Getting old is a drag

While the art of transformation is so at the core of our intoxicating and compelling urges, I will confess, dear friends, to being a bit of a data fiend. I do hope that my love of math does not erode what little womanly appeal I may accidentally possess. I trust that we, above all people, are able to rise above stereotypes (perhaps aided by impossibly high heels) and be smart girls without sacrificing even a smidgen of our feminine appeal. So here are some numbers and thoughts on last weeks poll that so many of you were kind enough to participate in.

I asked what age we are. I honestly volunteered my own (46) and another 48 of you clicked in, Many thanks! Here is what we look like:
To me, there are some results that run slightly against expectations, and one big puzzle. O how I want your help with the puzzle, which nets out like so: Where are all the young crossdressers?

My own polling and numbers gleaned from other sources indicates that we are called into the pink fitting room at very early ages. Anywhere from 80-90% of us either crossdressed or had the dawning realization of a gender gift before we escaped from high school. And yet this next crop of fashion forward friends is completely absent from the Voyages en Rose readership. (Click on images to enlarge)

Where O where are they? Measured against the national demographic data provided by the never glamorous US Census Bureau you can see how silver haired we are relative to the overall population. Fully half of our site visitors are 50 years or older where this sophisticated set comprises a mere 25% of the broad male population (absolutely no pun intended). The chart shows Petra’s readership shamefully below national population distribution in the under 30 set though, and this begs a little speculating. Mine follows, and your ideas are solicited here.

Do we spend our earlier years experimenting and then, believing in our young adult years that this will simply go away? Is there a drive for “fitting in” and even mating up that suppresses the dressing? Does the habit go dormant or only periodically erupt until we mature a little and really take ownership of it? This theory is based on only a little consideration of my own case. There is however, one other possibility that I must contend with if I am to be an honest correspondent from the front lines of crossdressing. Here goes:

Petra Bellejambes' Voyages en Rose could be so irredeemably uncool and out of touch with youth culture that I lost the younger CD at “hello”. If so, I can live with it. I know that I certainly lived with the “never trust anyone over 30” suggestion that a generation just a little older than me lived well by back in the turbulent 60’s. Perhaps my blog has just too matronly a fragrance around it for our youngish friends.

Recently on one of the crossdressers.com forums one of the sisters started a thread wondering where indeed the younger set were. An instant flurry of 20something hands were virtually and proudly raised. That was encouraging. It seems to me that we live in a time of broader acceptance of alternative expressions of gender specifically and of self in general. With those conditions in place, it would be a shame to keep desires that don’t seem to vanish too deeply buried to enjoy them to the fullest extent.

Especially when you consider that most of us had so much better a figure in our slightly younger years. Alas, perhaps that is why I am so rarely in an age appropriate dress.

If you have any comments you would like to share, don’t hesitate. Happy to hear from you anytime, and especially in this case if you have the perspective of the 20something CD/TG.

I am going to put the data away for a little while now. I have some terrific en femme shopping planned for tomorrow. And likely not dressed age appropriate methinks. I suspect the next couple of posts will be a little less academic. Till then, happy dressing and happy everything else.

Petra's Tuesday Traipse - Volume 5

Crossdressing is interesting. And not just figuring out how to walk in heels or fastening the clasp on a back zip cocktail dress. Of course, being able to do those things, and a thousand other graceful indicators of femininity is a form of accomplishment. And accomplished people, whether CD or TG (or any other place on the spectrum) tend to accomplish much in diverse, and sometimes surprising arenas. Many excel at the whole writing thingy.

Recently I have been lucky enough to stumble into the online lairs of a handful of Crossdressers and other gender gifted individuals who have really captured my attention. These are personal journals that manage to get past surface issues, and explore with style, sensitivity, insight and wit some of the more profound aspects of life for people who share our enthusiasms.

The sites in today’s Tuesday Traipse stand out for honesty and quality. They manage to not get too preachy or self-obsessed along the way. Additionally, the authors do not ever lose sight of the magical, electrical qualities of the transformations that we are drawn too. Moreover, and finally, these are sites that stand out for nice finishes, or for great execution of the technical tactics that make it possible to find beautiful roses amongst the myriad thorns of the web.

So here are a handful of blogs I would encourage you to visit.

Lets start today with the fabulously named Femulate. Anyone serious about writing has creating a new word on their “bucket list”. Well hats off Staci. Femulate is a peach. Beyond this creative flourish, Femulate is easy on the eye. The layout is clean, text stands out from background well and the site refreshes daily with really nice, aspirational imagery of beautiful, confident and yes, fully dressed women. Women who I invariably want to femulate.

Content on the site runs the gamut from the very whimsical to deeply contentious and political. Regardless of how serious the issue of the day is though, it never drowns out the essential enthusiasm for life and enjoyment that Staci clearly has a death grip on. It will take you just 2 minutes a day to get a piece of that for yourself. Go. Now.

When you have more than 2 minutes to spare, may I suggest the somewhat more demanding blog of Tricia Dale. This is stuff to curl up on the couch with. Leave enough time for your nails to dry. Prepare to spend some quality time. Those of you with a background in English Lit will recognize the epic, serial storytelling of Thomas Hardy. Those of you who pinched your big sisters Enid Blyton books will be similarly comforted.

If you are musically inclined too however, marvel at the remarkably well executed device employed by our 3rd person heroine to provide narrative structure. Chapter names are borrowed from a vast and diverse collection of beautiful songs, songs that express ineffably feminine perspectives. Complete with lyrics no less. Go. When you have more time.

Jillian Page comes from another school of authorship altogether. Jillian is an actual journalist. Not a frustrated amateur. She was thinking and writing for a living long before Jillian was broadly introduced to the world as, well… as Jillian. If you want to see the world through the eyes of a professional who happens to be gender transitioning, this is the place to go.

American gals may take a moment or 2 to get used to seeing the letter “u” following the letter “o” more than Webster would like. Once past that, Jillian’s dispatches are bigger than bite size, and dense with personal observations that are just drenched with experience, both authorial and personal. Jillian is in full M2F transition mode. She is creating an essential piece of social archaeology in real time here. Don’t miss an issue. Go. Subscribe to her feed.

And as much as I enjoy my visits to these 3 blogs, I cannot imagine how many terrific sites and insights I am missing. The more I look around the more I realize you cannot swing a purse around here without hitting a clever blogette. If you know one (or if you are that girl), drop a line, or leave a comment here on this post. I’d love to know what I am missing.

Getting that Girlish Figure

In an earlier posting I wrote at great length about the trials and tribulations of creating and enjoying the feel and the illusion of a beautiful pair of womanly breasts. To me, that transformation and illusion is truly the holy grail of crossdressing. Petra may never fully realize perfection on the front porch, but the dream lives on and the hope never dies.

What is a little easier though is getting the shape around the hips and butt that evolution did not provide the M2F enthusiast naturally. I have had some great success lately, and want to share my product notes and usage tips. I am not suggesting that I got my shape quite up to Beyonces' breathtaking standards, but ladies, try we must.

By the way, I want your tips too. Please! You can never know too much about building that perfect derriere. Leave a comment here, or drop a line to Petra. Thanks!

Now, before you begin, a few little tricks…

• Stage before you dress. Pack your purse. Have your wig combed out. Pick your accessories. Have your keys by the door. And think about whether the dogs will need to go out. You can dress later and leave relaxed if you have really planned ahead.


• Keep your fluid intake low for a few hours before dressing. If you plan on going out, you will want to stay out. And taking a dainty pee out there, well that is for the very few, the very proud and the very brave. Once you are inside your foundation garments, you are in for the duration.


• File and buff your (natural) nails. You will be handling delicate garments that you want to last forever. Save yourself a run or two.


• Do your makeup before dressing – makeup is time consuming. Dressing is easy
• Shop for neutral shades. Yes, black is hot, but go for close-to-nude shades for the undergear.


• And then, before dressing, seriously, have a pee (sorry about the obsessing here gurls).

Now, I like to keep a little glass of wine handy. A little mood music goes on around this time too. I like Carol King or Eve Cassidy or KT Tunstall or Patty Griffin. Sweet and sometimes hurting voices with heartfelt stories of life from the woman’s perspective. Whatever brings you to the right place is cool (if music is important to you, drop me a line .. who gets you there?)

And lastly, keep pair of standard issue rubber gloves handy. Nothing makes the shapewear fit as cleanly. I am serious. Take a minute to read an informative tutorial while visiting Shapings. Really nice pictures there too.

Now, seeing as we are building here, I am going to employ construction metaphor. Hope thats not too butch for us all. Take a deep breath, you will be pulling on layers here.

The foundation: All important. You need something with real strength. Not only are you adding shape with your foundation, you are suppressing some shape. The waist-high, thigh-slimming 4 pad panty girdle is the key garment. If you have only one thing left in your closet, let it be this. Mine was purchased at Fredericks of Hollywood. Lots of great shapewear. The Fredericks product is superb for a couple of reasons. First, the front panel is nuclear strength. This will flatten you out and really force you to think about your belly. Second, good leg length and silicon trim at the thigh band. Stays in place.

You may also want to look to JC Penny online. Surprisingly, they have the full line of Crown Shapewear on line. Nice prices, great service.

The framing: If a little derriere shape is good, a lot is better, right? Damn right. Get ready to pull up The Squeem Magical Padded Panty. Wow. This complements and fills out the 4 pad girdle. There are no removable pads here. Solid state construction. Like a glove. Online at Sense Lingerie and other fine retailers. If you are here in Atlanta, go visit Anna or Becky at Lingerie Mart. Product is in stock – plus you can try them on there to be sure of the fit.

Petra dies for this layer because it removes the slight lumpiness that the foundation leaves under clingy clothes, and it smooths out and holds in your front just that little bit more.

The Finish Carpentry: At this point you are structurally sound, but its time to work on the aesthetics. Blending the new stuff with the old you is key. Particularly if you will be wearing clingy, body conscious outer layers. Now, for quite some time I have been a Spanx fan. And my love is still there. But my Spanx have tended to roll down and gather at the waist. Not a great look. Additionally, Spanx fabric generates just a little too much warmth for long term comfort.

Petra’s solution --- The Flexees Weightless Power Thigh Slimmer. Weightless, yes, but with the power of 10 women. All the give and flex is around the hips and butt. There is no up and down give at all. Super comfortable, smooth as silk, and exactly what the girl on the go needs nearly on top of it all. Online at Bare Necessities or grab a pair off-line at (you guessed it …) good old JC Penny.

A nice coat of paint: Even with slacks on, I expect you will want to slide gently into your favorite hose or stockings on top of it all. You deserve it. I may not, but I do anyhow. Sometime soon, Petra will weigh in on Pantyhose. Be sure to send me notes on what works for you, because the search for perfection never ends. In the meantime ….

Happy dressing!

O, for a pair

The leg-centric photos you see peppered throughout my blog maybe, kind of, sort of tell you a little about my obsessions. Feminine territory south of the equator has always been right at the core of my imaginings and explorations. That said, we are Mammals, and as such, are drawn, to one degree or another by, well, the Mams. And yes, this leg fan has a special place in mind for breasts.

They are warm, yielding, responsive, symmetrical, ever present and usually out of reach. They hide. I seek. I want to watch them, touch them, taste them. And I want a pair of my own.

Young(er) Petra experimented. Balled up socks. Rolled up panty hose. Rice poured into sheer knee-highs. Wrong, all wrong.

Middle aged Petra has more choice and experience. And a little more budget too. And access to a terrific world of online shopping possibilities. Easiest thing on the planet these days to Google up breast forms, land up on Suddenly Fem, Glamour Boutique, or a host of others, and drop anywhere between $150 and $300 for a spectacular pair of silicon breasts. There are a couple of problems though:

1. Even in a plain brown wrapper, it is difficult for me to be certain that I would be at home to intercept the delivery. My wife of many years past, and hopefully many years ahead would have some really pointed questions for me. and


2. I have some chest hair I cannot find a plausible excuse to shave off. Which means I can get the shape, but how o how to organize the cleavage?
   
   I came really really close this autumn, and want to explain how to you. Pour a glass of wine and take a moment with me. I had our home empty for a few weeks, and Petra just took my hand and got busy.

A couple of years ago, I experimented with Liquid Latex Mold material. Terrific stuff. About $12.00 a jar, available at Michaels Craft Stores. Order on-line, or (if your inner Petra orders you around too, just go to the nearest store – always yield to that voice if you know what’s good for you…).

So, this stuff requires patience. It needs to be brushed into the mold in thin, thin and even coats. The coats require ample drying time. Keep a hair dryer handy. You will get the hang of it in time. To get the right balance between durability and flexibility, 6-8 coats has worked for me. While you are coating the bust form, be sure to be making a 12” x 12” square of the same material with the same number of coats. You will cut and use these parts to seal the breast cavity later.

Now, the surface color of the material when it dry’s out is an unattractive jaundiced yellow. Not exactly a come-hither look. No problems. Liquid foundation is the solution. Don’t worry about using up the expensive name brand stuff here. Just match your own complexion with really cheap, Sally Beauty Supply stuff (or go to Target or wherever). Pour in and dilute. Assuming a kind of pale Caucasian complexion, the latex should be lighter then your skin tone. It will dry slightly darker.

Extra bonus points no matter what way you do this. En Femme, and its just another terrific day out. In drab, and you are making one of those peculiar purchases that you can either stammer away …” its for my girlfriend”, or you can say nothing (most often) or just for the total thrill of it, you can say “ this is for me… is it any good? You might make a new friend.

Now, what to mold it into? Easier than you think. Wherever you live there is a store fixture shop. Here in Atlanta, there is a company called Bland Enterprises. Just outside the perimeter on Jimmy Carter. Believe it or not, you can get a nice plastic female bust form for under $20.00. Now, a quick qualifying note. If you are a full figured girl, you may need to look further afield. You are resourceful – go hunting. For me, the typical bust form is about perfect in size. I wear a 34C. The downside for me is I have a hard time shopping for men’s clothing. Ah well.

So, paint on the inside, up to the neck line, out to the ribs, right to the arm holes. You are making a half-body mold. It can get a little tricky. It took me some experimenting and some failure. It will for you too. Here we go:

1. Fill and seal one breast at a time. You will need to adjust the tilt of the bust form (laying face down) in order to get maximum fill. The latex mold is good enough. I have some other suggestions at the end.


2. Seal the filled breast as air-tight as possible with the spare latex sheet you have been building. You will need to approximate the shape and cut a template with a little guesswork.


3. Paint the edges over with the latex mold to ensure a tight seal. 3 coats before repeating the process on the 2nd breast.

Now, you have a front half. You need a back half. Find the best supporting bra you have. Or go on a new shopping adventure. Flesh tone, wide shoulder strap, 3 row, 3 column back-closure bra. And go ahead ... tell the nice lady its for you. JCPenny is great value for bras. And the girls in the lingerie department have been so nicely flustered by me, I can barely stand it.

And now, disassemble the bra. That’s right, separate the front from the back. Super-glue the back half to the natural meeting places on your new front-half. Presto.

Slide arms through holes, pull up close to your neck, clasp in back, and behold thy lovely shape. Now you are not finished yet unless you are an absolute genius. Next steps as follows:

1. You may need to adjust the fill for more fullness. In fact, count on it. Go to Krogers. Buy a pastry nozzle kit for $2.00. Cut a small incision on the inside of each breast and squeeze full to capacity. Patch the incision with some of your scrap (super-glue is the right stuff) paint a couple of coats over it, and yum. Ready to jiggle.


2. You may need to trim away excess latex. Sharp exacto knife on a hard cutting surface. Do not trim on the plastic bust form.

Now, then. I got some great reviews on my shape. But was disappointed in a couple of ways. Bad news first.

Issue 1. Using the latex mold material as breast fill material made my new parts just a little too firm. I really wanted more jiggle. Additionally, my breasts did not create the desired cleavage even under pressure some a serious Victoria’s Secret padded underwire miracle number.

Solution: Next time I am going to use a liquid soap. I think it will remain a little more fluid.

Issue 2. I had slightly uneven breast swell line at the top. I think this was down to the way I sealed the cavities.
Solution: I am going to use transparent plastic next time rather then the cut latex sheet. I think this will diminish the stress felt underneath the “skin” that causes imperfect lift and cleavage appearance.

I got a lot of really positive reviews on the shape from some real experts. Anna and Becky up at everyones favorite CD friendly foundation garment shop the

Lingerie Mart in Alpharetta were totally impressed. I had cocktails with some really nice women who prefer the company of women (surely, Lesbians have got to be the real authorities on breasts …. correct?) who thought I had done great work.

My own transformation consultant was encouraging but not so impressed. Again, the feel was just too too firm. I am going to try the traditional glue-on silicon forms the next time we get together just to see what I am up against.

I feel as though I attempted to climb Mr. Everest, and just ran out of oxygen a couple of hundred feet shy of the summit. I will climb again and build the perfect breast some day soon. I really believe it is possible to have a look similar to these beauties on the right, and elsewhere in my imagination. If you have similar stories, mis-haps, advice or want to share with me your stories of getting the real deal done (silicon injections that is), I would be thrilled to hear from you.

Please feel free to work on this method and improve it where you can. I hope you get great results. I really felt better, more attractive and more natural out en femme then ever before in part as a result of all of this thinking and effort. It would please me greatly if you get the same feeling too.

Best - Petra

Petra gets Polished by a Pro

A very busy Friday. And a totally drab Friday. Late in afternoon took a close, close, shave, and put on some clean drab. Today was a big day. I had settled on visiting Paris Decatur later that night. I knew that anything before 10:00 would be ghastly, unfashionably early. And here I was getting makeup at 5:30. In mens clothing.

Now, I have no problem staying en femme for that long a time, however, there is the matter of calls of nature. For me, when I go out, I figure the outer limit of when I need to come home is just how long I can hold my water. Here are a couple of the whys:

1. I am really just never certain which bathroom to use, and
2. There are a lot of layers and a lot of real effort required to get it all locked in place. I sometimes crack a sweat in the effort. This is to be avoided in public. And certainly to be avoided when a little drunk.

So, khakis and button-down shirts and off to a beautiful home in the Morningside neighborhood. "R" smiled and made me feel at home. We had 1 hour to work with before her real engagement for the evening arrived, and so, upstairs to the lair we go.

It’s a totally self contained princess palace. "R" offers a B&B service so that clients can really occupy their feminine space. Big walk in closet off the bedroom with a real salon chair, mirrors galore, wigs beyond counting and 3 walls of wardrobe, shoes and boots. Quite impressive.

She studied me in the real light. Turned me away from view of the mirrors and then started into the transformation. Dry powder concealer. Real theatrical makeup over the beard lines. Dry foundation dusting over the rest of my face and neck. And then the epic battle on my eyes.

Drama, she had mentioned the night before, and drama she started to impose on my face. I was asking questions and without a view of the action, could only guess. Cool and thick eyeliner. Mascara that felt like it was grabbing and tugging my lashes on the way through. Glimmering, silvery eye shadow highlights worked from the outer limits of my brow line down into dark warm and lush browns on my lids.

"R" stopped working time to time. And just looked. Her face gave away nothing. Clearly she is serious about this work. She said she was going for smokey. Sounded just like what I was after. And I believe she got it. Back to work on cheeks, finished on lips, and turned the chair mirror-wise for me. Spectacular. I just wanted to look. And look. Words are usually easy for me, but they just failed at that moment. And this with me still in drab and my own hair.

 

Ah, yes, hair … I really hadn’t thought about it. R asked about what I was planning to wear that evening. I mentioned pretty much what I had on the night before. My wig was at home, it was still light out, and my face was totally glowing. Perhaps a little femme hair would help out for the drive home. ... She pulled a black bob cut number out and drew it down over my own stuff.  

One more step closer to paradise. I did not realize until that moment that like most things in life, money makes a difference, and that is clearly the case in the wig department. This mop was more a expensive and much more lustrous wig then mine. And damn but it made a huge difference. I totally crushed on g-girls with this hair back in the day. I could not believe I had that look myself.

This artist with whom I was loving more by the moment humored me with 2 other choices, but there was really never any contest. This look was totally Petra. I promised to bring it back in terrific shape over the weekend, and that worked well. 

"R" took a couple of photos, I gave her a big old hug, thanked her profusely, and fully knew that Petra was going to come out and go places she had only dreamed of before that night.

Petra seeks professional help

Without Google, I am nothing.

I had been out enough recently to know that while I was making progress on wardrobe and walk, I was stuck in the ditch on make up. The liquid Lancôme products were not covering over the dreaded shadow. Something, simply had to be done.

Many CD cosmetic guides inform that if you are not starting with Dermablend, then you are doomed to being clocked. Google up “DermaBlend” and the possibilities are endless. With patience and planning, I could have ordered on-line. But when Petra gets busy, well she jumps to the front of the line, peep-toe pumps tapping and no damned delays for even overnight express shipping at a premium of $17.95. Forget planning. Petra is a hurricane.

ULTA Cosmetics seemed like the most likely environment to get satisfaction. Had enough time to visit in drab before a lunch with a colleague. Beautiful store. A little thin on the sales floor with help, but soon enough I was chatting with a totally cute young thing who I suppose was expecting to help me pick up a nice anniversary gift box.

“I need some Dermablend to cover up my beard line. Can you help me?”

“Ummmm .... (nervous laugh)...Let me see if I can find an aesthetician for you”

Cool. Always willing to work with qualified professionals. It took about 5 minutes for a knock-out of a sister to emerge, listen to my tale, and then indicate that she really did not know the line well enough to do me justice. The real expert was going to be in at 4:00 that afternoon if I wanted to pop back in.

I said I might, but knew that Petra already had a date later in the afternoon.

Fearing that even my best efforts at self-applying make-up were simply never going to yield fruit, the night before I had Googled yet again.

“Atlanta Transformation” was the keyword. 1st ranked result was as follows:

Bulls-eye. The very thing. Checked out the site, liked what I saw (wished the photos were just a little more …. hot), but particularly loved that a free consult (in the form of a 30 minute chit-chat) was on offer.

I left a message on her machine, and figured I had some time for myself. I managed to get my panty girdle up to just over my knees when my cell phone rang in the next room. I had to do the hobble-kneed, jumpy-spazzy run breathless to the phone.

R was cheerful and calm. We needed to meet. We picked a coffee shop. I mentioned I was going to be en femme. Well, that was unusual for a first meeting. But I don’t have any hang ups with (and plenty of exposure to) unusual.

I was troubled by one thing only before heading out: Coffee Shop. Again, no particular problem with being “clocked”, just kind of felt that my voice and our topics of conversation would stand out as … well maybe just a little too much for a late afternoon caffeine crowd. We changed locale to a newish Thai joint with poor lighting, and made 5:30 a date.

So, my outfit: Skin-tight Danskin back-zip, snap-crotch turtleneck top. Huggy, stretchy cotton/lycra mini-skirt. Opaque tights. Full length, inside zip, pinched toe and 4” stiletto heel boots. Need I say black? I thought not.

My best possible, and far from passable effort with the face. Wig on and brushed out, purse packed and the always slightly unsettling drive in daylight. I don’t have a problem once I am out of the neighborhood, but that ¼ mile to the corner is a little dicey. Lots of dog walking and yard working going on. Everyone knows my car, and who the hell is that woman at the wheel? But again, if not for these little dangers, why do we dress?

I called R as I arrived. I saw a petite woman reach into a purse and pull out a phone. So, we meet. Heart starting to pop again in anticipation of the unknown.

I slid my way way out of the truck attempting to preserve modesty. My heels were pencil thin. I did less well walking then I thought I would. I had left quite a little stroll across the parking lot thinking the distance would get me and my hips into the swing of things. What the distance did was make me regret not getting a chunkier heel. And it provided an opportunity for 2 drivers to be pedestrian friendly and simply insist that I had the right of way. I recognize that “no, after you” wave of the hand. I give it all the time. When I want to look at a nice ass. Turnaround is fair play after all.

R and I talked for close to an hour. She explained how she got into the business. She had some questions of me. Married? Yes. Wife knows? No. No surprise, most don’t. Dressing long? Forever. No surprise, most do. I trusted her. I asked her:

“ So what can I do better? How can I do better? How would you help me?”

It was makeup no doubt. And yes she could help. A little more …. drama … was required. And she would be happy to supply it. We made a date for the next evening. The college boys insisted on holding the door open as we walked out of the bar together, and I tottered off to the car.