and glowing even before I realized the bargains I had won. The $130.00 skirt and the $80 top for a mere $58 after all the markdowns.

I waved goodbye to my stylish sister, and waded back out into the evening air, into the wider unsuspecting and mostly uncaring world. I was armed against worry in part by the bag hanging from my shoulder, striding happily along the busy sidewalks, happy couples and lurking lads, everyone looking everyone else up and down, top to toe. Atlantic Station on a Saturday night is very much a place for people watching, and some did watch me.

I was particularly charmed by the young woman who dropped her boyfriend’s hand for a moment to touch my hot pink flared-waist jacket and tell me she loved it. I told her she was sweet and that I loved her hair. She gave me a quick hug and a wink and carried on down the road with her flummoxed fellow.

A short drive home, a glass of wine, the slow disrobing, the long shower, the many layers of exterior washed off, folded away, leaving the more familiar exterior surfaces of the guy visible. The interior things have a longer, deeper impact though, feeling it very much this morning. I revel in my privileges, and feel tuned up, in touch, at peace.

Simply had to share that with you today. Thanks for staying with me.

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For those of you who are curious to read a little more about what is going in my fashion life, I have been busy as a beaver over at Guilty Pleasures. The audience there is a tad more … mainstream than you dear friends, but we all share an interest in the looks beneath that flatter the rest of the ensemble, and help us all feel as beautiful as we can.

I encourage you to visit often, and especially encourage you to check out the many fine vendors I have been delighted to work with. For the complete body of Petra Guilty Pleasures essays, simply click here. Recent posts include some terrific hosiery finds (including the wonderful Cecilia de Raphael’s, pictured at right), and a wild, happy variety of all the pretty things a woman needs.

Happy shopping friends.

Five for ’10, Part III: The Joy of Shopping

The full time woman has, it seems to me, a life time to develop a signature look, a style sweet spot. I imagine that this is a gradual and glacial learning process, sedimentary layers of progress, a long slow bake of hits and misses. For women inclined to caring about style, the learning opportunities abound. Shopping in the company of friends, and talking about clothes is so much more a socially acceptable, indeed expectable behavior for the fairer sex than it is for the less fair.

Therefore I submit, dear friends, that those of us who come around to possession of a female wardrobe by, shall we say, less than conventional means, are desperately handicapped in the style sweepstakes. As with many things in life, overcoming a handicap takes thought, patience and determination, trial and error, and above all, practice, practice and more practice. 

I practiced like quite the possessed young thing this past year. The practice has paid off in what I have to say is the signature achievement of the year for me. I have become consciously competent at knowing what to wear.

Patience is the primary virtue now, and patience pays off at the sales counter. I was impatient once this year. I responded to a swoon impulse and came home with a tunic I love, but dammit, I paid full retail, I still feel poorly about that. The sting diminishes when I consider the following Top Five steals, staples and statements, my best shopping moments of the year.

Up Top: I have a couple of silk shirts for guy wardrobe, and I have to confess that I always feel just a little suspect when wearing them, as though I am engaged in something unmanly, engaged in something unsavory. I don’t have any hang ups about unmanly, but unsavory catches rather in my throat. Rather a shame really, because I quite like the feel of silk. Here the life of Petra is a real bonus. A silk blouse is cool, it glides, no preening, all polish. Mine, from Ann Taylor at a 78% discount from a $90.00 full retail tag down to $20.00. Well made, it will last years and not date. I already have it down to $6.67 / wear. Couldn’t help going back out the next day to grab the purple one.

Down Below: More purple. Purple is a color that feels the same way in my drab wardrobe as silk does. I have purple, I just don’t feel like I fully own it, it is a color that takes dominion over my personality, and so guy me shies away from it. Again, rather a shame, because it is a gorgeous color and suits my complexion well. And again, Petra to the rescue, loving the whole regal vibe that comes along the color of Queens. I extended my license to wear purple to my feet this year, finding in late spring in the clearance racks at Macy’s a terrific, classic closed toe pump with a 3 1/2” stiletto (just my style) marked down to $20.00 from $70 for a 71% win.

‘Round the Middle. It is tough to pick a single bloom from the crowded garden. I am ashamed to admit that I own 18 skirts and all but two of them delight me. As a garment class, my average skirt retails for $82.00, and was purchased for $19.00. I think in hindsight that my first move away from the severely tailored, classic pencil cut into a more contemporary, clingy, knit style skirt was a big step for me. This was the garment that convinced me that I could and should dress young. This revelation broadened my horizons considerably, So hats off to the I.N.C. grey and black bandage skirt, retail $79.00, discounted 72% to $23.00.

On the Legs. It took me until November of last year to finally get around to trousers. This seems, in an odd way, to be a slightly seditious form of cross Cross Dressing. In any event, I wrote about the whole happy ordeal here if you missed it first time around. Having a couple of pairs of smart strides broadens my potential range considerably. Clearly it is not possible to practically and convincingly inhabit la Monde Féminine in skirts and dresses alone. Finding a pair of classic, low waisted, 5 pocket style stretch denims on my first attempt was a huge win. Finding them at $15.00 down from an original sticker of $69.00 was practically a heart stopper.

On the Town. It is fitting that my last transaction of the old year should be the most triumphant one. The first (real) Little Black Dress. This is a real threshold purchase, right up there with first knickers, first breast forms, first wig, and other big firsts. The LBD is a totemic item, it is bequeathed with social significance. Light as a feather, yet possessed of a power to stop people in their tracks. This frothy number certainly stopped me in my tracks in late December at Ann Taylor. A strapless cascade of tulle ribbons to mid-thigh, a luxurious merengue of femininity, originally listed at $250.00. For reasons that passeth understanding a small clutch of these beauties survived a seemingly endless series of markdowns, all the way to a mere, laughable $30.00. I happened upon my LBD on a +40% off day, and so picked it up for pennies under a practically insulting $18.00. I won’t have much on when I wear this to a gala evening at SCC later this year, but the dress is bound to be the least costly part of the ensemble. I am still shocked, and delighted to have had such good fortune on such a seminal first find. O, it feels like a million bucks, and I must say, looks rather fetching too. On the model too.

I will close with this thought: Shopping is, for most people, in and of itself, a pretty shallow undertaking. I think though, that shopping has the potential to be something of value and meaning to, well, the likes of we if we apply a little care to it. Each of these Five top moments in wardrobe building were executed in drab, but called upon every ounce of feminine intuition and aesthetic potential that I am capable of finding. It is good to be able to touch those parts of the self, and cater to them, on demand, without all the overhead that goes into actually presenting as Petra. Not quite the real thing, but it goes a long way in between full immersions, yes?

 I hope you have great luck in the shops this year. Would love to hear of your best wins too. Comments welcomed always.

Shopping for the Special Woman – Part II

In last weeks Part I, I kicked off this mini-series with Five Findings on the topic of shopping, getting better at it, and getting more out of it. The series concludes here today with six more tips that may range from The Bleeding Obvious to the Mind Blowing depending on just how much your purse is bleeding and how much cash you have blown shopping for your prettier half.

If the points that follow are Bleeding Obvious forgive me. I may be witty, but witty is different from clever. Everything I have of lasting value comes from hard work and good notekeeping with the possible exception of my legs. I still don’t know what I did to deserve them.

Here then, to conclude, are six more rules I apply before, during and after the shopping sorties that help Petra feel very well loved indeed.

You have eyes. Plagiarize

Why Google when you can ogle? You are surrounded in your day to day life with real world fashion examples to emulate and to avoid. Take mental notes. Strike up the odd conversation with an innocent question or harmless complement. Drink in what you see on the tube and draped around mannequins. Spend time browsing around style oriented blogs that have absolutely nothing to do with CD/TG issues (some of my favorites are in the right column of this blog in the Fashion, Foundations and Femininity section). You will benefit greatly by cultivating your own criteria for what is beautiful and for what will flatter you. If you think that this comes naturally to women, you are wrong. Connoisseurs are made, not born. Go make yourself one.

Shop. Don’t buy.

It takes time for any learned activity to become natural and reflexive, and this is absolutely true of developing a signature look. Find the time. For those of us who are not 24/7, this means getting very comfortable with browsing shops in drab mode. You must do this. In your apprenticeship you will find (or already have found) that something curious will happen. You will start gradually to lose self-consciousness about being the only guy in the joint. This is good, because that self-consciousness compromises both your sense of fun, and your critical faculties. If you are thinking about whether you are standing out like a stop sign on a ski hill, you cannot handle the complex matrix of determining a garments suitability or value. You will therefore make mistakes. It takes time to get to a place of comfort, then adventure and finally delight with shopping. So get out there and practice. Do it without any expectation or need to buy something. Every hour will make you smarter.

Shop and Buy. Two of them in fact.

Now, Grasshopper, you are learning, and you have snatched the very thing from the rack. Good for you! It is perfect. If you can afford it, you deserve two of them. Get the other color now or somebody else will have bought it by tomorrow. Explore this label further, you will find coordinates and complements, likeness in fit and silhouette. This is your opportunity to score the fashion equivalent of a 7 tile, triple-word score with a Q and a Z in it and win the Shopping Scrabble game conclusively. When you act, act decisively. Responsibly yes, within your means by all means, but admit it, you are going to spend the money, and perhaps less perfectly later. You may as well buy more perfect things and the longer future that you may enjoy together.

Don’t stress the Dress

The Dress is inarguably the tasty cherry at the top of the fashion food pyramid. It is emblematic of feminine fashion in a way that no other garment is. Wanting a great dress is a fine and natural desire. The sad truth though is that dimensionally there is much about dress construction that fails masculine body types. We are fuller through the chest cavity and broader across the shoulders. There is a smaller delta between our waist and hips. We are longer shoulder to waist, and shorter proportionally from waist to sea level. All of this considerably narrows the field of dresses that work well. If you focus on building out a wardrobe of separates, tops and skirts you will have more options and no less an exclusively feminine fashion experience. Never stop looking for the perfect dress, it is out there somewhere, but ratchet your expectations down in this regard and you will save yourself some grief.

The Seamstress is your best friend

Following on the last point, if you find a dress (or anything really) that you must have, make sure it is comfortable at armholes, sleeves and chest, and get the rest taken in. I have dropped off garments pinned and ready for tailoring in guy mode, and I have been fitted en Femme too. A fitting is actually quite a kick, and a highly recommended field trip, documented in part here. Waists that are too big, skirts that are too full or long can be easily and economically remedied. You are deserving of individual attention in this off-the-rack world. And the seamstress deserves a little variety in their day too.

Blend in. Then stand out.

You know what your range is and the kinds places and settings that you can comfortably appear en Femme in. Figure that into your wardrobe building. A perfect and flattering outfit in a setting where it is simply inappropriate will draw attention, but attention of the wrong kind. You will feel this, and confidence will take an avoidable body check. There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to look better than everyone in the room, but even if you can, it is a pyrrhic victory if you win a game that nobody else is playing. What you have learned from plagiarizing comes in handy here. When in Rome, dress as the Roman “it girl” does.

By doing these things you may find it easier to find the clothes that reflect back from the mirror and out to the world the person you want to see.

Happy Shopping

Shopping for the Special Woman – Part I

In this last year of so I have found that my sense of what will look and feel good on me has become better tuned. This is a matter of pride and satisfaction. Any achievement that comes at the expense of practice and thought, trial and error always is.

There is another big, big dividend that getting wardrobe right pays though: Confidence. When you like what you see in the mirror, others will share your conviction. This feeling confers courage and kindles curiosity. This feeling is a passport to places tomorrow that you might not consider today. Worthy outcomes to my thinking.

Like it or not, knowingly or not, what we buy and what we wear is pretty much all that the rest of the world (however big it is) has at hand to form their first opinion about us with. What we wear is an extension of self image. Yes, clothes make the …. (fill in your own blank, I am still working on mine…). Shopping, therefore, especially for the CD/TG set, is much more than blind consumerism, more than a nice way to pass the time. It is a quality of life issue. It can, and should be done well.

I made many wardrobe missteps in earlier, more tentative forays into Cross Dressing. Today still I get it wrong from time to time and always will. This I have in common with absolutely every woman on the planet. But I am doing well enough of late to believe that some of my thinking might be helpful to you. Here are some learnings. Take what you like. Adapt accordingly.

Do not dress your age. Dress her age.

In December ’09, I polled readers about their age relative to their feminine personae. On average we believe ourselves to be 10 years younger en Femme. Embrace this - we are making up for lost time, and there is no shame in that. Moreover, if you are over 40, the ideas you have carried from your youth about what 40, 50 and beyond are supposed to look like are outmoded. Women today are pressured to perpetuate youth in ways not possible or acceptable 20 years ago. That same pressure is on you. If you want to step out as a woman, you will have to get in step with them. Set back your mental odometer, and give yourself permission to shop in venues that cater to younger models.

Size Matters. Sometimes

2, 4, 6, 8, I’ve some of each, they all look great. There is a very loose relationship between labeled size and actual fit. There are many reasons for this, too many to enumerate here. You will do better by knowing your own dimensions, and knowing how to qualify a garment that is still on the hanger. Your key metrics will be shoulder width (point to point), chest, waist, and waist-to-hem. If you have a garment that is a perfect fit in any of these key areas, measure it, and commit those numbers to memory. Carry a tape measure with you. Learn how to eyeball a garment for likelihood of a good fit. If you want to get more scientific about things, I recommend that you register with My Shape. Set 30 minutes aside, grab a tape measure (and a willing partner if one is available), and follow the online exercise.

Accentuate the positive. Eliminate the negative.

I will direct you again back to MyShape. Complete the sizing questionnaire and MyShape will personalize a "look book" for you with the right shapes and silhouettes for your figure. If nature did not provide you with a waist, you can dress around that. If your torso is long, you can shorten it without surgery. There is no figure that cannot be improved in the couple of minutes it takes to get dressed. Everything on the rack is designed to flatter someone and a some of those things will flatter you. Just figure out where your personal lines are, and color within them.

Camouflage never goes out of fashion

If you were ever able to bench press your own weight, you might want to stay away from the cap sleeve blouse. If your cleavage is not convincing, the plunging peasant top is out. If you are a little, bulgy shall we say, through the midriff then you might want more fullness, drape or pleats on that skirt. Forgetting the aesthetics for the moment, if you do not like some element of your body, that feeling will surface mid-voyage and have a negative impact on that whole confidence thing. Therefore, harden thy heart, and be not beguiled by things that expose geographies better left unexplored.

Keep Cool

Women glow. Men sweat. This truth is heightened by a couple of things. If you do not get out often, your nerves will be closer to the surface, and nervousness is a an enabler of perspiration. Then there is your wig. There are breast forms too, hip padding, smoothing layers around the midriff, and likely a layer (or more) of synthetic fabric on the legs. Oh, and the extra work inherent in walking in heels. All of this adds to your latent heat. When you crack a sweat, you lose your confidence. Heat is, to a degree (no pun, really), inescapable, but should not be amplified by your outer layers and other choices. Get a lightweight coat that you can carry on your arm once indoors. Stay away from wooly tops. That black faux-wrap synthetic jersey dress cannot breath or effectively vent. Cotton can be sexy. Look hot, but do not be warm.

These five findings will be followed by another six shortly, adding up to eleven. Not a Baker’s Dozen, more like a Banker’s Dozen. Bankers always get their own cut it seems.

What works for you?

Fall Sewn Up

In a post last week I wrote about a couple of successful shopping excursions. I doubled down and stocked up again this week. I don’t want to be paying retail for new gear when emerging from Drabatical 2010 in September at the SCC Conference. I have been closing gaps in the wardrobe at a great clip lately, but do you know, completion in this matter remains much like the vanishing point of a desert horizon. Forward progress seems not to bring it very much closer in.

Yes, gaps remain in the wardrobe, and I suppose they always will, but I had spied some Fall/Winter 09 winners still on the rails, ready for adoption, and knocked down to near nothing. I promise you this is the last “look what I found”, gloat-a-thon post of the year. I have made this same solemn promise to my budget.

Back to Macy’s again. The previously mentioned ombre bandage skirt from I.N.C. has a big sister, a very sleek scuba-chic number similar to the sunnier summer one pictured here at left with two minor tweaks: Mine is black, all glorious black, and has long fitted sleeves with a nice zip detail from wrist cuff to mid-arm. After all the knock-downs, coupons and such a mere $23.76 down from $99.00.

The black crop jacket I picked up earlier still had a twin of a slightly different complexion left behind, and I think they deserve to be together come the rapture. The twin is a big, high, hot pink and represents a promise I have made to myself to shake up my color palette a tad. Outside of the odd splashy animal print I have picked up along the way, I have been stuck in a dark monochromatic rut too long. I don’t want to wind up looking like a real estate agent with a Goth heart. So, the ruffle collar flared short coat is in, lit up brightly at the same 76% off list, $23.76.

Drab mode, I took these two up the cash register and the very attractive young sales assistant, had a suggestion about a couple of other things she was sure I would like. We did not chat about particulars, but it was quite clear that we both knew that I was shopping for myself. Sometimes one needs a little encouragement to explore new territory, and bless her heart I am glad she provided it. Pictured at right is the faux-rubber mini. A bit young, yes, and a look that is a bit less reserved than I typically go to, but it feels and fits, well … wow in a word. If I ever do any Karaoke en femme, I have an outfit ready to go. $17.70.

I was hypnotized by the skirt well enough to not notice the other little black shawl collar toreador jacket she quietly insisted into my bag. 2 pieces, $40.00. Thanks Katisha!

There is a mathematical problem one is left to solve when working with separates like jackets and skirts. The solution was found in the clearance racks of JC Penney. I have said before that JCP is today a different and much more fashion forward store than the one I remember from youth. Target (love Target) has garnered a lot of publicity in style circles of late with the addition of Zac Posen and Rodarte lines amongst others to their apparel lines, but I swear to my now stuffed closet that JCP is a real competitor.

My problem has (had I suppose) to do with tops. I have not enough. The blouse is the great multiplier element, an inexpensive way to create new combinations and permutations of more expensive staple items. Theoretically, well selected tops reduce the need to acquire costly new staples. In theory I stress. Problem solved, five colorful tops, with a variety of alluring, lace and net camouflage elements, splashes of color, washer/dryer ready, comfy fits and crazy price points.

Total layout of ~ $40.00 for north of $200 worth of tops, tops that are really rich with all the elements that make dressing very special ... full sleeves, suggestive transparencies, sleek silky fabrics, cling here and there, delicate fasteners at neck and cuff. They all work with items in the wardrobe and confer much versatility. I am done. I must be.

All the math, the quantitative $ & cent stuff is in the spreadsheet here. I have been taking note of my purchases in the hopes of learning something, I do not know what, but something at some point. At the very least, being a conscious shopper should help keep things in check, yes? If you measure it, you can manage it, right?

So, yes, there have been some real quantitative wins. What I have learned of late though has more qualitative upside than quantitative. The qualitative stuff has to do with the tasty fruit of shopping well. I believe I have developed criteria for finding things. Those thoughts will appear here next week in the form of an essay (or two) that describes some of the general rules I now carry at an increasingly reflexive level when shopping. These are thoughts that I genuinely hope you will be able to take and remake in your own image, for your own image as you go about treating yourself to the odd pretty thing.

Happy dressing and everything else in the meantime.

Travels on Interstate 8 ½

Shoes, dear friends, hold a quasi-sacred place in the minds of many women, women we know, admire and love. They have always held my attention too. The impact that a good pair of heels has on the stature of a woman, on the gait of her walk, on the shape of her calves, on the sounds in a room is considerable. All the world may indeed be a stage, but when I hear the click clack, I rather think of the world as a runway.

I have shoe obsessed friends. Friends who can talk shoes, and create from mere words perfect pictures of the jeweled and ribboned pumps of their dreams in tones that range from hushed and reverential to crystal shattering squeals. I have observed them flipping through fashion mag photo spreads, absorbing images obliquely and still paying polite attention to conversations whirling around them. And shop, sweet mercy, they shop, whole day-long marathons and lunch break sprints spent cradling, trying and now and then buying a new pair. A new pair somehow different from another pair or four already toppling out of boxes at home. Different in ways that a younger me could not perceive.

Long before my Petra-days, I had a girlfriend with superb fashion sense, an epic budget, terrific legs and chronic lateness. She would stand flummoxed in the foyer wanting, needing me to pick a winner from the two pairs she held dangling by the straps. Typically, I didn’t have the heart for the effort, being more concerned with whether our dinner reservation would be held.

- So, which ones do you think?
- You are gorgeous. We are late. One of each dammit, come on, can we get moving already?

I am happy to report she had a weak throwing arm.

From time to time, I might be in better spirits, and we might have a little time before being unfashionably late. Being a good sport, I might engage and offer an opinion.

- So which ones do you think?
- Both are nice, really, go with the ones on the left
- The spectator?
- Sure, if that’s what you call it
- I don’t think they are going to work
- The why did you take them out of the closet?
- They remind me of the ones I was thinking about wearing
- Then why the hell don’t you have them out?
- They kill my feet
- Why then for crying out loud did you buy them?
- Only because they are perfect! Here, I’ll show you, it won’t take a minute ...
- Please, god no, the ones on the right are fine, really
- Fine. Fine. Did you want me to look fine tonight? Fine is good enough for you?

Vive la difference, I was able to say to myself then. And here I am today with less difference to vive about.

Over the roughly two years that I have been “out” to myself as a Cross Dresser, I seem to have gradually acquired a better understanding of the passions that shoes can engender. I am slowly falling under the spell. The spell seems to me to be a two part compound: Having + Getting. Having consists of all the lovely things associated with choosing and wearing a perfect pair of shoes for the day or evening ahead. Getting is everything that happens before that. Shopping in short. I promise you an essay on the whole Having realm some time in the future. Today though, let us focus on the Getting, shall we?

To shop for shoes in the way that women do is one of those pampering luxuries exclusive to the fairer sex, and largely free of the lumbering, awkward, impatient presence of the less fair sex. Exclusively female experiences are a real draw to me. I truly enjoy knowing and feeling things that the next guy does not.

I enjoy as well the warm, sisterly welcome that has been extended my way on those days I have been out en femme, in the tall racks. On at least one occasion I “passed” fully and was simply assumed to be another women on the perched prowl for a new pair. On a couple of other occasions, my eyes met with a fellow shopper, and my smile was returned. I interpreted the look as meaning … “you might not be all woman, but you get shoes, and I get that, so bless your heart…”.

The unspoken Rules of the Rails seemed to reveal themselves, wordlessly. Adequate personal space is maintained between shoppers. If a woman is eyeing a particular pair, she is allowed first refusal. No reaching through sight lines. Honest unsolicited comments are welcomed, provided they are limited to, “yes”, “nice”, “love them”, and other such economical endearments. Never, ever, go negative with the commentary. Mirror space is sacred. No jostling, sighing or toe tapping. Very civilized.

Staff have been super helpful too. “Have a seat or take a look around and I will be back in a jiffy with the other half of the pair. Oh, I have another I think you will like too. Here is a shoe horn, and the mirror is free over there”. Service at its finest typically.

The few purchases I have made while in drab mode have gone without incident. Twice, memorably, the sales assistant reminded me to hang on to the receipt. “If they don’t feel good or just don’t look nice on you, you can bring them back. OK?”. Delivered with a smile. This is a clear indication to me that anyone in the business of selling shoes is no stranger to fellows with a certain penchant. I really do not believe that one can surprise or alarm staff in a shoe shop provided one is not wearing a belted trench coat and is sweating copiously. Thankfully, that person is not you or I.

With that said though. shopping for shoes while in guy mode is less of a joy for me. A man, clearly on his own, looking for women’s shoes is very evidently shopping for himself. You can gift a dress or lingerie. Shoes? Not so much. My unease is not driven by embarrassment: my blush thresholds are far too high for that. It is more that I feel vaguely at odds with the vibe. I feel as though I have farted in a swimming pool and somebody spotted the bubbles.

Women’s shoe shops feel to me like a refuge of sorts, a private space, members only, reserved for women, and rightly repellant of men. Out of respect for the that, I think I will do my best to keep things this way and do my shoe shopping only when out in full Petra mode.

So, as it stands, here in my Drabbatical months, I have more shoes than I need, and less than I want. Yes, the hook is in. I have a monkey on my back, and a strap round my ankle. And I feel fine. How about you? Commentary and chatter most welcomed.

Photos from talented designers you can find on CC''s always fashionable Couture Carrie.

The Cost of Cross Dressing

Money isn’t everything, but there is very little that it clashes with. As such, I try to pay attention to the money parts of my life, including the money parts of Cross Dressing.

Cross Dressing costs. Money spent nurturing the other self is money not saved for the future, or money otherwise redirected from the very real and pressing needs of the present. This can be a source of conflict, internal and within the household too.

The internal conflicts can be considerable. For many, acquiring a dress or a pair of shoes can represent the difference between balance and depression. For others, and I put myself in this group, the hope of finding the right thing, the thing that makes you look as close to beautiful as you can hope, is a compelling lure. Shopping is more of temptation to me in this part of my life than in any other, by long measures.

A part of this is, I will confess, a little seditious. When shopping in guy mode, I do enjoy the reaction at the cash desk or from a sales assistant when it becomes plain that I am more expert at this gig than most men, and that I am shopping for myself. The reaction is typically very generous. I feel as though I am extended an invitation to a sorority. When shopping en femme, it is easy to feel as though you have failed if you don’t have a bag slung over your shoulder at some point in the day after all the effort has been made.

The temptation comes too, in part, from a feeling that I am making up for lost time. There were many years that I simply did not nurture this aspect of my whole self. After coming to personal terms with Cross Dressing, the dam has burst a little. Clothing is more often at the front of my thoughts than in years past. And I follow my thoughts into the shops.

Some of it is practical. I have a spotty wardrobe, and a degree of vanity that I possess about my femme self. I like to look different, if possible, each time I am out. A new outfit is a real confidence booster. It is more likely to get a compliment, and compliments about my appearance are music to my ears. I admit it.

Lastly, I think that many of us are motivated by the very real challenge of just getting it right. We are not schooled by a lifetime of practice. There are a thousand mistakes you could make in putting an ensemble together. Wrestling the dizzying range of choice down and emerging with a smart, flattering, useful garment is not easy. When you do, it can be the most meaningful win of your day.

With all of that said though, and with all the merit inherent in any job well done, if the money is being spent heedlessly, it is being spent poorly. In the attempt to not spend heedlessly, I have hung on to my receipts, and tracked my use of things. I recently did a little inventory, and rebuilt from memory, with a good degree of accuracy, the amount of wear that I have been getting from my purchases.

With all of the vital statistics poured into a spreadsheet, I have created a value called Cost per Wear (CPW). Truthfully though all I did was divide the price I acquired an item for by the number of times it has been worn (ed. by worn, I mean worn out, into the big wide world, not privately). I give credit for the CPW concept to Stacey and Clinton of American “What Not To Wear” fame, who used this approach recently to help a dreadfully conflicted woman overcome her feelings of guilt about shopping for and nurturing herself.

The entire spreadsheet is here. Click to enlarge, if you care, if you dare.

Here are some high level executive summary notes:

Girl likes a sale, yes indeed. The 41 garments I have purchased in the last 18 months have an aggregate discount from full retail price of 67%. I am entirely proud of the thrift displayed in my sprees. A cautionary note here though is that finding flattering and useful clothing at deep, deep discounts takes time. There is a little opportunity cost in repeatedly browsing and leaving shops empty handed. The dividends can be extraordinary though. The silk blouse and nice twill skirt pictured above would have set me back $120.00 at the start of the fall/winter season, but were snapped up for a mere $26.00.

Be prepared to be a reverse snob. JC Penney is a discount retailer. The only purchases I ever made there in the past were crate loads of cheap wine glasses suitable for party scenes Chez Bellejambes. I have picked up 14 really smart, reasonably well made, contemporary garments over the months at good old Penneys, and some stunning under $10.00 wins in the last couple of weeks. A beautifully polished sales assistant in a very upmarket shop told me she loved a skirt I had on one day. I told her it where I picked it up and how little it cost. Her jaw dropped and I felt possessed of magic.

Be prepared to shop up. Absolutely, positively visit shops that you are out of your price range. At the very least you will be better in touch with what is current, and get some terrific accessorizing ideas, but more than that, you can strike gold. Get your elbows up and get to the back of the store, to the clearance racks. There is a lot of meat still on the bone, and of interest to the Cross Dresser, much of it is in larger sizes.

A great price is not a great value. I have been dazzled by mark downs, sad puppies on hangers simply looking for exactly the sort of home I can provide. If you get the puppy home and cannot show it some love though, you are just being irresponsible. I have 16 items that I have not worn yet. If I am to be honest, perhaps six or seven of them will never see light of day. These things are going to find a better home, in a donation box or with a woman’s shelter. There, at least, I will be providing value, if not taking direct benefit myself. Stay true to your style and to the limits of what parts of your body you can show. No more half sleeves for me, and no more purchases justified on the basis of “but it was so cheap”.

And the money shot, so to speak, is this: My average CPW is $11.24. I don’t know if this is a good number, but I feel like it is, given that my wardrobe does not get used daily, or cycled through frequently. I am going to track this key metric, and use the ~ $ 10.00 benchmark as my gold standard. I think the Board of Directors here at Voyages en Rose Inc. (hi honey!) will continue to be supportive of this business units performance.

How about you? Do you track your spend? Is your spend out in the open? Is it all a source of delight or despair? Input welcomed on this matter from anyone with a purse.

Questions on any other topic, and I do mean any topic, are equally welcomed. Please ask a question in my snazzy new Formspring “Ask me anything” widget. Thanks in advance for your insatiable curiosity.

Happy dressing, shopping and etc.

The Return of the Things

Even after all the bumping and bruising of my recent Black Friday shopping, I still had some snap in my garter. I had hauled in some terrific trophies from the frothy retail sea last week, and beautiful as they all are, I chose to exercise a woman’s prerogative on a couple of the glittering catches snared in the net. The Ann Taylors’, after some consideration, simply did not ring true. Yes, the pencil skirt is gorgeous. 2 issues though, and neither have to do with the skirt:

a) I already have her twin, and b), at 22” it is just a tad demure.

Much to like about a perfect skirt though, and not only for the admirer outside of its tight, sleek confines. There are joys for the bearer of such glad fashion tidings. The graceful limits of ones strides are so exactly pressed with each step. The compression of the thigh, the flattening of skirt front, the slight bias pull of sleek lining shifting and swishing around ones derriere, the cheeky opening of the back-slit. Ahh, be still my heart. Wonderful sensations. Mirrors not required. But again, we live in austere times dear friends, and so with heart hardened back to the shops I went.

I took with me the polished cotton tuxedo blouse too. Great look, really, but I already have a full male wardrobe of butchy enough things. I will henceforth leave this class of blouse to the genetic girl set, and admire the look from afar, or from as close as civil society allows. Live and learn. But be sure to hang on to your receipts always.

And a good thing I did too, because Black Friday is followed surely by Cyber Monday. A completely spurious invention of online retailers needing to gin up another belch of ill-considered consumption, Cyber Monday is celebrated with online door crasher specials, free shipping and other purse-prying premiums.

Smart retailers have learned in recent years that what is good for the online goose is good for the offline gander, and so most web deals are offered at parity in the stores these days. I prefer shopping live for a whole host of reasons, one amongst them that I move faster than UPS when the urge hits. My favorite smart retailer, Ann Taylor went 40% off everything again for Cyber Monday, and so I figured a nice swap out would be in order.

I dressed a tad differently than my lovely visit a couple of weeks ago when I had the leopard print dress on. Work boots, ratty jeans, indifferent jersey top with a corporate logo and paint stains on it, a ball cap to cover my unkempt hair and a Miami Vice class stubble-field on my unmoisturized face. There is a little construction going on Chez Bellejambes, you see. Drab to the fullest extent possible. Still, I was clocked by one clever sales assistant who had rutted the racks with me recently. With a warm return hello, and knowing smiles tendered, I dove in with renewed vigor and emerged with unarguably prettier, flouncier, and more feminine things.

The Top – A Cascading Ruffle Blouse, found in a terrific pewter shade, all delicate silk georgette, ruched shoulders and buttoned cuff, puffed sleeves, a blouse from the far reaches of Planet Girly. It will work terrifically with the new skirt (notes below) as well as recent finds from JC Penney. Knocked down from ~ $100 to just a touch over $25 US. <insert choir of angels sound here>.

The Skirt. Diagonal Tiers of very pretty chiffon pennantry draped across the stretch jersey front of this slightly more body conscious, thigh baring, 19” not-for-every-day-wear side-zipped flirt. The grim retail reaper had undressed this beauty from a lofty $90.00 all the way down to $30.00 by the time I found my grubby paint-splattered hands on it. Patience and compulsion rewarded at the same time. The universe is kind yes, and O so pretty.

I must tell quickly of the check out experience. My finds were being gently dressed in tissue paper by a statuesque beauty who had not been in the shop when I was there en femme, and who assumed I was in the gift market for a shapelier girl.

“Nice! What’s the occasion?”

“The occasion is beautiful cloths”, said I.

“O, that is sweet. I love sensitive men…”.

Damn, but I am glad I am married. I remember being prone to making a complete fool of myself with the slightest encouragement in younger years, and you know that a nice new outfit does make me feel so, so young.

After the taxes were figured in, I had an outfit I feel absolutely certain about, and a crisp $20.00 bill slipped back into my purse. That unexpected windfall is poised for the next, absolutely, positively required thing. If I know me, updates will not be too far off my friends.

Happy dressing, and happy everything else

Cross Dressers Correspondence Corner

Loyal followers of these Voyages en Rose may recall a post from a couple of weeks back wherein I got a little dressing and shopping therapy in after what had been an awfully, needfully drab month. I picked up a dress from Ann Taylor that I had had my eye on for some time. Its never quite so easy as that though, is it? Let me color it in for you here.

The dress, pictured at right had arrived in the shops in late August, and retailed at $150.00. Steep, entirely out of my league. My periodic emails from Ms. Taylor advised me that certain early autumn pieces including this pretty object of my desire had been discounted by 40%. Hmmmm, at $90.00 I felt my not inconsiderable powers of destructive rational kicking in, but successfully mastered those indulgent urges.

When I walked past the shop though and saw that there was a further storewide 40% off previously discounted merchandise, I was drawn, powerless really, into the shop for a little look-see. Flipping through a rack of dresses, not yet finding my intended, the sales assistant opened with “who are you shopping for today?”

“Me. Hey, I am sure you can help. I am looking for a particular dress I saw in one of your emails. It’s the animal print sheath..."

She became a little discombobulated, and started marching me towards a wall of shoes (nice ones mind you) that housed a couple of leopardy or zebra-y pumps.

“Well we have these …”

“No, no no. A dress. Leopard print. Sheath style. Very simple cut, couple of inches above the knee, you must know it...”

“O … yes of course … right over here…”

She deposited me at the correct rack, and then promptly vanished.

Now, admittedly, this shop is in a very suburban setting, and likely does not get too much trade with or exposure to cross dressers, but I really got the sense that the poor dear was just confused, off-put and generally unnerved by the sight of a guy openly buying a dress for himself. Just then, my phone rang, a crisis bell was rung, and I needed to stamp out a professional fire. So was my spree cut short and a now $60.00 beauty held still in captivity.

A couple of days later I was back, found the dress, walked it up to the register, and a different lovely lady made no inquiries that forced overly honest disclosures from me.

I wrote a note to Ann Taylors customer service people letting them know that I love the merchandise, that I am a cross dresser, and that I want to feel welcomed when shopping there. Would they mind outlining their policies vis a vis CD/TG shoppers for me? ... thank your very much, and etc.

Here is the reply in full (emphasis mine).

Dear Petra:

Thank you for your email and positive feedback surrounding our merchandise. We appreciate your loyalty to our brand. We welcome all clients in our environment, and do not specify or create any special shopping protocols for our cross-dressing, transgender or transvestite clients. Ann Taylor does not discriminate based on gender identity or expression. In order to provide a comfortable and non-disruptive shopping environment, Ann Taylor recommends that those clients who present themselves as female may enter and try on clothes in our wardrobing rooms. For clients who present themselves as male, they may purchase items and try them in the privacy of their homes. Our return practice is flexible enough to accommodate the needs of our guests.

I hope our response provided clarification. We look forward to your return visit to our stores.

Sincerely, etc...

The content of the message said more than I expected and its tone is, to me, fully consistent with the sophisticated aura of the whole operation. They won me, fully. I wanted to mention this to you because when sensitivity is displayed by a vendor, well we really should share the news. I encourage you to check out the merchandise by visiting them online here. If Ann fits into your style and budget spectrum, please go visit a shop near you. The clothes really are well made, timeless, and feminine. All of these traits are worth a few extra dollars every now and then. I have great expectations of completely professional welcomes in the future, and suspect that I simply found a sales assistant who was having a less than perfect day on my first visit.

O, and about the dress, I have never, even for a moment, wore any garment that made me feel nearly as desirable and beautiful as I do in this dress. I cannot wait for the right day to take her out for a test prowl. Perhaps I will wear it out to pick up the sexy grey suit. Yum.

How about you? Any terrific shopping and customer service experiences lately? Please name names here.

Happy dressing, shopping, corresponding and everything else.

Petra’s Tuesday Traipse: The Power of the Purse

You and I might think of the Power of the Purse as that invisible beam that slays you mid-mall and pulls you (at great peril to your credit rating) into the warm and dangerous confines of that shop you swore to not visit. More broadly (no broads here, only Ladies I presume), the Power of the Purse is that old twist of the Golden Rule. She with the gold, rules.

Well, Petra has a purse or 2, and a little gold sloshing around in them. I have been exercising my Purse Power not only by shopping, but by learning from and leaving behind Product Reviews wherever possible. Product reviews are terrific things. I learn from them. I learn what about what other real people (with real figures and without real armies of stylists, set decorators and lighting assistants) think about a garment I am considering buying. The wisdom of crowds it is called, and you can save yourself from buyers remorse by listening on this buzz.

On the other side of the coin, and to me, more importantly though, you can leave your own kind or sharp words behind as encouragement or caution to the next sister in line. Pay it forward. Save a girl from disappointment, or encourage them to be brave. Sorority solidarity.

There is more though. Senior management is paying attention to these reviews. These are tough times for retailers, online, around the corner and spanning the globe. The retailers who going to survive are those that listen to their customers and provide a welcoming shopping experience. The more retail management expects their income to come from crossdressers, the better our experience will be.

Here are a few samples of recently posted Petra online reviews. My suggested guidlines here:

• Be fair. No garment is comprehensively bad. So if you have something negative to say about a purchase, do feature something positive, something that redeems the garment to a degree.
• Be creative. Go ahead, put a little sizzle into your review. If you make the effort and have a stylish way of saying what you want to say, it will increase your odds of being published and engaging the next reader.
• Be open. Say that you are CD or TG or whatever describes you best. I have been delighted to see self identified M2F crossdressers talking about the fit and feel of dresses, pantyhose, you name it online. If we are not furtive about our shopping, the market should organize around us slowly and surely.

I want to give a particularly warm (and hopefully not overly familiar) hug to our friends at Macy’s - the Grand Old Lady of department stores. Sales Assistants have been helpful and just nicely curious about my shopping, en femme and in drab. When I have been in a Macy’s wearing a Macy’s dress, it gets noticed by staff. On 2 separate occasions an SA has excitedly told me that I look terrific and that they appreciate that I am a Macys customer. Online, my reviews have been published quickly, and weirdly, other customers have found them helpful.

The really smart and helpful SA’s have encouraged me to take a moment as well writing about the shopping experience. Look at your receipts. There is a URL that you should visit and take 2 minutes to tell management how you enjoyed (or did not enjoy) your visit. These get read too. I have received 2 very personalized email responses from Macy’s Store Managers thanking me for my business, and promising to single out the SA for excellent performance in front of the whole team. That review may be the difference when it comes time to chopping hours or laying off staff.

I have had some great experiences with JC Penny too. I have reviewed a good handful of items and have risen to the status of Top 1000 Contributor. I am not sure what goes into their reviewer algorithm, but I suspect that people who have read my reviews have bought the reviewed product. Everyone wins.

Honorable mention to Target and American Apparel. These are all retailers who seem committed to giving control of the message to their consumers to a very large degree. It is control that is ours to seize and to benefit from. We are shoppers, hear us roar.

Its all easy, and to me fun. I encourage you to use your femme online persona and take the time to start a dialog with the vendors who hope you open your purse for them. The purse has power, and who knows that better than us? Lets wield it and not just yield to it.

And to retailers who don’t provide for online reviews, you are underestimating your most potent marketing vector, your most sincere critic and the people who pays your salary. And just look at us … clearly this is company you want to keep.

Today's post has a very America-centric message to it. Alas, here is where my femme shopping get done. I would be delighted to hear which retailers earn your business and your respect in your part of the world. Don’t hesitate to leave a comment.

Happy dressing, shopping and everything else.

Log rolling in high heels on a sunny Friday

Very short post today my lovely friends. And here on casual Friday are we not all just looking a scoosh more stylish than all the others? Thanks for making the effort!

In any event, our friend Vanessa Law over at crossdresserheaven.com posted a little Petra success story today. Vanessa is way more popular than me. I am not jealous. Just envious in a healthy way. So, in any event, what I think has dried my throat a bit, and started my little (but still capable of great things) heart just tap-tapping a little quicker is that well, there I am on the real internet.

Petra is not quite petrified, but feeling as though my wrap around skirt just got a little windblown if you know what I mean you bashful thing you.

In any event, I would not recommend anybody go and read the post for the literary merit in it, but I would recommend a few things…

1. Do visit Vanessa. Wonderful site and loads of helpful stuff,
2. Do read my post (especially if you are beginner-esque at all of this) because there is a happy, positive and life affirming (ed . take it down a notch lady) ok, scratch that, encouraging moral to the story, and
3. Go ahead and tell your story. The photo is optional friends. Don't worry. And what is all this about the camera adding 10 lbs?

Have a < insert your own superlative here > weekend!

A Tale of 2 Visits to Victoria's Secret

Over the years I have bought many nice things in stores. Typically in drab. Sometimes for my wife, sometimes for Petra. My shopping was typically cloaked, (like many of you, dear readers) under the pretence of buying that nice thing for my wife.

Now, I do have some advantages. I can pick up a size 6 skirt or a 34C bra and the cashier or the girl on the shop floor could easily reason that, yes, that is likely the size of his wife. And a quick glance at my left hand would add evidence. There is a gold band on the 3rd finger.

And yes, I can fit my skinny butt into a size 6 skirt and hook a 34C bra around my, well, bust if you must. If I weighed another 60 lbs, things would be a little different. I suppose when you are shopping in a Lane Bryant for a size 24 dress, you are kind of giving yourself away. And that's OK. I am not either editorializing or gloating here. Its just the way it is.....

Nonetheless (even when I am legitimately buying something nice for my wife), there is a part of me that wonders …. “Does this nice stranger think this is for me? Did she clock me? And is she just humoring me? Does she deal with crossdressers everyday?”

Well, I did some nice shopping en femme recently, and it gave me encouragement to change the way I shop in drab. Here goes:

Visit # 1

After a superb make up treatment (Thanks R!), I had a little time to kill before the cocktail hour. I popped into Macys, and it was a little bit of a ghost town. Staff said hello. I stopped in intimates, looked at shoes, thought about a couple of dresses, not seriously shopping, but rehearsing shopping. Nothing really stood out, including it seems, Petra. Just another girl in a store.

I strolled out into the mall and was drawn inevitably into Victoria’s Secret. Now the fun begins. The entirely cute and petite Asian girl was envious of my ability to walk in heels. I swear to goodness, I was giving a Ggirl tiny lessons in letting the hips do the work. And there was a terrific promotion in the shop. Spend a minimum of $10.00, and get a gift card with random value --- likely $10.00 but possibly a thousand. How could a girl say no?

The abundance of mirrors and the O so nicely merchandized collections of pretty things were just music to me. Nothing furtive about my browsing. I know I was clocked within seconds by the staff, (and, if I am a realist, by some of the quicker clientele), but no worries at all. In fact, my new friend who can’t walk in heels said that if I wanted to try anything on, I was most welcomed.

Somebody shoot me while I am happy.

The fitting rooms were a little crowded, and really I had the wrong outfit on ( turtleneck dress, a real wig-popper) so a little try before you buy was out of the question. But do you know, the point was, I was fooling nobody (fully) and it just did not matter. Just a guy in a dress.

Just a guy in a dress on a budget too. I really did not want to splash out too much that night, but had to pick something up. Hosiery of course is something you can never have either enough or too much of. So after all the touch and feel, just picked up a pair of superb semi-boarded control tops with a very pretty lace effect at high thigh. Cashed out, got a little spritz of perfume, a nice catalog, a yet to be redeemed gift card and pretty pink bag to walk back out to the car with.

And this really got me thinking. I cannot get out as much as I like to en femme (too many reasons, more on that later). But I do like to prepare for nights (and days) en femme. I do like as well to keep in touch with Petra, and do things for her. Sometimes it is just a visualization exercise. You see a nice look on a real woman, and say to yourself, yeah Petra ought to have that look. And then, maybe you go shopping for that look. In drab.

Visit # 2

So I was in drab yesterday, and my Victoria’s Secret Secret Value gift card was burning a hole in my pocket. Those control tops I mentioned earlier on – fabulous. Really snug around the hips and butt. Nice glossy finish. Yum. So I dropped in.

“Can I help you find something today?”
“Sure, I am looking for hosiery”
“Is this a gift?”
“No, its for me. I wear a size C here”
“OK, just over here…”

And do you know something, there were no flashing red lights, no PA announcements of the presence of a deviant in the store, no women and children shrieking and running away. Just me and the nice girl talking 'bout tights.

“You don’t need the control tops do you? I mean look how skinny you are…”
“Well, I have different parts I need to ... ummm.... well, contain you know… and the padded panties, well they need to be smoothed out a bit too.”
“Really? Well, yeah, I guess that makes sense … oops, hey, I think we are out of the black in C. I like the almost black. Would that work for you?"
"Sure, that will do"
"Do you need anything else today?”
“No, I really just wanted to find out whether my surprise value card is worth $10.00 or whether I like struck gold and got one of the high value ones…”
“Well, I hope you get lucky – check out is just over here...

Nice for the environment too. She did not bother asking me whether I wanted a gift box.

“Do you have a Victoria’s Secret Angel Card?”
“Um, not yet.”
“You really ought to get it. You'll never ever pay full price”
“OK, well I will figure that one out later….”

And so it went.

And so it will go in the future. When I shop for me, I will shop openly. I suspect that some people will just be too unnerved to do their job well. And that is ok. I pretty much expect that I will get terrific service, and will probably meet some nice people just by being a little more honest about it. Perhaps this will help drive down the stigma factor that many of us still fear to one degree or another. And it might just make life a little more interesting for the nice, nice women working in a small handful of shops.

I will keep you posted on how it goes.