Christmas, LBDs and the TGirl

Christmas is a time for putting on the style and TGirls love donning their glad rags.  The “LBD” (Little Black Dress) has become something of a wardrobe staple –the go to party dress that can be easily accessorised to give it a fresh look.  Given too that it can be worn by women of all ages (if not necessarily all shapes) and that it can hug a reasonable figure to flattering effect (especially where industrial strength shapewear provides the necessary underpinning) it is not surprising that it has also achieved an iconic status. 

The photos with this blog post show me and my LBD (but, thankfully, not my shapewear).

Happy Christmas to Everyone 

Choosing Names

T-Girls are in the fortunate position of being able to pick their names.  Sometimes, the chosen name can relate to a girl they really like or a woman who had a positive influence on them in terms of developing their feminine side.  In other situations, the name might be what they believe they would have been called if they had been born biologically female.  In many cases, however, it is simply a feminisation of their male first name which has the added advantage that the retention of the initial can help with credit cards etc.  That's how I came up with Pamela after considering Petra (too dog like), Petunia (too flower like), Prudence (too fussy) and Pandora (altogether too hopeful).  Having said that, other considerations were high on my list of factors to consider: including, not picking a name that would sound silly when I was a silver haired old lady in her late 70s.  That's why such wonderful monikers as Kylie, Pixie, Jasmine, and Trixibelle was never really serious options.  On reflection, maybe I should have gone with Elizabeth as you are never too young to be a Beth or too old to be a Betty.

Forced Feminisation

It's interesting that so much TG fiction relies on forced feminisation.  There are villains but no heroes, just very damaged males who are the victims of cruel females. Since most of the stories are written by men, it shows a very disturbing view of the world especially as regards women.  Feminisation -usually of an extreme type- is forced on weak men and boys by dominant women and girls who are basically evil and driven by a hatred of the male sex.  Humiliation and physical pain and the order of the day and are delivered in stories short on ingenuity but high on stereotyping. At the end of the day, of course, it is all fiction and mustn't be taken too seriously but the appeal of such stories is, nonetheless, worrying. 

Addictive............

I have been out and about quite a lot recently en femme mode and I am finding it rather addictive.  I don't feel the need to be out every day or night but I want to get out regularly and preferably with others.  Going out solo is okay but it becomes boring.  I suppose it's about sharing the experience.  It's also about the evolutionary nature of the T-Girl's journey. We start in the house and eventually most of take those first tentative steps outside.  Over time, we become bolder and begin to relax and enjoy the experience all the more.  Understandably, not only do we want to repeat that enjoyable experience, we begin to want to push the boat out a little further in terms of what we do when we are out. It's like being a teenager all over again and tasting the once forbidden fruits of freedom.  Perhaps after a while it settles down again but for the moment it's addictive and brilliantly so.

Performance

Presenting as a TGirl is very much about creative performance.  Most of us start with a challenging canvas.  The gap between what we see in the mirror and what we wish to see can be daunting.  

However, properly applied make-up, a suitable hairstyle, the right clothes and good shapewear and padding can create the female image.  Of course, it can take time to perfect make-up techniques. Similarly, finding a hairstyle that works is not easy. Clothes too require attention to detail and the wrong shapewear can do more harm than good.  Persevering and accepting the vagaries of trial and error mean that most serious TGirls eventually find something that works for them.  Equally important, of course, is acceptance of what can be achieved and what can't be done.   

After the external physical transformation has been realised, there remain the tricky issues of feminine deportment, posture, behaviour and voice to be confronted.  These are crucial for any girl who wants to venture out successfully. Watching women in everyday situations is very informative about body movement but, again, it's down to practice.....and more practice.  In truth, a female sounding voice is probably the single hardest element to achieve and few master it totally.  YouTube has lots of helpful videos.

At a personal level, I would love to take that process one step further by becoming an actor specialising in playing female roles.  I could play a stern Victorian Lady, a sassy saloon girl, a bashful bride, a cute cancan dancer, a beautiful ballerina, a sexy maid, a busty Bunny Girl and even a precocious Shirley Temple like princess.  Why not!  Acting is also a creative process.  It's about becoming someone else for the purpose of a performance.  Is it really so strange to imagine a male actor playing a female part is a movie, play etc.  It has, in fact, been done successfully and I'm not talking about Tootsie or Some Like It Hot (both great movies) which were about male characters crossdressing as female characters!

Any good actor will bring something different to a part within the parameters of the character concerned.  Therefore, if a man can appear convincing as a woman, shouldn't he be considered on merit regarding whether he can play a particular female role.  I think the answer has to be yes, otherwise it is simple gender prejudice and sex discrimination. 
 
In fact, there are several specific female characters I want to play -if any movie directors or television producers are reading this.  Scarlett O'Hara is a fabulous part and so too is the Governess in The King and I.  Strong Victorian women with some fantastic gowns to boot! They've been played by women long enough.......it's time to make way for someone new to wear the crinolines.

Carlingford

Carlingford is a small town on the North East Coast of Ireland.  It is one of the most scenic areas in Ireland and, fortunately, for me, it is not too far from my hometown of Dundalk.  When other girls have visited, we have gone to Carlingford to enjoy the scenery and, of course, take some photos.

I went there yesterday and as I enjoyed the blustery but beautiful day, I thought about all the friends I have made and met and those that I still have to meet.  If you ever come to visit me, insist that I take you to Carlingford.

Carlingford Lough

 

Venturing Out

We all start off in the wardrobe but most of us want to enjoy the bright lights!

I remember the first time I ever went out en femme. It was 6.45pm on a Monday night in early March 1999 –one tends to remember these momentous events. It was something that I had been working towards for about 10 years–never accuse me of rushing things. Yes, there are reasons to be hesitant but most of the fear is, ultimately, irrational when confronted head on. Planning the first venture out (especially choosing the time of day and selecting the route) can greatly help provide any needed re-assurance. In any event, when the time finally came, I wasn’t scared………I was bloody scared.

Shopping Centre

All the reasons for passing up the opportunity to go out were replaying themselves in my mind over and over again. However, I opened the front door, looked out –asked myself one more time if I was mad- and put one foot in front of the other. I didn’t go far that night but I made two big discoveries. First, the absolute necessity of suitable shoes when walking on concrete footpaths. Second, going out into the big bad world wasn’t actually that bad.  I tell a lie, I felt on a great big high. I wanted to do it again right away!

Since then, I have been out numerous times but not enough. I still have nerves, even today, before I open the door but they seem to vanish once I step outside. Unfortunately, I go out mostly on my own which is okay but nowhere near as good as sharing the experience with others.

However, I was lucky enough to be out last night (3 October) in company even if it did rain all day. We went for some drinks and then went to the local shopping centre. Maybe we should have reversed that order!

Cheers!

As you can see from the two photos with this post I go for blending in when I'm out.  Having said that I might have been a tad overdressed for late night shopping in Tesco but I didn't get any funny looks.  That's where confidence is critical.  On one of my first ventures out, I was walking up the street as my brother turned the corner towards me.  There was nothing for it but to keep cool (even though my heart was thumping) and believe I could carry it of. Similarly, when I ended up in the same small restaurant as my cousin.

Anyway, what I really want to say is that it is crucial to take that first faltering step otherwise the world can be a very small place. The sense of achievement will make your confidence soar and there is no turning back. You are out and about and will keep wondering why it took so long to do something so simple!


As Arthur Daley (late of Minder) would no doubt say -the world is your lobster!

Victoriana

I adore Victorian costume so where did it all begin………………

As a child, I watched The Forsythe Saga –a Victorian epic tale (or in modern parlance a generously starched soap opera) on BBC television.  It gripped the nation with its storyline of the ruthless Soames, the beautiful Irene and the kindly Jolyon.

However, it was not the story or the characters that interested me, it was the dresses.  I was six years old and enthralled by the gorgeous gowns the ladies wore.  If I was enthralled by the outer clothes, I was mesmerized by a scene where a maid was dressing one of the main female characters.  The underwear while very pretty seemed –even to a six year old- complicated and cumbersome.  I had never seen a corset or a bustle before and could not work out why one appeared designed to make the waist smaller while the other apparently had the opposite purpose of making the backside seem enormous. If only, I had read Sexual Psychology rather than the Secret Seven or Famous Five I would have known but the local library had placed all the good stuff on the top shelf out of the reach of innocent (!) minds.

Anyway, it was that scene that triggered my thoughts pathways in a life changing way.  I wanted one of those divine dresses and the wonderfully elaborate underthings that went with it. For some reason, Santa never delivered!

Over the years, there were many more opportunities to see, on television, examples of the various fashion that characterised the Victorian Era. Perhaps the two most distinctive aspects were the voluminous crinoline hoop (designed by the engineers of Napoleon III to stimulate the silk industry) and the bustle (clearly designed by a Freudian to stimulate the sexual focus of the male brain).

Those television dramas always had leading ladies in magnificent period costumes.  Elizabeth in The Onedin Line and Glencora in The Pallisers were my favourite. Eventually, my adolescent mind began to understand that these women were not restricted by their clothes but liberated by them.  They used the mystique of what lay beneath the hooped skirt and the sexual symbolism of the bustled derriere to accentuate their sexuality to get what they wanted in what was ostensibly a man’s world. I would soon discover that the arch proponent of this approach was a certain Miss Scarlett O’Hara (late of Tara).  

My admiration of these master manipulators also caused me to reflect that I was drawn to strong rather than weak female characters.  I wanted to be one too so call me Lady Pamela!

To conclude….life really is strange, full of twists and turns and corsets and petticoats.  As a child, little did I know as I laced up my football boots that one day I would be lacing up my corsets, instead of pulling up my no nonsense football shorts I would be drawing up my frilled and embroidered pantalettes and instead of chasing wildly after a football I would delicately lift the front hem of my hooped skirt so as not to trip as I glided gracefully across the floor.

And finally, for the record, I have a Diploma in Costume History…….

Hooped and Petticoated

Day Dress!

My Style

Like most women I seem to have fallen in love with –or maybe just become comfortable with- a particular dress style.  It’s not quite twinset and pearls –that would be traditional conservative- so I prefer to call it contemporary conservative.  

I think one of the reasons for my choice is its passability factor.  I adore saloon girl dresses.  But, sadly, they raise certain credibility issues with the audience when doing a presentation on organisational failure amid shouts of “Over here, Miss, I want a brandy and a glimpse of your garters”.  Equally, I’m very partial to cancan dresses.  However, flashing one’s petticoats and frilly knickers with a series of high kicks to get attention in the local butcher’s shop is hardly the way to go unnoticed even if does propel one to the top of the queue and a discount.

It’s also possible that I dress the way I do because stylish mature women dressed that way back in the 1960s and 70s and they must have influenced me even if I didn’t know it at the time.  I say that because I feel that I dress like several of my teachers (better be specific, female teachers). As Miss Rafferty tried to instil the horrors of French grammar into my unappreciative brain I was actually thinking I would look great in that pleated mini-kilt and fitted top.  No surprise therefore that my French vocabulary is extremely limited………..jupon (skirt), robe (dress), parfum (perfume), corseterie (corsetry) and best of all lingerie which is lingerie in every civilised language and, therefore, easy to remember and brilliant to wear.

All in all, therefore, I’m more M&S than S&M –most of the time! 

The rest of the time I can be found in the guise of Lady Pamela Lennon my Victorian Aristocratic ancestor who led the now largely forgotten original feminist programme to turn boys into girls in the early 1870s.  She was a hoot and was most definitely more S&M than M&S.   However, that’s another story for another day.

So ends the first post!