Now that I have discussed Roles (and Multiple Roles) and Impressions, it is time to go back to the questions I posed about being an imposter or intruder last week.

The other day, I found myself having to switch back and forth between my two selves.

I woke up and went to a neighborhood cafe to write my blog as Janie.

But, I knew that my lunch was going to be with family members who expected “him” and this was to be followed by a little road trip to meet some people in the evening: more Janie-business.

It is a bit of a trip switching back and forth. Here is a stream of consciousness about my day: I put on an androgynous t-shirt and light-colored feminine jeans that roll up to capris, showing off my new anklet; I went to the bathroom at the cafe in the morning an used the women’s room; while working, my hair was getting in my face, so I took out my hair clip and pinned my hair up; just before leaving for lunch, I rolled down my jeans to cover my legs, and went back to the bathroom – this time the men’s room; as I was leaving, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror which reminded my to take that hairclip out of my hair (sheesh!), at which time I decided that a manly pony-tail was more in order; I had my lunch date, and then transformed myself back to the way I looked in the morning for the drive…

Each change of clothes entailed a change of mental focus and body language. I certainly prefer to just get comfortable in one role and stay that way for extended periods, that’s for sure; this was exhausting.

But, I AM both genders. I take BOTH roles quite seriously, but one at a time. I was never pretending even through this crazy day. At any moment, I was exactly what I presented myself to be; no deception, no ulterior motive, no interloping.

Ultimately, it dawned on me that the feeling of being an imposter was not, and is not at all about how others see me but how I see myself.

What’s So Bad About a Boy Who Wants to Wear a Dress?

This weekend’s New York Times Magazine cover story had the same name as this post. I recommend it to you. Click here for the article.

When you read it, note the hundreds and hundreds of comments it generated in its first days. That should give you an idea of how sensitive this issue is.

It is astounding to see how the world has changed, and also to see a pattern of commentary that shows some folks stuck in the past and others racing ahead of where we are.

Any sea change in social structure tends to follow the same course. Think of the resistance to women wearing pants, or becoming capable leaders, or showing their elbows in public, or getting the vote.

The most amusing thing about all this is that people look at what their life was like, what their parents did, and perhaps what their grandparents did and think they know all of history – enough for sure to judge what’s normal and socially acceptable.

The truth is that boys wore frilly tops and skirts, the same as girls, for many years and in many cultures in previous centuries.

Strict rules dividing the sexes were put in place probably for religious reasons relating to the fear of homosexuality. Since then, they have slowly been peeled away – re”pealed” if you wish.

Simple thinking places everyone in easy-to-understand little boxes. But, there will always be those who don’t fit, and are doomed to bridle at the confines of their restrictions, or blow them up and, in so doing, become either a hero or a disgrace.

Well-meaning parents wanting the best for their children, tend to direct their kids to the tried and true – the ways that have the best odds of succeeding.

But, that’s not the kind of thinking that produces exceptional people, and I dare say that our greatest thinkers, musicians, performers, leaders have all bucked that trend and instead gone after what is improbable.

They dared to dream and to color outside the lines. We should too.

Flog Blog

So many people have told me how transcendent an experience being flogged can be, how it can transport you to another emotional dimension, how pain and pleasure can become so intertwined.

Well, I gave it a shot tonight.

I haven’t been spanked since I was a mischievous child. I didn’t like it then, and it hasn’t improved much with age.

Of course, the practitioners of this art take great trouble to slowly bring you up and carefully bring you down; it is hardly the stunning, shocking strap of a disapproving parent or teacher. Pains are taken to use various different type of impact – sharp, flat, heavy, light, etc. and to vary the rhythm and stroke, placement and intensity.

But, after about a half-an-hour of this kind of attention, I wasn’t moved by the experience,even though I understood a great deal more about it. What I enjoyed most were alternately the flogger’s caresses and her pulling my head back by my hair to speak to me.

I can see where flogging might be an interesting part of a power exchange scene – where one allows another to take control over them. But, in and of itself, it falls a little flat for me.

Gift Horse, Mouth–Need I Say More?

As I throw around the idea of whether Janie’s place in my life is for good or not, it helps to remember that my experience so far has been something like having the Red Sea parted to allow me to walk, in heels, down life’s road.

So many CDs or tgirls are confronted by daunting obstacles in their efforts to become what they need to be. They show courage and perseverance and determination, and often suffer through heart-wrenching compromises. I salute them.

IMG_3243a1I often ask myself whether I wouldn’t have quit in the face of their challenges. But, I also wonder why I keep questioning something that, it seems, I was destined for, if for no other reason than that it has been so easy.

I am the right size, and the right proportions. I have feminine facial features (well some, anyway). I can buy my clothes off the rack in regular stores and my shoes in women’s shoe stores. I live in an extremely tolerant city. My job and financial well-being are not threatened by it. My relationship is not an issue, and in fact has been improved by it. My social network is a relatively small concern. I have my hair, and it turns out to be curly and fun. I have a relatively feminine voice. I find it easy to walk in heels. I have a decent fashion sense. Feminine posture has actually helped my back problems. Janie’s presence in my life is the answer to a number of personal issues (maybe not the best answer, but not a bad answer). I could go on…

It’s almost as if it would be ungracious to turn my back on all that…

Green Acres is the Place to Be

Imagine a couple living in Manhattan, with a subscription to the opera, an enjoyment of the restaurants and nightlife and shopping, and the buzz of the city… when the husband, 20 years into this lifestyle, taps his wife on the shoulder and says he has decided to become a farmer and they need to move to the countryside.

“No, New York is where I’d rather stay. I get allergic smelling hay. I just adore a penthouse view; darling I love you, but give me Park Avenue.”

How many women would go along? How many would trade in “the stores” and “Times Square” for “chores” and “fresh air?”

She would have to deal with changing her lifestyle, finding new friends and losing many old ones; in many respects she would feel like the rug was being pulled out from under her and her expectations of how they were going to live their lives. And, of course, the question of, “How long have you been thinking about this without telling me?” would come up, along with a sense of betrayal. If the man is unwilling to compromise his choice, there is every chance that marriage will fall apart.

The relationship issues brought about by this change of heart by the husband are, in my view, very similar to – and quite probably much less challenging than – what happens when a man tells his wife he needs to live as a woman.

And, just because we may feel it is something about which we have no choice doesn’t make it much, if at all, different for her.

She still has to cope with a change in her lifestyle that she never bargained for. She still has to deal with the reality of laying waste to her social life. And she has to deal with knowing that her spouse kept this information from her for many years, regardless of any justification.

On top of that, sexuality and sexual attraction are fickle things. Asking “Why ‘just because I changed my gender’ are you no longer sexually interested in me?” is a hugely unfair question, even when qualified by the fact that “I am still the same person inside.”

It is only a lucky few whose mates will say, “[I am your] wife, Goodbye, city-life… Green Acres we are there!”

Feeling Female

quotes1You have lived in and enjoyed your male body for roughly 40+ years, some of your pals, even longer. Given that you have this need to “express yourself in a feminine manner”, just how exactly do you quotes1 - closeexperience that? When you go out, ‘en femme’, do you actually FEEL female? Is it about being seen and treated as a female? Does it not feel extremely odd, even disingenuous, going back and forth?

Any of you who have followed the comments thread on my last post understand all too well the unpleasantness of dealing with a relentless commentator trying to teach us a lesson.

I plead guilty to allowing the whole mess to continue for far too long and allowing her to hijack the discussion. I will do better next time. I see it as my job to create a safe space for you all to share your feelings and make your opinions known, and I faltered. Sorry.

That said, our commentator does have her moments, such as posing the interesting questions at the top of this post.

And so, on with my answer… (I hope readers will offer their own in the comments.)

First, I want to address what I see as an inaccurate inference in the question. I do not become Janie to go out, or to be seen. And, if I may further clarify another potential misapprehension in the question, I do not become Janie by getting all dressed up.Snapshot_20120526b

Like any person, I have feelings and moods. It just so happens that I understand some of my moods – the bigger, broader ones – in gender terms. There are times when I feel feminine, and others (though fewer and further between than before) when I feel like a guy. I have found that I am happier following my moods than trying to overrule them, so when I feel feminine, I am Janie; when I don’t, I am not.

My clothes follow my spirit, and not the other way around.

And, when I am Janie, that presentation communicates to the outside world that I wish to be treated as female – not for kicks, but because that is what I am.Snapshot_20120526_1b

Explained this way, it should be apparent that it is not disingenuous. I am not faking my femininity, but rather, honestly expressing it. To address the other part of the question, I will not deny that one may consider it odd.

Do I actually FEEL female? This is a hard question to answer, since I am not sure what “feeling female” means. I’ve wondered about that for some time – how, apart from sexual feelings, does feeling female differ from feeling male? 

Rather than referencing my entire sense of self at any moment – as I imagine a genetic woman might, including her masculine characteristics – I often perceive my femininity by its difference from my masculinity. I don’t feel as competitive, aggressive, arrogant or powerful. My attention is much more focused on serenity and beauty and people.

And, then, of course, there is the huge sexual difference, which spills over into many other areas – feelings of attraction to men, vulnerability, sensuality, and so on.

I would certainly be interested in hearing opinions, especially from GGs, on what it means to “feel female.” And, as I said before, I’d love to know your answers to these questions. (If it puts any of you more at ease to share, know that our “relentless commentator” has become so exasperated with me that she has given up.)

Not a Man

IMG_6750a1For me, the biggest doubts about being a woman concern the betrayal that it may be of the guy that I always understood myself to be, who I thought I was, who I thought I was going to be.

I use the word “guy” because I am not sure that I ever entirely got to the point of considering myself a “man.” There were and maybe still are issues of maturity and other things that are mixed into that psychological mess, but I never acquired, in my own eyes, the gravitas that being a man – as I understand the term – involves.

And, more than likely, being female as I am now is either a cause of or a result of that same thought process.

Or, maybe both.


It has been quite a comedown, getting back to “normal” after being away. SC1_8687small

I was female non-stop for a sizable number of consecutive days, and without any restrictions on where I could or couldn’t, or fears of running into anyone.

You may have noticed that I was enjoying myself…

Now, I am back to worrying about my neighbors and certain areas of town – and it feels even more restrictive than before I left.

I am sure I will re-accustom myself to things, but for now it imposes a burden on being Janie that both discourages me from bothering and weighs on me regardless.

The disparity between the way I feel when I am away and when I am home may naturally fade in my consciousness with a bit of time, but I would be a fool to disregard it, or allow it to go unaddressed.

Something’s gotta give… either my actions or my attitude…

Human Rights

The government of Ontario has become the first jurisdiction in North America to add gender identity and gender expression to the list of prohibited grounds of discrimination under its Human Rights Code.

Woo! hoo!

But, while I am ecstatic to be protected from discrimination, I cannot escape a nagging feeling of dread.

I am generally wary of the abuse of power by the unelected officials of Human Rights Commissions, who have repeatedly shown – at least in this country – an inclination to overstep their mandate and meddle in the freedoms of people to disagree or express opinions they don’t like, without regard for balance or reasonableness.

I guess I am hoping that these new protections are not abused, either by the Commission or by claimants.

It will be up to some unseen bureaucrat to determine what “gender expression” means. Will it cover someone who likes to crossdress occasionally at work? How about men, or MTF trans, in 6-inch platform heels and micro-miniskirts? Will it allow businesses to impose any kind of dress-code on trans people, or require that they conform to the expectations of the gender they are presenting? Will it allow a business to ask that a person choose one gender or the other?

Applying these protections with some sort of sanity and balance with the needs of work and business decorum would be wonderful.

But, to me there’s a danger here.

As the HRC has shown a tendency to go all the way rather than take a balanced approach to its mandate, a very positive piece of legislation may turn into a mockery rather than a shining example of the protections we seek.

One example: I would be happy to see the same expectations for grooming and attire applied to an MTF trans-person as to women generally. To allow the trans-woman to come to work in wholly inappropriate female attire and successfully claim that this is the way she expresses her gender would undermine the serious and important aims of the new law.

That would be a huge setback. Other jurisdictions would take note.

Let’s hope these badly needed protections are applied judiciously…

Doing What Comes Naturally

If you read my recent comments on the effects being Janie has had on my life (here, and here), you should note that I have never indicated that I had a torturing or desperate need to express my femininity. I am no transsexual.IMG_8251a

It should be relatively clear that the female side of my self – which is utterly genuine – is something I express because it serves me.

Yes, it is something that comes naturally to me.

Yes, it is the most fulfilling expression of my sexuality.

Yes, I love being this way.

Yes, I am hoping to follow my feminine leanings in terms of building a better life for myself – maybe I can improve on the results I achieved as a man.

There are countless reasons why being female works for me, personally – coincidences, conveniences and others, which I will recount for you one day – and I have to say that I have doubts as to whether I would have followed this path if not for a virtual Red Sea parting before me along this path.

(I suppose some might say that the life context that has facilitated my being Janie was the result of the way I am rather than a happy coincidence… dunno, maybe…)

And, lately, a new development: the boost in determination and self-confidence I have received from being Janie has filtered over to my male side and resuscitated his energy.

For the longest time it was hard to yield my skirt for his pants; I found it quite upsetting. I wasn’t enjoying my guy life even before (which, I hasten to add is wholly different than not enjoying being a guy), but then all the drudgery was left to his side of the equation with half the time to deal with it and things became progressively worse.

Plus, I was having such a good time as Janie that any time I had to stop was frustrating for me.

Now, though, he has been feeling better, and I am enjoying his (limited) presence. I am finding a better balance, but also, Janie is volunteering to take over some of his burden.

Rather than a transition, I see this as a hugely supportive step for my male side.

Though it is but a remote possibility, it vaguely occurs to me that I might be travelling in a large, multi-year healing circle back to where I started. I doubt it, but ya never know!

100 Steps Back

There was a time when I dressed only to go out to a club, or on a trip, in search of, basically, sexually charged fun.

Now, why was that not good enough for me again? Why did I need to go further?IMG_8148a1

Part of the issue was the kinds of connections I was making. I craved something more.

Of course, my friends are great, but they are all across the continent, and as such, not part of my day-to-day life. Also, as much as I enjoy their company, I have found it hard to make deeper connections given the context and frenetic nature of our get-togethers.

In addition, I wanted to meet a nice local guy who would treat me like a human being and date me or invest his time in a friendship with me, rather than a guy in a bar who was intent on having sex with me that night and hopefully never crossing paths with me again.

To meet a real guy, I reasoned that I needed a real life.

Simple. But hardly complete…

(The rest, tomorrow.)

Time in a Bottle

Last time, I spoke about trade-offs that I make in my effort to be capable of assuming both masculine and feminine roles.

In a conversation with a friend, who confided that it took her 3 hours to get ready each and every time she went out, it hit me there are some compromises I am simply not willing to make.

I am not judging her – she’s totally fabulous, in fact! But, the truth immediately hit home that among the many things I am willing to change, give up or massage in order to allow Janie to flourish in my life, a 3-hour lead time was nowhere to be found.

I am just the girl-next-door… ok, with a twist… and maybe some exotic spice added. The point is that I am just regular people, and I want to be able to be who I am any day, every day.  It is not a performance; it’s not an event; it’s just life.

My life is mostly just about going out for dinner, dating, hanging out with friends or shopping. It usually takes me about fifteen minutes to get ready to go out; if it took 3 hours, my night would be over before it started.

It’s simply a question of practicality for me. I am Janie almost every single day, and a 3-hour lead time would discourage me mightily. Something that’s supposed to be natural wouldn’t feel that way to me if I had to go through a 3-hour process each time.

Trade Offs

I spoke last time about my concern about getting a bruise while playing hockey as a guy.

But, that is just a little part of the bargain I have made with the devil.

As I live on both sides of the gender divide, I am finding more and more that compromises have to be made on each side in order to allow the other side to thrive.IMG_6648 -1a

For the most part, the compromises on Janie’s part are about the things I don’t do to myself – like hormones and breasts and facial feminization.

Though I never really quite thought it all through in advance, my guy side has been making compromises that are becoming all the more obvious as I go on.

First thing to go was working out with heavy weights; I replaced that with low weight-high reps to tone but not build bulk. Easy enough, but of course, I do not have the power I used to.

I will no longer do anything that requires strenuous use of my hands that might develop callouses, or worse: big, thick, strong hands.

Coming home after a manicure, I realized that fixing the light that was broken on the side of the house was out, as was getting my hands dirty in the garden. In fact, I am hesitant to unthinkingly grab at anything for fear of breaking a nail.

Sometimes, being female can be crippling!

Of course, I won’t keep this up for long. I have some events to go to and I want to look nice. But, I can see how a focus on feminine beauty can get in the way of actually doing anything.

It is high time I learned that I simply cannot be both to the extent I could be one if I dropped the other. It seems obvious, but I am only now cluing in.

It’s all about balance. And, I am quite lucky to be able to choose where to set the dial.

Vegas, Baby!

I’ve told you all  in years past (see here, here, or here for example) about our annual Las Vegas shindig… well, it’s on again, starting today!

I am already in Sin City, but things haven’t gotten underway just yet. Still, no shortage of things to do…

I spent the better part of the day at a ghost town not too far from here that is basically a million great photo ops! Just the perfect place for me!

We took literally hundreds of photos, and if 50 of them are not among the 100 best I’ve ever taken, I’ll eat my hat!

No, check that – I have eaten way too much already – and I have only been here for a couple of days!


My friends are arriving starting today, and the party is about to blast off. For all you kittens that want to follow along in our debauchery and merry-making, check out Twitter under the hashtag #VWS12.

As a Canadian, it is a royal pain for me to use twitter in the U.S. since I either have to find a wifi connection or roll up the truck to Fort Knox to pay for using their cellular network. But for my loyal followers, no effort is too large, right?

Pampering Myself

As I am going to meet my girlfriends after a long time apart, I decided to treat myself to my first ever pedicure, and added a manicure (less nail color – for the benefit of IMG_6780 -1athe customs and immigration officials, as well as the airline employees who, in Canada, are not supposed to allow men who look like women on board a plane).

It was a wonderful experience.

IMG_6817 -1aThe place I chose had really great massage chairs in which to sit while the beautician cleaned, softened and massaged my feet and legs, followed by attending to the specific IMG_6765 -1amatter of doing my nails.  A similarly sensual experience attached to my manicure.

When I was done, I was prettified and relaxed.  All in all, a good start to my trip!

Bacon-Stuffed Janie

Well, there goes my diet!

IMG_6868a1I have been in Las Vegas for not even 24 hours, and I have probably consumed more calories than I normally do in a week.IMG_6886a

Instead of a small bowl of granola and yogurt for breakfast today, I started with a Bloody Maria and finished with a giant portion of Sage-fried Chicken and Bacon-Stuffed Waffles with maple syrup.IMG_6874a

But I will say that GF’s “Hand-Hammered Pork Tenderloin Benedict” took the prize for gluttony. The photo doesn’t do it justice; it is 12 inches across if it is an inch!

(As always, click on each photo to enlarge it.)

Um… Is This the Men’s Room?

I shouldn’t really get a kick out of confusing the poor uninitiated, but for some reason, I do.

I was in a suburban restaurant the other day, totally in guy mode, when the need arose to use the loo. Of course, I went to the men’s room.

As I was standing at the sink, washing my hands, the door (which was slightly behind me and to my left) opened and a man came forward. I turned to look and saw him stop in his tracks as he took in the sight of me, look back at the sign on the door, then back at me.

Then, he stepped back and let the door close.

A few seconds later, the door opened again, and I turned to him and said with a friendly smile, “Yes, you’re in the right place.” I paused, aware that he still wasn’t completely buying it, and reassured him, “And, so am I.”

He snuck one more glance at the sign on the door, and then, meekly, entered.

“Happens to me all the time,” I commented, though, in point of fact, this has never happened to me before.

It is one thing to be mistaken for a female when in male clothing and of a male mind, but quite another for someone to see me with what is effectively a sign pointing at me saying, “Man!” and not be able to find the male in me. He chose to doubt the sign rather than my femininity.

Considering that I am trying to lead a serviceable male life part of the time, I shouldn’t like this development. After all, what strangers see is what friends see.

Shouldn’t like it at all… Winking smile

Thoughts on Thoughts

As regular followers have no doubt noticed, I have not been posting with my usual regularity recently.

Ah, the blogger’s life…

In the years that I have been writing this blog, I have never lacked for things to write about – such is the nature of the wondrous self-discovery that is part of the t-girl life.

And, to be honest, there are no shortage of ideas rolling around in my empty large head (too large for my body, if you ask me) at the moment.

The problem for me has been quite the opposite. I have had so many thoughts and emotions flitting in and out of my consciousness lately, that I feel like a kitten among mice running around and birds flying about… I can’t focus long enough on one to pin it down.

And, the feelings have been particularly personal and intense, which makes it all the harder to be able to distill them into coherent thoughts worthy of sharing.

So, bear with me. Stuff’s coming.

My introspective interlude is about to be rudely interrupted by a week of wild t-girl partying (dare I say debauchery?) in Las Vegas and renewal of wonderful friendships.

I will be sure to report from Sin City, so keep an eye out.  And, perhaps during lazy days by the pool recovering from the prior night’s shenanigans, there will be time for deeper thoughts and an openness to receiving the real truths I have been seeking.

Keep it tuned here and follow me on twitter. I am going to try to tweet in real time, and I believe the girls are going to use the hashtag #VWS12.

How Do You Love Me? Let Me Judge the Ways

Sometimes, the most fundamental questions are sitting right in front of your face and you think and philosophize and argue about so many things, never noticing that basic question.

A discussion group in which I am a contributor provided me with a thought about dating that I read, and then stopped, and then read again, and then and ever since, am completely puzzled as to why the issue never even occurred to me, nevermind the answer.

Here it is:quotes1 - close


When dating, do you want a man to like you as a female or as trans?



Maybe you all out there are different than I am, but it occurred to me that I never really considered the difference.

For the author of that quote, the question was easily resolved; she is a transsexual who wants her boy parts gone, so she wants to be appreciated as a female, and any appreciation for what she is trying to shed is patently unwelcome.

But, it’s different for me. Not only do I like both male and female aspects of myself and the ability to change from one to the other, but I seem to have developed a certain comfort for the particular kind of female that I am, if you know what I mean.

It’s a good thing too, because retaining the ability to assume the role of male or female involves certain compromises that make my feminine appearance more masculine than it need be. Among others, I have a flat chest, I have a strong chin, and my skin’s texture is masculine. I recognize that my appeal lies in the way I am so much the same yet so much different than a GG, and I have embraced that.

I expect to be treated exactly as a woman would be treated, both inside and outside of the bedroom. In fact, I insist on it.

However, I recognize that I am not exactly a woman, and that the men who are interested in me are after something that women can’t or don’t offer them. This could be an experimentation with a “gay” experience, an easier emotional connection or more compatible sexual attitude or maybe just a kinky time.

If I could snap my fingers and turn into a fully-equipped female whenever I wanted to, and then back again, I would absolutely do it. Then, I would want to be desired purely as a woman.

But, as that is not possible in the real world, I can either hope to be desired for what I seem to be (and perhaps wish, at times, to be) or for what I am.

My answer to the question is this: I am happy to be desired as either, and in a sense, as both. I want to be desired and treated as female, but with the understanding that my femininity is a special one.

Or, I could answer the question this way: I have had men interested in me who thought I was GG-female. When I have told them I was a t-girl, their reactions have ranged from polite excuses to increased enthusiasm. Should I prefer the first or the second group?

And, beyond that, should I prefer those who want me in spite of my “difference” or because of it?

Hey, wasn’t that the question in the first place?

Take This Down

“Ok, I’m done writing,” she said, throwing her pen and pad on the floor.

Her skirt fluttered down shortly thereafter.

Sitting down and pulling one knee to her chest, she looked over at him with a strange mix of exasperation and seductiveness, dominance and submissiveness. “Next time you ask me to ‘take this down, Miss Black,’ you had better mean something completely different…”


Go Ahead, Dear

I’ve been Ma’am-ed before on several occasions while in male mode, but this is a whole new thing.

When someone refers to you as “Ma’am,” they see you as a blank stranger – another person in line, a customer, someone in their way… whatever.

But, today, I was getting on the plane, and a fairly good-looking man in his 40s or 50s stepped out of the aisle to let me pass, looking straight into my eyes with a smile and softly saying, “Go ahead, dear.”

Certainly not an affirmation of my masculinity, that’s for sure!

I am equal parts puzzled, concerned and pleased.

Puzzled because the only difference I see between my male self today and in years past when this never happened is the length of my hair (and it was tied back in a pony tail, BTW).

Concerned because evidence is mounting that I may be losing my grip on my masculine self.

And pleased… well, that’s because it’s an affirmation of the fact that my feminine self is real and perceptible to others.

For me, the goal has always been to be one or the other. It has usually been a struggle to conceal the male part when being Janie. But, now, the challenge for me seems to lie on both sides of the gender divide.

Cappuccino and Muffin

As I do a lot of work on my computer, I like to get out among people instead of being alone at home.

The result has been a sharp increase in coffee intake, and an appreciation for what’s good and and intolerance for everything else.

I generally drink cappuccino instead of regular coffee – and I do so primarily because it contains a full serving of milk (as opposed to a tablespoon of cream). That makes it less fattening and much healthier.

There are two main things that make or break a cappuccino: the coffee and the milk. IMG_5850b

The espresso must be fresh, the beans must be ground to the right fineness and the steam temperature and pressure must be just right to coax all of the good flavor and none of the bitterness out of the beans. The visual confirmation that this has been done correctly is a layer of crema on top of the espresso which is thick enough to hold up a sugar cube for a couple of seconds. (Incidentally, any place that draws its espresso into a shot glass first and then loses half the crema in pouring it into the coffee cup has lost me right there.)

Then, the milk must be frothed so that it turns into a thick, creamy topping; the air should be so well incorporated into the milk that no bubbles are perceptible. It takes some talent to get it right, and involves technique and speed; it should only take a few seconds to froth the milk – more and the milk will be too hot to froth properly. (If you are ever served a boiling hot cappuccino, you can be sure it will be awful.)

Combine the wonderfully potent espresso with the creamy, soothing milk and you have an intense and pleasurable drink over which to contemplate life, or write that report. Add a magnificent wild berry muffin and what could be better?

Mary, Mary, Quite a Pair, We!


Mary was one of the first people I connected with on a personal level online, and wouldn’t you know it, she lives within commutable distance from me!

Well, it took the better part of 5 years, but we finally met! And, I am glad we did.m412a1a

Her clever and funny comments on my flickr photos belie a creative intelligence and wit, and so it is no surprise that Mary-Margret is a delight in person – in fact, even more winning in the flesh than online.

We laughed, we danced, we had a great time.

Can’t you tell?

The T-Girl Has No Clothes (Actually She Does)

In all the talk about the reasons for and against posting nude photos, an interesting and truly profound related issue was missed, i.e., what makes a naked t-girl female at all (especially where she has had no surgery or hormones)?

Differently posed, how do you go about being “trans” in a theoretical world where there are no clothes?

That is, in essence, the question asked of me by an insightful reader comment on a post from last summer entitled Cause or Effect? that questioned whether I was trans or not.  His feeling was that my answer to that question – or my attempts to answer it – would provide insight on the subject.

And, I think he was right.

[Parenthetically, note for reference how eloquently the photo of me walking nude on the highway speaks to this entire issue – or could if it were uncensored.]


It is impossible to crossdress in a world where there is no dress, and no dressing.  So, clearly, in a world with no clothes, a crossdresser (defined here as a man who dresses like a woman but maintains his male identity throughout) is simply a man.

Clothes or not, on an external level, part of what sets women (generally, to varying degrees) apart from men is their preoccupation with their appearance.  Practically, this means things like adorning oneself with longer hair, perfume, jewelry, nail-polish, makeup, etc., removing bodily hair, buffing off calluses on feet and hands, caring for ones skin, taking care not to be too rough and tumble so as to bruise or scar oneself… 

These external visual clues are more than just skin deep; they are manifestations of a genuine feminine way of being.  But, let’s take the exercise further and go beyond vanity.

Internally, I have felt much more in tune with my body, with my movements and with sensuality.  In my feminine role, I am more sensitive, more tentative, more nurturing, giving, yielding, quieter than as a man.  I listen more carefully and seem to be aware of more of the background (emotions, motivations, context) of what is being said than simply the words themselves. 

In a world without clothes, I believe that not only would I easily be able to feel feminine, but that I would be perceived in that way by others (as I have, at times, even while wearing men’s clothes).  Femininity is perceived in posture and in ways of relating to others.  There may even be an aura. 

Of course, it would all stand in stark contrast to the obvious physical manifestation that is unobscured by fig leaf or fabric. 

Am I trans?  The tempting inference from the above is yes.  But, there remains the question of whether my behaviors and even emotions (and perhaps choice of clothing?) are the product of nature or nurture.

Which leads to interesting thoughts about dropping gender labels entirely.  What difference does it make whether I am man, woman, trans, both or neither?  Is there a need to label this behavior or that emotion masculine or feminine?  Wouldn’t things be better if we could just say “I just am.” 

I am what I am; I like what I like; I do what I do. Why do we need more? 

Why Do Nudes?

There is much to be said for the artistic merit of tasteful nudity.  I have covered that.

There are many who are simply uncomfortable with nudity regardless.  I have covered that too.

Furthermore, I have discussed long ago (on my, now defunct, Naughty Blog) the idea  that nudity is a futile idea for adding interest to my blog.  Once I have done that, what do I do for an encore?  After all, it will only be new and exciting for a short time.  If I find that my creativity has waned to the point that I can do no better than falling back on nudity as a draw, I am better off quitting beforehand as it is only delaying the inevitable, at the potential cost of my reputation.IMG_2853a1

Question is then, “Why do it?” 

There is no doubt that certain people will be offended, or think less of me.  There is the possibility that I will regret it later.  So, why even consider it?

The answer is simply this: it excites me.

Yes, it excites me sexually a bit, but I don’t expect that to last.  And anyway, that’s not what I am talking about.

It excites me as a potential form of expression. 

I have been writing this blog for a long time, trying to express my feelings, thoughts, needs, desires and so on in words.  I believe that much of what I am about can be expressed more profoundly in art.

Some of it requires no nudity at all, of course. 

And, I am not interested in nudity for its own sake.  I am not interested in being shocking or titillating, except to convey a message.

As a t-girl, my sexuality is a wondrous thing, contradictory and amorphous – and an essential part of the whole experience.  I don’t know if I will find someone who can capture the right message in a photo or on canvas, but I am going to look.

Then, I will have one more chance to change my mind.

Compulsive Crossdressing

I recently published a post on Tough Love, which invited members of our community to be more realistic and perhaps judicious in their unconditional support of crossdressers.

Given the consequences of our behavior, I think any of us should be more than happy to defend our choices against strong, well-intentioned opposition.  Such an exercise can provide us with more clarity and a better understanding of ourselves.

As I stated in that previous post, I had a comment from a blogger who claims to have been emancipated by his escape from the habit (or addiction) of crossdressing.

For those CDs in our midst who want to read a good challenge to their decision to wear women’s clothes, I refer you to an interesting post on his site “Healing From Crossdressing.”

The post to which I refer is his attempt to equate crossdressing with pornography, both being unhealthy compulsions. 

It is not that I agree with his arguments, but I think there is enough there to set a gurl thinking about what she is feeling.  And, that’s the point.

I went through it and tried to keep an open mind about each of his arguments.  Some clearly held no water for me; others really provoked some thinking. 

In the end, I was unconvinced that my crossdressing was a compulsion, negative or otherwise.  But everybody’s different, and you may be surprised at your own conclusion.  Or not.

Tough Love

I received a comment a ways back from a blogger who claims to have been emancipated by his escape from the habit (or addiction) of crossdressing.

His story piqued my interest because it is very different from the vast majority of what I hear out there – what most of us hear. 

Truth be told, there is a lot of supportiveness out there – perhaps too much. 

Don’t get me wrong; it is wonderful that we all encourage one another.  But, it is good to remember that crossdressing may not be constructive for everyone who undertakes it.

I have struggled in the past with my own doubts about my feminine side, and I think we all do. 

I believe that giving a fair airing to the arguments against going forward for any individual are as important as the reflexive support and encouragement that is everywhere.

We can go on all day about how crossdressing is harmless and should therefore be accepted, but it is undeniable that crossdressing is often a destructive force in a person’s life.  It can and often does lead to divorce, alienation, job loss, dishonesty and shame. 

At the same time, the biological or psychological necessity of transvestism is far from beyond doubt in all who practice it.

So, yes, there’s nothing wrong with crossdressing in and of itself.  But, people who do it should take a long hard look at themselves, and actually invite others to challenge the validity of such a choice, before going forward.

Sometimes, unconditional acceptance doesn’t do the recipient any favors.  True friendship requires more of us.

Day in Court

I had a date with the judge today on the small matter of a particularly vexing parking ticket.

I don’t normally fight these things – SUCH a waste of time! – but the sneaky guy actually gave me the ticket while I was in the car.

So, I got dressed in a sports jacket, black trousers and white shirt, tied my hair back in a neat pony tail and went to court. 

I presented myself to the prosecutor, who took a quick look at me, and said, “And, what’s the name, ma’am?”

I showed her the ticket with my male name on it.

Unfazed, she inquired, “Are you his representative?”

Wow, she was really quite sure of and comfortable with her perception of me as female.  “Nope, that’s me.”

Of course, she apologized, and of course, it didn’t bother me a lick.

But, it does get me to wondering what has happened to my masculine presence.

I mean, all the visual cues were there for her to perceive me as a man.  Jacket, shirt, male documentation.  In fact, it is doubtful she could even have seen my pony tail from her perspective.  I wasn’t wearing jewellery, or perfume, or any color but black and white.  And every single other person in the room was a man. And yet, her natural instinct was to perceive me as a woman.

Maybe I was nervous being in court so I wasn’t assertive.  I don’t know.  But, I still have to wonder why friends, family and business associates would not perceive me in the same way she did. 

They have all seen me with my hair down.  Some have even seen me in shorts and I have no hair on my legs.

Perhaps I am fooling no one…

Is Gender a Part of Crossdressing?

(…continued from GenderBlender Offender, Contender, Pretender)

I was considering the experience and approach of a guy who dresses as female without changing anything else about himself as compared to my approach of changing just about everything…

Maybe he’s the one who’s got it right. I mean, after a while, being two people is exhausting… and it gets confusing… and you’re never really two people anyway, right?

Sadly, the common online representation of my friend’s approach is the “hairy man in panties.” It is the bane of my online existence and I can’t seem to avoid it, much as I try. Most of the guys posting these photos are projecting a very crude sexual attitude at the same time. There’s no softness, no respect for the feminine – just vulgar displays of sexual bits, and, not surprisingly, usually no faces.

I am driven to wonder whether these guys are representative of most men who crossdress without changing themselves in any other way, or whether they are just the black sheep of the group.

Also, I’d suggest that the HMiP are not even mixing genders; rather they are simply men using feminine objects to get themselves off; gender never really comes into play.

Which begs the question, “When does presenting as the opposite sex involve questions of gender and when might it not? Does it for you, dear reader? And, where is the line, do you think?”

Perhaps if I saw a different class of photos from men like my friend, who just like to dress up, or mess with gender, I would have a more positive impression. Perhaps if I met more decent men who projected a gender-mixed image that I could comprehend.  I am certainly open to trying to understand and appreciate the concept, even if I am not sure I will be able to.


I know a guy who dresses, in public, as a female but has a full beard – great guy, but I just don’t know how to perceive him; my brain is not that advanced, so I concentrate on his mind, which is agile and interesting. I am waiting for a light to go on.  I don’t judge him, but neither do I understand him.

He is certainly playing with the rules of gender in his own way.   How appealing one finds it is a matter of personal taste, I suppose.

Personally, I remain loyal to fairly traditional expressions of gender and gender roles, at least for myself and those to whom I may be attracted.  I recognize that there is a certain self-serving convenience to the idea that my rigid views on gender have found just enough flexibility to accommodate the way I am, and even allow me to find joy and excitement in that.  Is that rationalization or simply my coherent truth? 

Dunno.  But it makes me happy…

GenderBlender Offender, Contender, Pretender

As most of us know and accept, there is an infinite variety of gender-mixing experiences and attitudes out there.  I like to try to compare the approaches of individuals I encounter with my own to see if there is something I can learn.

As those who follow me know, when I dress as a woman, my intention is to be a woman. As much as I may forgive and even come to accept the masculine part of me showing through, it happens despite my best efforts to the contrary. I cannot conceive of looking like a woman without mentally and emotionally taking on the persona of a woman. For me, they are intertwined – one and the same.IMG_4694a1  Fortunately, that usually feels pretty natural to me.

I recently met up with a guy in a dress who thinks of himself as a man. His dress is mostly outward. Sure, he tries to look like a woman, and walk in heels as best he can, but he feels like a man, thinks he should use the guy’s washroom, and talks in his male voice. And, he uses his male name. He is the person he has always been, but now experimenting with wearing a woman’s clothes and the different kind of attention that might bring.

I wanted to explore the differences between him and me just a bit.  I think it is interesting to conceive of what he, with his starkly different approach, is getting out of his experience.

He is messing around with gender, mixing them on purpose, refusing to color inside the lines, refusing to be bound by what is expected in terms of gender.

I’d be fooling myself to think that I wasn’t mixing genders too, albeit in a markedly different way. In fact, I have often admitted to revelling in my difference from genetic women; I find that it makes me a special creature – a connoisseur’s delight (as I have said before), if you will allow me the conceit.

(Of course, that attitude can be seen as self-preserving in the sense that I could never compete with real women on their turf, but it is also a reflection of the fact that I never have aspired to become entirely female and am therefore, at least to some extent, an self-confessed gender-blender.)

Unlike my friend though, I am mostly constrained by traditional gender lines, but for the odd hint of the biological difference; I must be spiritually female, and my appearance must be (almost) convincingly female, otherwise the whole thing doesn’t work for me.

…more on this tomorrow…

Men Being Men

A couple of days ago, I asked a question about the way crossdressers portray themselves photographically.  Today, I will offer an opinion, which you may infer from the title.

I have made mention in the past of men’s inclination to represent themselves by their sexual organs, often to the exclusion of their faces.  Oh, they take pictures of it from every conceivable angle and then share it with the world as if it were the most amazing thing.

If you’ve got something, show it off: my car is faster than yours; my drill is more powerful; my cellphone is newer, etc.

Crossdressing doesn’t seem to change this:  my heels are higher than yours, look what I can fit in my… (I just can’t say it), and so on…

Men get right down to the nuts and bolts.  As in, “I am crossdressing so, here’s my dress… here’s my ass…  got it?”  IMG_5136a1

The thing of it is that imposing male behavior into the expression of femininity is highly discordant.  To me, it is not unlike imposing one’s fingernails onto the blackboard.

Being a man is great; I know this from personal experience.  And, God love ‘em, boys will be boys!  Men have a wonderful way of relating to each other, and bring their specifically masculine attitudes to the table when relating to women; I wouldn’t have it any other way – not as a woman, nor as a man.

But, in my view, portraying femininity requires a change of behavior.  Crossdressers who continue to act as men while dressed as women obviously do not feel that way.

And so, quite opposite to my worry, expressed in day before yesterday’s post, the prevalence of this sort of behavior shouldn’t cause to me worry that I might be like them.  Rather, given how much it bothers me, it should prove to me that I am quite different. 

Not better, just different.

Ahhh… I feel much better now.

Me and the Jacaranda Tree

While you all ruminate of yesterday’s question, I will try to entertain you with a little photo of my own (click the photo to enlarge it):


People Pleasing


I wrote in my recent post, Masculine Photos, about my observations on the popularity of certain of my photos that I felt betrayed my masculinity – much to my chagrin, mind you.

Well, that post was the most popular one I have ever done!

So, history repeats… and confirms my impressions…

Apparently, photos of myself all prettied-up, wearing nothing but lingerie, a tux jacket and heels doesn’t hold a candle to a strong jaw and maybe a slight crease where it doesn’t belong.

Go figure…

And, so I sit here trying to figure out what to do about it in terms of offering material that satisfies the most people.

I don’t really like seeing my guy self in Janie, but I am at peace with it.  Obviously, there’s lots of folks who prefer it.

So help me out, then.  If you tell me what you want, you’re much more likely to get it.

Punctured Charm

[continued from My Tall Drink of Water…]

I have found that online interactions are very helpful in breaking the ice for an ultimate in-person meeting.  It mitigates the awkwardness of approaching someone or being approached by a stranger, and gives you some context in terms of conversation.

I had just met this guy in a bar – but then again, we already kinda knew each other a bit from our online interaction.

As I sat there in the bar talking with him, I was enjoying myself even though I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

I continue to be fascinated by the things that strike me so differently as a woman as opposed to my other self.  For example, I could literally feel my attraction to him grow stronger when I realized from a story he was telling that he was a smart and sensible man – or at least capable of being one at times.IMG_1706a

I guess it made me feel like I was with a sane person with good common sense, and that made me feel safer.

But, his charm was regularly punctuated (perhaps the better word is punctured) by incorrigibly naughty words, crude actions or insensitive behavior – perhaps his way of making sure that I wouldn’t be inclined toward any sort of emotional relationship. 

Truth is, I had no delusions of any possibility of a relationship with him, other than perhaps a sexual one.

And, I was fine with that… so I ignored what I took to be his attempts to emphasize that fact.

But I nevertheless told him that I found his intelligence and personality more attractive and interesting than the size of his equipment. He wasn’t all that happy to hear that – “Whatever.” – but he should have been, because there is no way I would ever consider sleeping with someone where the reverse was true.

And, despite what he may have been telling himself, we did have a personal connection – highly sexualized, perhaps, but personal nonetheless.

The distinction between wanting a relationship and needing a personal connection as a context for sex may be lost on many men, but this girl was quickly coming to understand it, and herself.

All good so far.

(More next week…)

Winter, Yay!

I decided on a Back-to-School look for our first Back-to-Winter day.




Oldie But Goodie

Just a bit of an older photo of me to compare to recent ones.  Goodness, my hair is so short and dark.


First Week Finale

One more New Year’s pic to end the week (click to enlarge):



I am grateful for the comments on my recent post The Irresistible Lure of the Lens, and I think that your explanations for our obsession with taking pictures of ourselves were intelligent and thought-provoking.

Here’s my two-cents’…

I have found that t-girls obsession with the lens is matched by our inability to walk past a mirror without looking at ourselves._w1a2885a

Both are momentary reflections of us that teach us what we may be doing wrong and impress us with what we are doing right.  And we are ever eager to learn about both.

For my money, the mirror is the better learning tool, as it is interactive.  Sometimes, it’s “Goll darn, I am doing pretty good!” but more often than not, there is some flaw that bears improving, and I can look away, take a deep breath and try to change my posture, my expression or whatever, to improve my result.

On the other hand, photos are better for showing (and showing off).  The t-community is very supportive and will boost a girl’s ego when she needs it, which is awfully nice.  There is also the opportunity among friends, to give and receive advice – and an outside opinion is immensely helpful.

For me, the whole preoccupation with seeing my reflection comes down to an endless fascination with what makes us look male or female, how trivial differences can change gender perception, and how to control these. 

Watchin’ Em Work It

Well, after the brouhaha that preceded ABC’s Work It, we finally got to see what all the fuss was about.

Of course the CD community is not going to appreciate some of the innuendo and outright specific comments indicating that crossdressing is nothing but a last resort for desperate people and not something any normal person would ever actually want to do.

I suspect the trans community will object to the trifling with their issues and with the whole concept of changing genders.

But, my opinion is that neither CDs nor TSs are really the true victims here. 

In my view the real victims are men. 

This show is nothing if not another “man=stupid” diatribe.  It is a continuation of repeated portrayals in media and advertising of men as unsuccessful, incompetent, ignorant, insensitive idiots in every facet of their lives – utterly useless human beings. 

The male characters in this show are morons and all male behavior in the show is portrayed as asinine.   The “smarter” of the two hasn’t a clue how to relate to his own wife until he “becomes” one of the gals.

“Oh, I didn’t realize that taking you out for a “romantic” dinner to the bar where my two idiot male friends will be waiting for us wouldn’t be a good idea!  Why are you mad at me?”

Men are being treated like drooling idiots, and this show is the latest and greatest insult yet.

Thank goodness the show is absolutely awful.  Begone!


It’s still the first week of January, so I feel alright about publishing another of my photos of my New Year’s celebration.  I hope you like this one as much as I do.  (Click to enlarge.)


Now That’s Funny

America is a funny place.

The Playboy Club – a sumptuously shot, multi-layered program lasted barely 2 episodes before it was pulled, due in no small part to complaints from the religious right.

The Parents Television Council said: “Bringing The Playboy Club to broadcast television was a poor programming decision from the start. We’re pleased that NBC will no longer be airing a program so inherently linked to a pornographic brand that denigrates and sexualizes women … we hope other broadcasters heed the important lessons of this programming debacle.”

Now, along comes ABC with “Work It,” an idiotic “comedy” (premiering tomorrow) which needs no explanation beyond the poster at right.  Yes, yes, women have it so much easier in the workplace than men, so of course it would be necessary to pretend to be one to secure a job.

But you know who has it easiest?  Transgender women.  Oh yes.  Especially non-passable ones.  Jobs practically fall into their laps, and co-workers enthusiastically welcome them.

I have generally taken a positive view of being part of television shows, even when we are not shown in the most positive light (see Two and a Half Men (and a Tranny or Two) and Can We Laugh at Ourselves?). I figure we are becoming part of the fabric of society and will eventually become more understood and accepted.

But this resurrection of Bosom Buddies looks so stupid and ridiculous that it offends even me. 

In some sense, I think it is because we are not in the 80s any more; we have already moved past the sensibility that accepted Bosom Buddies.  In another sense, it may just be because I think it is really bad – as in not funny.

BTW where is the Parents Television Council now?  Or do they only object to programming that denigrates genetic women? Funny that.

Much has been made on other blogs and t-sites of the offensiveness of this show; my take on the trailer is that its biggest offence may be that it is just bad tv.  But, I, for one, have yet to see a whole show. 

If it is as bad as it looks, well, one presumes it’ll be gone before we have too much time to complain.  If it is (much) better, maybe we can find a silver lining.

Stay tuned.

Is It Just Me?

Ever look in the mirror and just ask yourself, “What the hell am I doing dressing and acting like a woman?” 

Cuz, I still sometimes do…

Cleaning Up My Act

You may have noticed a few little changes in the appearance of this blog… or not.  In any event, they are just the start of many to come.

The most significant change has been to close my Naughty Blog. 

At this moment in time, I am not sure if I want to continue to make the erotic musings of my mind available.  I certainly haven’t had the inclination to write new material for some time, and haven’t posted in ages. Though I will confess that ironically, I happened to come up, quite without trying, with a good story just last night.IMG_1139a

No matter.  It isn’t enough to change my mind.  I may write the story, but publishing it is another matter.

I will always be a highly sexualized woman, but I am having some doubts as to whether overly sexual content is cheapening my image.  What is over the line is a matter of personal opinion, but I think that much of that content was.

I reserve the right to change my opinion again, but for now, that’s where I’m at. 

I apologize to those of you who enjoyed my little stories; I was quite proud of the quality of the writing, to be honest.  Oh well.  I hope you’ll stick around for the content here, or at least leave a comment telling me what a mistake it was to take down the naughtycdjanie blog.

In the coming days, I will re-post some of the tamer content from that blog over here – but not the erotica.

Under the law of unintentional consequences, I suspect that the temperature of this blog is going to rise just a few degrees as a result of not having another outlet for the posting of sexier content.  But, there will be nothing X-rated.

Missed It By That Much!

The title of this post comes from one of many punchlines in the brilliant 1960s TV series “Get Smart.” Come to think of it, the title of that series is probably some pretty good advice I should be sternly imparting to myself after today’s events.

Sometimes I think I must lead a charmed life…Picture 149a

Today, I was walking down the street when I heard someone calling my name from behind me.  I had just exited a shoe store, in which I had been examining a pair of shiny silver pumps, so hearing my male name startled me a bit.  I turned around to find the wife of a close friend of mine smiling at me.

Fortunately, I was in guy mode.

We had a nice conversation, yada, yada, yada…

Thing is, I am often on that very block at that very time as Janie, and but for a couple of totally random influences on my day today, that would have been the case this afternoon as well.

“So, what are you doing in this area?” she asked.

“I’m just going to have a coffee and do some work over there,” I replied, pointing at one of my favored mid-afternoon Janie-haunts.

“Oh, yes, they share space with this lovely salad place; I go there for lunch all the time!”


Another Wonderful Day Brought to You by Kotex

I am just experimenting here, but I may have hit upon something simple that works relatively well… in the tucking department, that is.IMG_5119a

(For the uninitiated, “tucking” is the process by which we t-girls create the illusion of a flat front below the waist.  I have written a previous post, here.)

Far from duct-taping your privates – a thought at which I recoiled when I heard it was the common practice (still can’t fathom it), this seems relatively civilized by comparison.

Originally, I had considered simply using duct tape but putting a Kotex Light Days pad between the tape and my delicates – and I may yet try that.

But what I did today was merely use the adhesive on the pad; that is, turn the pad upside down, so the adhesive side is up, and tape yourself in.

For the hour or two that I had it on, it seems to hold. And more importantly, it came off without any screaming.  Also, I think the stiffness of the pad makes for a flatter front.

Anyway, I’ve included a few pics to show the results.  (BTW these leggings are really lightweight and hug the skin – you could see a pimple through them.)  As always, click to enlarge.IMG_5113aIMG_5111aIMG_5114a

Kid in a Candy Store

Black Friday found me on the premises of Charlotte Russe, an American clothier with no peer in Canada.  Their fashions are appealing, and their prices are hard to believe.

I was all over that!IMG_8743a1

I picked up a number of tops at under $4 each, and a collection of sexy mini-skirts at around $6 apiece.  Shoes under $30…  Dresses in the $20 range…

I must confess to having become helplessly overwhelmed by the number of choices I had and the bargains to be found…

I felt like a cat surrounded by lethargic, careless mice and low, slow-flying birds – too many to catch and which one first?

I had to get out of there and gain some perspective…

But, really, such deals are hard to pass up, and all the more when I get to this store but once a year…

Pretty please, Santa, can’t I have everything?

Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

Travelling sometimes means that it is harder to be in the right clothes at the right time, and the other day was one such time.IMG_8556a

Being at the door of a store full of yummy girly clothes, I just had to go in, even though I was totally in guy mode.

No matter… it seems my shame – at least in this respect – has vanished.  I was picking up items here and there and posing with them in front of public mirrors, and then went so far as to get myself a dressing room and try some stuff on.

Tried on shoes too.

The sales staff never batted an eye…

The Ups and Downs of Switching Genders

I gave the issues I last wrote about some more thought, and have a few ideas to share.

For me, being female is a joyous and intense state.  I am sociable, flirty and “on.” Being a guy is more of a contented and relaxed, comfortable thing.  Appropriate adjectives include strong, aware, capable.

Being Janie is still quite stressful for me – not so much about being discovered, or worrying about danger any more, but more about doing things that are outside my comfort zone.IMG_4100a

I still have so much to remember to do (and not do) when being a woman, from voice to manner to posture – things that are not yet completely innate to me. 

And then, socializing is not something that comes easily to me.  Though I have revelled in the friendships and interactions that I have achieved as Janie, meeting people has never been without stress for me.

I am so much more a social creature in my feminine guise, and getting out and partying and enjoying the company of others tends to acquire a certain momentum if I keep at it consistently. 

However, once I stop and go back to my comfort zone, inertia takes over.

…and that can be hard to overcome…

But, when I have had the benefit of perspective instead of being caught up in the moment of how I feel, my sense is that I have grown increasingly dissatisfied with the confines of my comfort zone as I have gotten older – and Janie’s emergence was part of that.  There is always the potential for backsliding, or conversely, for my male self to displace the female by finding his own excitement, but my best guess at this moment is that I will walk my road to happiness and fulfillment in sexy heels and hose.

Of course, forecast is subject to change…

Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

Annie Lennox, the gender-bending artist who came to fame as the voice (and soul) of the Eurythmics in the eighties, has recently become the sole focus of an art exhibit at the Victoria & Albert Museum in London called “The House of Annie Lennox” – a take-off on her website name – The House of Me.  lennox

She is even going to personally, physically be part of the exhibit.  In what she calls “a mix between art, video and showcase,” she will do some of her work at a desk within the display, on view to spectators but not able to see them.

If you don’t know Annie Lennox, treat yourself to a quick search online for her biography.  Or, just click this link:

In one of the unusual anecdotes I read, she had to furnish proof that she was actually female before MTV would allow her Sweet Dreams video to air.

Sweet Dreams

Here’s what she says today, remarking on the presence of transgender models like Lea T and Nomi Ruiz on fashion runways: “Its a healthy thing that someone who is transsexual is being employed as model now. I feel someone who is transgender or a transsexual has always been on the fringes of society for many years. This is a way to break the mould of what gender means.”

Couple that with her new exhibit, which reminds us of her ground-breaking work and gender-bending success and high-achievement, and we can see some light out there.

Newspaper Apology

My post yesterday dealt with an ad (from the so-called Institute for Canadian Values – don’t you just love the way certain people decide that their values are the ones for all of us?) beseeching government to stop confusing young children with questions about their gender and sexual orientation – especially regarding transgender issues.

Interestingly, just today, the newspaper in which the ad ran issued an apology for publishing it.

The paper is of a right-of-center political bent, so the apology may raise eyebrows further.

Apparently, the editors felt that, while free speech is a praiseworthy goal and no opinion should be stifled just because it may cause offense, that the particular text of this ad (reproduced entirely in yesterday’s post) was too inflammatory in its use of phrases like “corrupting children” and was offensive to members of GLBT persuasion.

To quote the newspaper:

Where the ad exceeded the bounds of civil discourse was in its tone and manipulative use of a picture of a young girl; in the suggestion that such teaching “corrupts” children, with everything that such a charge implies; and in its singling out of groups of people with whose sexuality the group disagrees.

They pledged to donate the entire proceeds from the ad to “an organization that promotes the rights of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people.”

Pretty Man

Following on from the last two posts, I figure that as an exercise in personal evolution and introspection, I could try to give being a “pretty man” a try and see how it feels.

In some sense, it occupies a middle ground between regular guy and tgirl, so maybe I can find a way to get my mind around the concept.

As a start, I went out this past weekend to a party with friends, and then out for a late bite dressed as you see in the photos included.  (I did not dare put on makeup.) 

Femininity is, of course, as much manner as it is attire, and I wasn’t sure exactly how to act.  To be honest, once among friends, I didn’t think much about the way I was behaving, gender-wise. But GF did whisper in my ear at one point, questioning whether I was really pushing things, so I guess I must have been acting girly now and then.

In any event, I got a couple of looks here and there, but not much of any consequence happened. 

Of course, what went on in any of my friends’ minds will remain a mystery to me unless and until someone wants to share it with me…

(As always, click on a photo to enlarge it.)


Yowza Yoai cont’d

(…continued from Yowza Yaoi)

It seems to me that a smooth, pretty man with long hair, makeup and a certain fashion sense is far more acceptable to general society than a tgirl.  And, it is so much simpler a life than being a CD, in the sense that there is but one name instead of two, one persona, one wardrobe.

For me, this is a fairly important issue, because I believe I could do “pretty man” if I were so inclined.IMG_4436a

However, inasmuch as I have very hetero views on what it means to be a man or a woman, I would either have to mentally switch back and forth between being one or the other depending on what I was doing, or try to change my lifelong perspective on these issues.IMG_4441a

Changing my name and my clothes currently provides a fairly obvious demarcation line as to which role I am playing when.  Significantly, it provides that feedback not only to me, but to everyone else as well.

I tend to be dominant as a male and submissive as a female.  Without visual cues, people would think me schizophrenic if I were to change back and forth all the time.  IMG_4446a

Dating would devolve to gay men, rather than tranny chasers and experimenting “straight” guys. That may turn out to be an improvement to the extent that gay guys at least know who or what they are and might therefore be more reliable or stable.  But, not having much exposure to gay men, I am not sure whether their courting behavior would be what my feminine side expects.  Whichever way I am dressed, sex with a man for me must be the experience of a hetero female.  That much is beyond question.

And so, it would seem that absent a sea-change in a fundamental perspective (something I am still examining as honestly as I can), assimilating my feminine sexuality into my male self is an exercise in deception of self and others.  The two are not compatible and not capable of being melded into a coherent whole.  Though they might appear so, it would be all packaging.

One happy inference from all this is clarity on the point that my feminine desires are not at all about turning myself on by seeing myself in a sexy outfit, and entirely about the feminine experience lived socially.

Not that the pleasures of shopping and makeup and being a sexy gal aren’t a fringe benefit I’d have missed as a yaoi lover! Winking smile

Yowza Yaoi

I was introduced to the term “Yaoi” by a friend I met at Southern Comfort in Atlanta.  I may have spoken of her before.  She was one of the most beautiful t-girls I have ever met, feminine both in appearance as well as manner.

Not long after our encounter, she gave it all up – being a girl I mean – in favor of being a yaoi-type – a beautiful feminine man who liked sleeping with men – saying that there was no need to become female to do and be all the things he wanted to do/be; he could do them just fine as a man.

In past posts, (e.g. No, no, no! and Jeans and Chromosomes) I have expressed a distaste for mixing genders, for effeminate men.  But, I have always provided that there was a rare exception – the beautiful man.  This seeming contradiction has troubled me, so I set about thinking on it.

What I discovered is that the beautiful man registers in my mind as female, while the effeminate man clocks in as an unappealing version of a male.

So we are clear, here are some examples:

 Gil Ofarim german teenie starBill Kaulitz of German pop band Tokio Hotel

Above left is Gil Ofarim and right, Bill Kaulitz of Tokio Hotel.  These are beautiful men.  By contrast, an effeminate man effects feminine mannerisms (sometimes in an exaggerated way) while being unmistakably male. Though a bit of a caricature, the character of Jack MacFarland (played by Sean Hayes) on the old sitcom Will and Grace comes to mind.

Being as “beautiful men” register as female with me, I began to wonder exactly what was the difference between them and tgirls such as myself? 

(continued next time…)

Why Now?

Some of you may be wondering, as one reader asked me the other day, why “all this self-doubt has surfaced.”

First, I thank all of you for your concern and encouragement.  But, don’t worry, I’m not despairing.

The truth is, I have kinda forced the issue…

I have been Janie for some time now, and for the most part, I have just let things unfold as nature would have them unfold, and took it as it came.  IMG_2234a Life is Good

I have followed a well-worn path of first dressing alone at home, then, feeling the need to get out of the house, I started going to clubs and finding out-of-the-way shops and cafes.  I started posting photos and thoughts on the internet, feeling that the vastness of the world-wide-web offered sufficient protection to my identity – that those I knew would be unlikely to run across my images – and that has held true, so far.

But, as Janie develops, I have found that it is never enough. 

I have hit a wall as a girl.  I need a real life… to be able to go to work, or to volunteer, or to take classes, or shop for groceries or whatever if Janie is going to continue to develop as a real person, and if she is going to have the slightest chance to find a decent lover or three.  IMG_2267a Me Jane You Tarzan

More to the point, if being Janie is going to be a constructive influence in my life, she has to have a real and vibrant social circle, and make a genuine contribution in society.

Otherwise, at best she is just entertainment – a way to happily pass the time, like watching TV. At worst, she could be a distraction that is highly destructive to my former life.

But these things are not possible without living in a way that is sure to conflict with the existence I have had until now.  Simple things like inviting people to my home, or going to a professional meeting or even a social event, or starting a business, is going to let everyone know who and what I really am.

And so, before I pass the point of no return, I need to know what I am doing and why.  I need to have real confidence that this is right for me, because unlike the past, which until now has been fun and games, this kind of life will be forever.

Subtle Difference

After more than two weeks of uninterrupted manhood (slightly impurified by the Janie duties to which am committed and to which I had to attend) I tentatively put my toe in the waters of femininity today.

I am just wearing short workout shorts and a cropped t-shirt and running shoes, but, for the first time in a while, I am allowing my Picture 94afeminine persona to emerge a little, just to feel what it is like. I am still not certain whether the experiment of being a guy is over, but I wanted to see the difference, if only for a day.

It is a subtle thing, but there is a certain lightness to my spirit today, and a certain tinge of excitement that hasn’t been there. In some sense, it takes more energy to be Janie, but Janie supplies that energy right back in turn.


Cause or Effect?

Am I trans?

Seems like a ridiculous question.  And yet, here I am asking it anyway.

This is not a semantic or political issue for me, and it’s not a debate about the meaning of the word or the condition.

The question is meant simply to ask whether the girl part of me is really part of my true nature or not.IMG_0797a Land's End

I have been an observer of this scene long enough to have come to the conclusion that there are a host of reasons why guys dress up as girls, and many of them have little to do with a female spirit living inside them – at least in my view.

I see guys who fetishize females for sexual gratification, others whose crossdressing seems to spring out of a resentment for women, still others whose feminine persona appears to be an attempt at self-degradation or a result of self-loathing, etc. 

This is not about putting anyone down or even analysing them.  Rather, I bring up these examples only to illustrate that there do exist reasons for a man to dress up as a woman that not only don’t make that man trans, but are also responses to aspects of their lives unrelated to gender.

I have my own issues – relationship issues, power issues, self-confidence issues and others – that seem unrelated to my gender identity.  Perhaps, as with those described above, my feminine side is a response to these, and not a gender thing?

It is a question I need to ask.

And, let me add that, to the extent Janie might be a response to other issues, it could be seen as running away from rather than meeting those problems head on, it could be seen as a distraction, or as a way of procrastinating. 

Even in that sense, Janie’s existence certainly helps handle those problems, but is hardly a solution – and hardly productive. 

That is, unless those issues turn out to be manifestations or symptoms of a deeper gender identity issue after all.

Of course, relationship issues might be related to a suppressed gender of one partner.  Power is related to masculinity and as such touches on gender identity.  And, self confidence is tied up in one’s idea of self.

Then, it is possible that Janie’s emergence may not just help handle my issues by distraction or avoidance, but may very well be a real solution… or possibly the solution.

Succinctly stated, it all comes to this: “Did my issues create Janie, or did Janie’s existence within me create those issues?”

I’ll admit that, given the ease with which this femininity has come to me, and my enthusiasm in going with it, that I am leaning toward the latter.  I have grave doubts that a regular guy would be able or willing to go to such lengths as I have if the girl within weren’t a real part of his nature.

What gives me the most pause, however, is that I still believe I am capable of stopping.  Not suppressing, but stopping. 

I agree with the commentators on a recent post, that being trans is not a choice.  You cannot choose what you are.  Neither can you stop being what you are.

And so, as long as I remain unsure as to whether Janie is something I am or something I do, I haven’t accepted that I am trans.

One way through is to try on the boy again for size.  And, that’s what I am doing. (I hope this better explains my thoughts in Whyfore Art Thou Romeo and Not Juliet?)  We’ll see where that leads. 

I hope I’ll have my answer.  Soon.

A Fair Bonnie Lass

Tonight, I renewed an old acquaintance…

…a bonnie lass from Scotland, aye!!

She was with me that fateful night 3 or so years ago when I shaved my legs for the very first time. 

To be completely accurate, it wasn’t I who shaved my legs, but rather my girlfriend, who too was kissed by ye bonnie lass and under her disarming spell no doubt! 

T’was heady mixture of love and laughter, hormones and spirits it was, what led to that razor running along my legs just then, and carrying off with it the hairs that were such a stark reminder of my masculinity, not to mention a terrible inconvenience as regarded my fashion choices.

Yes indeed-ee, the suspect in pretty much every bout of drinking I did back then was a wonderfully easy-drinking whiskey called Te Bheag, which is not pronounced as it looks (“tea bag?”) but Chay-Vek (gaelic) – a lovely, tall scottish redhead if ever there was one.IMG_0223a

Unlike most any scotch I have tried, I seem never to wake with a hangover from this one despite my having abused it more flagrantly than any other.

And, so it was that when we awoke the next morning following that night to find my legs quite odd-looking – like they belonged to someone else’s body – that it was, nevertheless, all ok.  There was no hangover of spirit or in spirit.

My girly adventure had begun in earnest. 

P.S.  FYI for those who may be concerned, I rarely drink much these days.

Just Be

I have run a few posts questioning my sanity and wondering whether I should be doing this tgirl thing.

In response, a friend (possibly tiring of my incessant whining Winking smile) wrote in and advised me to stop overthinking my existence and just enjoy being who I am – “one pretty, feminine girl,” in her words.

My first thought in answer to her comment was, “I wish I were as sure as you are.”

But, a more interesting thought followed on its heels, as I wrote my response to her comment.IMG_2258aOn Life's Road

I said then, “Believe me, if the world around me laid down a path to happiness lined with pink flowers and lace, I’d not think twice about it.”

As the words escaped my keyboard, their truth rang out. 

It seems that what is not among the many uncertainties with which I am grappling, is any doubt that I would be perfectly happy to live as a girl.

Wow!  That realization was a surprise… and an important one. 

I am now starting to see more clearly the problems that have given me pause.  Mainly, that they are externally generated.  The decision about whether being a tgirl is something I should pursue is not so much based on my own desires as the consequences that such a decision brings.

If society were ok – really ok – with it, I would be happy to live as a girl – and even happier to live as someone who could change back and forth from girl to boy (which is kinda where I’m at right now).

The love of being a gender traveler is compromised, however, by the very real consequences that attach to such behavior; friends would be lost – or at least friendships strained; employment or business success become a daunting challenge; family relations with me and with their own friends would be tested; and so on.

I am luckier than most in that my girlfriend is already on board, and that I feel like I have a choice.  But the question remains, “Is it worth it?” 

That sounds like a much more manageable question. Open-mouthed smile

Now Why Did I Start This?

Many of us t-girls struggle with doubts about whether what we are doing is natural or delusional, self-fulfilling or self-destructive… or is it just me?IMG_9458a

The problem is one of perspective. 

It is the rare gurl who is self-aware enough to have properly documented her perceptions throughout the process. 

When we first start out, there is an impetus for initiating these changes.  There is surely much uncertainty and unknown in terms of what may lie ahead, and even whether this is the right road to take, but our motivations are at their clearest right then.

I have no recollection of how I felt back then, to be honest.  But oh, how I wish I did.

I’d like to know if the girl I’ve become has anything to do with the needs I felt back then.  I’d like to know what the guy I was then thinks of the girl I am now.

The person I am now is feminine, is smooth and hairless, has long curly hair and long-ish nails colored with nail polish.  I am not equipped to judge what I have become.

Or am I?

The Joy of Being Tucked In

The male form can be comfortably disguised within certain female garments with little effort.  Nice flared and demure skirts not only give us hips but cover over any extra bits.

Graduating to pencil skirts, tight-fitting jeans and leggings, however, presents some problems.  Bathing suits… well, ‘nuff said.

Nothing ruins the line of a beautifully restrictive pencil skirt more than a little crease in the wrong spot.  And, I found that once my sensibilities to this issue were heightened, even the looser skirts were liable to give me away in certain circumstances.

One answer was to buy a slightly larger size, to provide more room – a solution I adopted for my jean skirt.  I kinda felt it was a little too short in the size appropriate to my waist, anyway.

But, of course, less bulge is preferable to more room.  IMGP0528a

After all, a pencil skirt that doesn’t force a girl to walk in small steps simply doesn’t have the right look.

Surgery is an excellent, if drastic solution.  Tucking works almost as well, with significantly fewer side-effects. Winking smile

For those unaware, tucking involves pushing the testicles back inside the abdominal wall, into the canal from whence they originally descended.  There is ample room for them to fit comfortably.  Then, the rest of the equipment is pulled between the legs and secured by sturdy underwear; I do not recommend duct tape for this particular fix-it project Open-mouthed smile

I know it is what a lot of girls use, but that’s a mighty powerful adhesive there.  There has to be a better way.

Amazingly, you’re now perfectly flat in front, and can wear any female garment with confidence.

But, here’s the really neat thing that caught me by surprise…

As there is now, to be crass, nothing hanging between my legs, I get a wonderful bonus degree of feminine feeling.  Crossing my legs feels different.  And, of course, looking at how a really tight-fitting pair of jeans looks is more gratifying.

There is, I am sure, also a certain degree of sublime emasculation going on too, feeling your equipment – some might say, your brains, or your masculine “guiding light” – imprisoned, trapped between your legs.

Maybe that’s just me…

Rejection is Good for the Ego

Ahhh, the Dating Game…

Bachelor Number One

Out last night at a bar, I found myself dancing alone on the dancefloor when a guy came up and asked if he could dance with me.  Not really interested but happy to have some attention, I agreed.IMG_9918a1

We danced for a song or two, and then he started dancing ever closer to me.  At first I tried to restore the distance between us, but eventually gave up on repeatedly backing away.  He was obviously into me.

However, certain business had to be taken care of.  I don’t do surprises, and I’m pretty sure that dancing body-to-body would have given him information he might not have been happy to receive in that way, if you know what I mean…

So, I just whispered 5 words in his ear, “I’m not physically a girl.”  There is probably a more enlightened PC way of phrasing it, but I find that short, unequivocal and to the point is best in these matters.

Fully-informed, he was sweet enough to continue to dance with me but at a slowly but ever-increasing distance.  Soon, he faded away… and I was back to dancing alone…

Bachelor Number Two

Later, I walked by a couple standing and talking with another couple. 

As I passed by, one of the handsome gentlemen stepped back from the conversation and brushed my elbow.

“Are you here alone?” he asked in a soft voice, with a smile.IMG_9921a1

“’fraid so.” I replied.

“I’m here with my girlfriend. Why don’t you come join us?” he said with a mischievous grin.

I wasn’t sure what he wanted.

He leaned in closer and held my hand.  “We’ve never been with another woman,” he offered.

Ho-hum, here we go again…

“Darling, I’m afraid I have to tell you that I’m not physically a woman.”

He gently let go of my hand and dealt with it as elegantly as he could muster, but he was caught completely off-guard and couldn’t help babbling at least a little bit.  I made it easy for him by walking off in the opposite direction.

“Wow!” I thought.  “Those were mighty attractive people, and the light wasn’t bad at all…  Kewl!”

Of course it could have been better…

Oh Dreary Day

Taking a break from boring you with my Las Vegas trip, I am back to the drudgery of daily life…

Today is as grey and dull as can be, spitting rain and very cool – quite a come-down from the sunny, warm southwest U.S.Picture 132a

Also had to deal with the tedium of getting out of the house as a girl again.  There is a subtle emotional price you pay for having to subjugate your authenticity to reality.

Ho, hum…

Anyways, just had a quick look around and made a dash for the car. 

Good thing I’m quick too.  My cute little bottom had barely touched down on the seat of my car when my neighbor came out of her door.  GF would have been apoplectic!

Sure it was risky… though I do believe that people are generally too busy leading their own lives to notice too much else, except by chance.

But, I had little choice if I was to make my meeting.

And, I do confess, this hiding is getting a bit tired. 

Oh well, we all do what we must.

Live and Let Live

Live and Let Live – what a simple concept. 

What provokes someone to lash out in violent hatred at another person just because they are different?

An incident in a Maryland McDonald’s reminds us of the simmering nastiness that lurks in people’s hearts. 

As reported in the Huntington Post:

quotes1A transgender woman whose brutal attack at a McDonald’s restaurant in Maryland was captured on video that later went viral said Saturday she was the victim of a hate crime.
Twenty-two-year-old Chrissy Lee Polis told The Baltimore Sun that since the attack last Monday, "I’m just afraid to go outside now because of stuff like this."
The video posted online shows a woman being attacked and apparently having a seizure. Baltimore County police say a 14-year-old girl has been charged as a juvenile and an 18-year-old woman faces an assault charge in the case.
Polis told the newspaper that after she used the restroom, "They said,
quotes1 - close ‘That’s a dude, that’s a dude and she’s in the female bathroom.’"
"They just seemed like they wanted to pick a fight that night," Polis said.

It was caught on video by an onlooker – itself an act of cowardly by-standing, which has fortunately turned into a helpful instructive tool through the power of the internet.

Senseless Hatred

Please do go to youtube and read the comments on this video.  They are more disturbing that the video itself.  For the lazy among you, I reproduce several below:

  • he fucking deserves it how the hell does he go in a women’s bathroom?

    if I was a girl and he got in the bathroom, I’d chop off his head and stick it to "her" dick!

    DarKnSilenT 4 days ago


  • hahahahah I didn’t know he was a fucking transgender fag

    DarKnSilenT 4 days ago

  • They should Have KILLED That FAGGOT BITCH!Good work Sista’s,Good work.""""Death 2 HOMOSEXUALS""""""!


  • why u dumbass white folk always tryin to put a nigga in jail? that sick bitch got what she deserved

    some1iknow1 2 days ago


I am sad to say that the retorts to these people aren’t much more evolved:

  • Black people the most racist people on earth….if these were white females beating a black female, all hell would broken loose. The fact that no one stopped it because all were apes. Male apes were happy that female apes are beating a helpless person. Black woman sorry, you are ugly, have horrid hair and no one wants you, doesn’t mean you got to beat up people. Same goes for black men, if you act normal like everyone else, you won’t be treated differently. You act like monkeys so people treat u

    MrChutzpah2002 1 hour ago


  • I call that ATTEMPTED MURDER.

    I’m boycotting them (all stores) unless she gets at least $10 McMEGAdollars, after attorneys fees and taxes. If not, I’ll never buy from them again.

    I’m atheist and I have completely superior morality to any of the fucks standing around there. I would have knifed both of those cunts, and the law would be on my side.

    Sincerely, a straight dude.

    JMYock 6 days ago


The Hardest Part is Saying Goodbye

Minutes after leaving my Wildside friends, I felt strangely alone. IMGP0969a

I realized you can’t get very far before you come to understand that the energy and love of the group lifts us all and makes us better, and that the thing I will miss the most – already do! – is being connected to everyone. IMG_1156a

Sure, the internet helps, but it is not the same as being there with each other. Waking up every day in the midst of friends is so comforting and supportive, and it is sad to realize that it will be so long before I can do that again.

It sure was fun!  But in the end, this trip is about the love.

Fetish, Wildside Style

Lather, rinse, repeat…

There I was relaxing by the pool, when a couple of friends joined me…

…one conquered bottle of tequila later, it was time to get ready for the Fetish Party.IMG_1033a1

There are some real fetish girls in the group, but the Wildside Fetish Party is nothing so hardcore.  It is just the same bunch of wonderful gals as the previous night, dressed in latex, leather, corsets and such, coming together for another fabulous get-together of sharing stories and feelings, flirting, touching, camming, dancing, joking…IMG_0943a

It was a really nice party, following which a few of us spent the wee hours of the morning traipsing around the Canal Shops at the Venetian Hotel and Casino, taking some special photos.

We were quite the attraction – my friends more so than me, believe me – and stranger after stranger came up to us asking if they could have their picture taken with us, which we happily obliged.IMG_1066a

By 5 a.m. we had snapped a hundred photos and were feeling pretty good about ourselves and all the attention we were getting.

But we were about to be brought down a peg.

Being a bit hungry, we stopped off for a burger and shake.  Walking back to the hotel from there, we passed a drunken fool who gets credit for the comment of the night – a comment that we found as funny as it was assinine:

“Oh geez! From a distance, I thought you all were hot.  I hope you take that as a compliment.”

How could we not?

Him Again!

Sometimes, feelings hit you by surprise.

Case in point, I am here in Las Vegas, having spent the past four days in boy mode with GF at a Rockabilly convention.  What a fabulous event it was, demonstrating that the 60-year old spirit of 1950s rock and roll, rhythm and blues and country hillbilly music is alive and well and that the next generation will keep the faith in impressive numbers and with ample exuberance.

Everyone was dolled up impressively in vintage fashions, with a certain modern edge for the younger set, the old and beautiful cars were on display, and The Killer himself – Jerry Lee Lewis – rocked the stage in impressive form.

In this environment, GF has (correctly) ordained that it is appropriate that we go as boy and girl – and I play the part of boy, cuz she’s no good at it.  Her soft voice, ample bust and very curvy hips make it pretty much impossible for her, but that’s a subject for another time.

So, here I am now, after a few days of floating on the very best kind of energy I know, and very much looking forward to the massive influx of my tranny friends tomorrow morning and beyond, and I feel…


…like a guy. 

I bought a bunch of very cool guy clothes today – I don’t often buy guy clothes any more but vintage stuff is just so cool and fits me much better than anything made in the past 20 years – and I haven’t really thought or felt girl for some time!  For the most part, I have been lamenting my inability to better look the part of a 50s hipster because of my long hair.

As I was putting away my boy clothes this evening, GF looked at me with a bit of sadness on her face – sad to say goodbye to her guy, with whom she got to spend a solid four days for the first time in ages – and, to my surprise, I kinda felt the same way.

It is time to shift gears, even if the clutch is stuck.  I’ll have time to think about what this all means when I get home, but starting tomorrow is a week I don’t want to miss.  My spirit will catch up in no time flat, I expect.

Hey Baby, Let’s Go to Vegas!

The annual Sin City Soirée is coming up in just a few days… so exciting!

For those of you who haven’t been with me for that long, I have been going to an annual t-girl week in Las Vegas for a few years now, and find it to be a celebration of all that’s great about being T!IMG_4230a

Every year, a totally accepting, fun, enthusiastic, happy group of girls gathers in Las Vegas to make friends, lounge by the pool, go out dancing at night, and just have a sublimely exhausting week of merriment.DSCN0431a

We go everywhere and anywhere, and don’t mind turning a few heads while we’re at it.

We welcome new girls every year, and accept them as family from Day One.  I am no social butterfly, but I can tell you that I have never felt so at ease, so welcomed and instantly accepted and loved by strangers as I did the day I met these girls.4559988320_483eb57db6_ba

The girls run the gamut from passable to not, from crossdresser to transitioning, from those who spend the whole week as girls to those who hang out with us in boy mode from time to time, and from the four corners of the globe, and there is no attitude, no ego, no judging and no expectations.IMG_6295a

So many girls have simply bloomed like a flower as a result of exposure to this group’s energy.

We all show up, participate as much or as little as we want – and have a blast!  We talk, we make real friends… and we stay in touch all year long… until we get to do it again!

Tipping the Scales

Following on from yesterday’s post about being androgynous on the male side (I think), I eventually did put on both makeup and heels, tipping the scales to the feminine side, but I’m sure I could still pass as male from a bit of a distance if I controlled my feminine gait and walked like a man.

On the other hand, who knows, maybe I still don’t even look like a girl…  hard for me to tell any more.


Boy or Girl

Today was an Androgyny Day for me… a day when I had to go out and not set off alarm bells, even as I wanted to be a girl.  On these days, I call myself Andro-Janie. Winking smileIMG_0356a

I have made a point in the past of explaining how I really prefer to keep the genders separate, both in my own way of being and in the people to whom I am attracted.

I never seek to come off as a feminine male or a masculine female, so this exercise may come off as seeming to be a bit contradictory.

What I am trying to achieve here is a look that is kind of a blank canvas – neither feminine nor masculine (the definition of androgynous) – so that hopefully my gender will be ascertained entirely from my demeanor, which can be quite specifically male or female, as the situation requires.IMG_0355a

If my clothes themselves, or my appearance, do come off as either masculine or feminine, or both, then I have failed, and have ended up doing what I am trying to avoid – mixing the genders together.

As you can see from the photos, I am wearing all girl clothes from head to toe (underneath too), and even a bit of jewellery.  Girl jeans, a girl long-sleeved T, girl running shoes… well, you can see.

What I am not wearing is makeup (other than my light foundation), a bra, or heels.

So, what do you think?  Boy?  or girl?

This Time I’ve Gone Too Far!

Check out the video:


Too Far


As an emerging t-girl, I go through ups and downs… sometimes wondering whether I have gone way too far down the wrong road.

The trouble is finding a pure perspective from which to analyze my true feelings and desires.

She’s Always There

For one thing, every day when I get up, I am greeted in the mirror with a hairless body and face, and long curly locks flowing from my head…

…and I have to ask myself whether I am no longer giving my male self a fair chance to predominate.  Picture 100a

Could it be possible that Janie was just a phase or a mistake, but she lingers on because I can’t shake her because my guy self has now been hidden under pink nighties and soft skin?  I wonder how different I would feel if I cut my hair short and woke up with a beard and in more masculine nightclothes.

Exposure to Exposure

The second problem is the constant exposure to tranny porn online. 

It is not that I seek it out, but every single day I get friend requests and emails from people, a significant proportion of whom invariably are sexually motivated and provocatively displayed on their profiles.

I am sure that my own provocativeness is partly responsible, but I have to be who I am.

In any event, I end up seeing naked tgirls and sex pictures every day, as well as receiving some salacious prose as well… some of which I’ll have to admit, I find um… distracting.

So, again, if I can’t help being turned on by some of this stuff, does it not skew my perspective, and reinforce a pleasure response to trannyism even if it may not be my true calling?

In the end, all I am saying is that I would feel a lot better about being Janie – a lot more confident in my choices – if I could somehow get to a place where my perspective was untainted by these things and then still make the same choice.

My Idea of Romance

I realize that it is easy to be confused by my writings on what I want from men – either because it is complicated and unusual or because it is still in a state of flux and I don’t seem to know what the hell I’m talking about.

So, I’d like to give it another go – to explain it to myself as much as to you.

In my early days as a girl, everything was more simplistic, and I thought a lot about having sex with a man – pretty much pornographic thoughts.  (Some of these are expressed in a few multi-part stories I wrote for my Naughty Blog.)

But, like any other girl, a t-girl can grow up.  Those of us who come to this well into adulthood find ourselves going through a type of accelerated adolescence in many respects – not just the sexual.  We can be self-absorbed, confused, ecstatic, depressed, etc.  Just ask our wives and girlfriends.IMG_6809a

Anyhow, it seems to me that I have always wanted what a regular heterosexual woman wants.  So, as I “matured,” what that came to be was a romantic relationship with a man.

In the context of my life, and the fact that I already have a lifelong love and partner, the idea of what a romantic relationship with a man means has to be massaged a bit.

And, what comes out of the extruder is some kind of a FWB relationship…in other words, a guy with whom I can be friends, who respects and likes me, and who will take me out – and take me home –from time to time. 

Breast of All

We CDs are often preoccupied with the boobs we don’t have, and I think that’s a shame.

I, for one, have dropped the whole thing for the most part.  I have noticed that many supermodels have precious little in the breast department, and clothes fit best on them.

My own GF, who is well-endowed to say the least, is jealous of how clothes hang on me.IMG_1212a

So, don’t fret.

In some sense, we have the best of all worlds.  There may be some stigma attached to women padding their breast size, but no such thing applies to us.  We can be buxom one day and flat-chested the next. 

And, I think we should take full advantage.

Those of us for whom the whole point of having boobs is to turn themselves on, well, you’ll just have to invest in those silicone titties that have the right weight and texture.  You may have to glue them to your chest if you need them to stay on without a bra.

I’ve been there, and for me it is just not worth it.

When my outfit needs the silhouette of breasts, I rely on carefully selected bras to do the job.  These bras are almost always padded B-cups whose shape fits snugly against my chest all the way around the cup.

The fact that I am not wearing fake boobs is a big bonus is allowing me not to feel false.  When I get undressed – alone or otherwise – there are no falsies to fall out, no silicone attachments to hide.

It’s all me…

Comment Commentary

As a blogger, I love getting comments.  It shows that people are interested and involved in what I write.

But, comments can be a source of trouble as well.  I count my blessings that I have had few problems, but one always strives to do better.

Outright nasty people are easy enough.  As much as reading their comments is upsetting, they go straight into the garbage, where they belong.IMG_0730a

I have a bit more trouble when someone I think is trying to honestly contribute to the discussion gives in to their personal prejudices, gets carried away with their own perspective, or loses focus. 

I have a tendency, rather than to cut them off by deleting their comments, to hope, through an exchange of views, that they will find their way back; I have learned that it usually doesn’t work.

It leaves me with a conundrum; I don’t want to discourage them permanently from contributing, but also don’t want to publish their offending comment.

Recent experience has taught me to err on the side of stricter standards rather than accommodation.

In that vein, I would like to apologize to those of you out there who were privy to an exchange of comments on my blog that should never have happened.  I regret my involvement in that pointless and petty process and I shall strive to avoid such things in the future.

Hey, I never said I was perfect (far from it)…

Billy Elliot The Musical

NOW Magazine, an independent weekly entertainment paper in Toronto, recently ran a rave review of the above-titled show.  It gushed:


The review begins:

quotes1Based on its opening night reaction, Billy Elliot The Musical is here to stay for a good long time. In decades of theatregoing, I’ve never seen so many standing ovations, including one that literally stopped the show midway through the second act. But guess what? They were all deserved. This is one of the best new musicals of the millennium.

It’s based on Stephen Daldrey’s 2000 film about a working class boy whose dreams of becoming a ballet dancer are set against the grim quotes1 - closereality of his northern England mining community. The setting is 1984, and Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s threats to close the state-owned mines have forced the workers to strike.

I’m not going to plagiarize the whole thing – if you want to read it, it can be found here.

Amid the ooh-ing and aahh-ing, one line caught my eye:

“[They] cleverly integrate the theme of personal expression and freedom into several numbers, including a brilliant setpiece about crossdressing that needs to be seen to be believed.”

I have yet to see this show, but I am quite interested in finding out more about anything about CDs that attracts words like those.


The eyes are the focal point of the face, and so eye-makeup is probably the most important part of overall makeup.  The possibilities are endless, both for artistry and foul-ups.

Before providing any guidance on doing the job, I wanted to provide a sampling of what I find to be outstanding eyes.

Perhaps next week, I will compile some info on how to do some of these looks…

Smoky Eyes Makeup Tutorial 1Eye Makeup - The first way to start looking your best!eye makeup image

Above left are subtly smoky eyes; top right I found the little green dot opposing those wild lashes and matching the colored lenses quite striking; bottom right: stunning green peepers.

Just gorgeous, perfect smoky eyes, above, and a stunning, dramatic look below.

Bridal Eye Makeup Ideas-3

The following photo shows wonderful color selection and application.

Sometimes, the subtlest of looks are the hardest to replicate – an example is the photo below, left – so fresh and light.  On the right is an example of a standout, sharp lash line, and I’ve followed it below with some drawings of highly defined, very dramatic examples, primarily goth but other unique looks too.

Dramatic eye makeup tips and pics,brown makeup tips 

Dropping Like Flies

I went through the Blogroll on my site today, just to keep things up to date and to make sure and visit some sites I may have been remiss in visiting for some time.

Much to my surprise – and disappointment – fully half of those blogs were either defunct or stale-dated.

It got me to wondering about bloggers, and specifically t-bloggers.  Is this attrition rate normal in the blogging world orIMG_0783a does it apply only to us?

I’m not sure.  But, I do know that there are a host of reasons for a t-blogger to stop. 

Burnout is probably the most common – there just isn’t enough time in the day to manage two lives (as we must) and a blog, and something has to give.

Sudden blog demises occur as a result of being found out – as was the case with one that I particularly liked – or the author having purged or given up crossdressing.

And some just run their course.  Either the blogger runs out of things to say, or, on a more hopeful note, the blog has served its purpose to its creator, who has moved onward and upward.

As those of you who have followed me know, I too have had some speed-wobbles along the way, getting overwhelmed with demands on my time, or wondering sometimes whether I shouldn’t hang up my high-heeled keyboard and return to the “sane” path.  IMG_0782a

Also – and most frustrating of all – sometimes I feel like I am screaming in an empty (padded) room… that no one hears or really cares about anything I say…

But I do love being Janie and writing about my feelings and thoughts and participating in my own small way in the wonderful online t-community.  I want to make my site bigger and better, but I have no idea from whence the time will come to deal with such success, if it comes.  On the other hand, if my efforts fail, there is a chance that I may get discouraged enough to stop posting – or at least to rethink my goals here. 

The life and times of a CD can be fraught with emotion, confusion and even despair.  But, these are layered in with joy and fulfillment and eroticism and self-examination. 

And it’s that ying and yang, the ups and downs – that’s what makes it all so grand to write about… and what keeps me (and hopefully you) engaged.

Vlog–Spring is in the Air

Spring is in the Air

Sharpen Your Pencil

One of my absolute fave pieces of clothing is the classic pencil skirt.  I think this is an essential component of every girl’s wardrobe, but then again, what do I know?

It is true that this style skirt is actually the best choice for curvy women – it emphasizes the hourglass shape of their figures and takes pounds off by tapering in from the hips to the knees. (And note that the best length is just around the knee, okay?  And don’t even think of wearing flats with this look, please!)IMG_9561a

Of course, we CDs are a bit lacking in the curve department.  But, the pencil skirt can still be our best friend. The easiest way to achieve this is to wear a flared top over the skirt.  This will provide the illusion of hips, and the narrow part that of the skirt that is showing will taper in, emphasizing the illusion. 

But, try it even without covering the top of the skirt.  Some of them are cut in such a way that there is a semblance of hips, especially if the waist is tight enough. 

One caveat: a properly fitting pencil skirt will be relatively flat in the front, which means that you have to properly arrange your male parts to avoid a tell-tale crease in the skirt.

That said, there are two further advantages to the pencil skirt that I have yet to mention.

The first is that it forces you to walk like a lady.  One simply cannot trudge along with yard-long strides in the confines of a narrow skirt-bottom falling just above the knee.  You will also have to sit with your knees together.  These are things you ought always to be doing, and this fine fashion item can be your constant friendly reminder.

Second, for those of you who like bondage, or the feeling of confinement, this conservative garment will put a tingle in your day, surreptitiously keeping you from moving freely.  Go with it… it’s a sublime feeling… (I’ve heard… Winking smile)

Jail’s a Drag

No uniforms for German prisoners, unlike many other countries.  They are allowed to wear regular clothes.

This rather odd state of affairs recently gave rise to a situation where a prisoner insisted on his right to crossdress in prison.handcuffs

Fearing for his safety, prison officials wouldn’t allow it, but a court ruled that this was a violation of his individual rights and anti-discrimination laws, which are more important.

Perhaps this prisoner would be safer in the women’s prison?

Painting Outside the Lines

(…continued from The Answer to My Prayers)

Old habits die hard. 

I have talked about wanting to change the focus of my lifestyle from the safe and conservative, middle of the road to something more interesting and beautiful and sublime – painting outside the lines if you will… and that Janie’s appearance in my life helps move me in that direction.Picture 7a

As much as the first part of my life has been successful by many measures, it isn’t what I want. Not to take anything for granted, it’s just not enough.

Still, the kind of change I’m talking about is not easy.  The people you know expect the same thing from you that they have always had, and I can’t help but cling to the things upon which I have founded my existence for lo these many decades. Self-doubt is natural.

And, one of the main doubts is about Janie.

Truth be told, there are many ways to make incremental changes to guide my life in a different direction and add some of the things I have talked about. Much can be accomplished without resorting to something as earth-shattering as adopting the opposite gender.

You’d think…

…but then again, this exercise isn’t about practicality, is it?

Love Can Hurt

Today, I watched a video on youtube by Sophia Watson, an attractive young t-girl with a most beautiful spirit.

Sophia’s Video

In it, she talks about telling her folks that she wants to be a girl, and their disappointment and reaction to the news.

She was obviously hurt by their initial looks of disappointment, and predictions of how this would destroy her life.

I know that feeling, and I find it hardest to deal with being deeply hurt by someone who is genuinely trying to do what they think best for me out of love. 

Parents tend to overestimate their understanding of things, which is based on their singular experience in life.  As a child, I hesitated to challenge that experience, having had so little of it myself.  So there is a strong tendency to self-doubt under such circumstances.  Parents’ predictions of doom can really feel like cutting your legs out from under you.

In the case of a career choice, one can always reconsider; if you are indeed trans, it is not really a choice, is it?

But, they may be under a misapprehension as to the biological nature of the condition.  And they see the difficulties that are certainly out there.  So they try and dissuade from following that path. 

Perhaps if they are educated as to the science of being trans, they might relent; after all, no one judges, or tries to talk someone out of being blind, even if it makes life difficult.

Still, even without knowing it is unavoidable, one would hope that after trying to dissuade their child from what they think is an unwise course of action, a loving parent would accept their child’s determined desire and support them as best they can.

Which brings me to the true heartbreak of this video… where her folks explain that to avoid being tossed out of the extended family, they cannot be seen to harbor one such as her.

I try not to judge too harshly people whose circumstances I do not know, but that sounds like an awfully bitter pill to swallow; a cruel and selfish thing to say and do to someone you’re supposed to love and protect.

Stretch That Body

Today, I offer you my own special physical fitness video on “How to Stretch.” 

If the question you’re more inclined to ask is “Why to Stretch?” well, perhaps watching the clip will give you some ideas on that as well…

If you’re a committed couch-potato, maybe watching is its own reward.

How to stretch…

There is no “O” in Sex (sometimes)

I continue to be surprised by some of the insights I have gained in my journey between the genders.  Sometimes, I feel like a double-agent, infiltrating the feminine ranks in the dating game and bringing back valuable insights for the male side.

In her wonderful comments on one of my blog posts about a month ago, Trish reminded me about one such insight, and I have been meaning to write about it ever since, only getting to it now. (Sorry.)

Trish’s comments, which are well worth the read, talk about how she and the men she dates relate to each other, especially sexually. 

Two points she makes towards the end stood out for me, one because it was totally opposite to my own perspective and the other because I could totally relate.IMG_9918a1

The naked chit-chatting over a glass of wine about family, sports and work after sex is something I would feel completely awkward doing.  Snuggling and sleeping, I get.  Leaving, I get.  But not this.

On the other hand, Trish’s ideas about the sex itself are similar to my own.  But what I really twigged to was her comment about never having an orgasm yet totally enjoying herself.

…don’t know about “never” but…

Pssst… Want to Know a Secret

I think most men have had the experience of being with a woman who, for one reason or another, was not able to climax during a sexual encounter.  Especially in the context of a relationship, she might say something along the lines of, “ Don’t worry, honey.  I really enjoyed it.  I don’t have to cum every time.”

What man has ever believed that?  She’s just sparing our feelings, being nice… Right?

Well, I can tell you that I have uttered those words myself, as a girl, and I have sincerely and truly meant them.

Sometimes, it really doesn’t matter. 

Sometimes, you just want to be with someone in a special way.

I certainly never understood that point of view as a guy, and I am not even able to understand why it is true for me as a girl…

…but it is. 


Birds Do It… even Rockstars Do It

I have made mention several times in the recent past about crossdressing in popular media.

There is some dispute as to whether or not the portrayal of us, such as it is, is helpful or rather insulting, but what seems now undeniable is that we have been part of popular culture for hundreds of years. 

I never noticed any reference to crossdressers in my childhood, but with a different set of eyes, watching reruns of everything from Bewitched to Get Smart, there we are!

And, of course, before that, there were references in Shakespeare, Greek mythology, Mark Twain, etc.  Aerosmith Confirms Steven Tyler as

The music business is rife with crossdressers, from rockstars (Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler at right) to opera singers.  And, stories abound about females dressing as males over the years to gain access to work reserved for males.

I will have more to say on this subject in the future, and I especially want to focus on whether there has been any progression, any hint that society is starting to embrace us as real people.

In the meantime, I have discovered a terrific post on the history of crossdressing in popular culture.  If this topic interests you, I recommend you click on over there and have a look:

Work It!

ABC has ordered a pilot for a series that centers on two out-of-work car salesmen who realize that it is now a woman’s world and their chances of landing jobs and succeeding as  pharmaceutical reps will improve if they present as women.

Yes, it’s right out of the ‘80s Bosom Buddies, well, bosom! 

Let’s see if it lasts… but everywhere you look… there we are!


Church Steps

The snow had melted and it was a beautiful sunny winter day, perfect for a picture of me sitting on the church steps contemplating life… what I have become… where I came from… where I’m going…


Trying My Hand at Fashion

While it is always exciting to find that magnificent dress or perfect outfit, a girl’s true style comes from her everyday look.  Integral to developing a personal style and keeping it fresh and interesting are feature pieces and accessories that turn the mundane into the chic, the boring into the Wow!

I have found that often it is the simplest of pieces that, used judiciously, make an outift.


This blush blazer by Alfred Sung (under $40!!) turns a simple jeans and t-shirt, or chinos and shirt into something special.  Be careful, though, with the rolled-up sleeves; unless your forearms are quite thin, that will make you look like Popeye.

5H&M and American Eagle Outfitters have white tuxedo-style jackets with black collars for $70 that will luxe up a pair of black jeans and a shirt.  Just remember to wear a nice pair of heels to complete the look.


Note the slim, understated pink belt with the blazer above and imagine how much it adds to the look. 

Without the blazer, you might want to accessorize these separates with a more distinctive belt, and a metal one is a great choice.  In our particular case – being that we don’t come by the narrow-waist-wide-hips thing naturally – belt placement is more challenging and sometimes just doesn’t work.  Just remember where your waist is supposed to be (right under your ribcage) when you wear belts that belong on your waist, and make it tight enough that it won’t fall down (being as our waists and hips tend to be about the same circumference).  You may want to consider pinning the belt on one side.huesofnature :: Felted Bunny Purse - photo

Look also at a distinctive pair of sunglasses, or a special feminine watch as a way of adding sparkle to your look.  Finally, a splurge on a purse, or at least a standout color is another way to make a fashion statement and add punch to a plain look. 

With these tips, you can transform your look from drab into chic, as you transform yourself from drab into chick.

Jeans and Chromosomes

Cast your gaze to the right-most model, and note the new “Ex-Girlfriend” jeans for men, by Levis.

Aside from looking terribly uncomfortable and, if I may provide my own personal opinion, quite unflattering, it is yet another testament to the popularity of the blurring of styles between the genders. 

As my local paper put it: “[A] fascinating question this raises: Is cross-dressing now as mainstream as Levi’s?”

If it were only so.

Unfortunately, my local paper is a bit confused about what crossdressing is and isn’t.  And, this isn’t crossdressing.

Crossdressing is about gender specificity – it’s a guy trying to project girl. 

Androgyny, which is where these fashion trends are headed, is altogether something else – a person trying to project neither boy nor girl, or perhaps both at the same time.  Gender nullity, or gender blurring.

Rare is the man that can pull off “effeminate” in a way that I find attractive.  But, that’s just me.

As a matter of personal preference, I like gender specificity: feminine women, masculine men, both as who to be and whom to be with.

My Valentine


I got the nicest Valentine’s Day card from my sweetie – a video retrospective of our relationship set to “You’ve Got A Way” by Shania Twain.

Lots of memories and reminders of how much she cares for me, takes care of me, makes me laugh, makes me happy.  A true valentine! 

Click to listen to “You’ve Got a Way”

I saw a lot of love between us there, especially as man and woman. 

Simple times, nothing to hide…

Sure makes me think…

Sexy Secretary–More

I promised you more photos from that set, but for now, I’ve decided to post only this one, which is my personal fave from the shoot:


Sexy Secretary Update

Flickr is a funny place.  You never can tell which photos will become popular, and which will just languish.IMG_9556a1

Seems that a quartet of highly mediocre pictures, cleverly titled by yours truly as Sexy Secretary 1, Sexy Secretary 2… etc., have become my most frequently-viewed photos on that site.  They originally appeared here. (Click to see the photos.)

Seeing the source of my hits, there is no doubt that no small part of the success was due to the fact that they appear fairly well-placed in a Google image-search for that tried-and-true, if not cliché, sexual fantasy.

Oh, was a time when a sexy secretary was her boss’s dirty little secret, or an irresistible temptation to extra-marital affairs.  IMG_9614a

That former playground for men has now been turned into a minefield of sexual harassment liability, but still hasn’t lost its allure as a fantasy.  Perhaps the illicit nature of it and society’s disapproval has made it all the more appealing to the naughty mind.

I have been meaning to improve, if only slightly, on the photos I presented back then.  No doubt these will be roundly ignored by flickr audiences.  But, a girl has to do what she thinks is right anyway.

As usual, the more demure photos will appear right here (today and tomorrow), while the racier ones can be found on my Naughty Blog.  As always, click the photo for a much larger version.

Bitter Divorce or…

Insinuations and innuendo and the Howard Stern Show aren’t strangers, so I’m sure they were champing at the bit when faced with the opportunity to spill some sexy Hollywood gossip…

And what better source than the spurned soon-to-be-ex-wife of a star?

Victim of the day: Kelsey Grammer, care of "Real Housewives of Beverly Hills" star Camille Grammer.

[From the L.A. Times] When Stern pressed Camille about Kelsey’s sexuality, she maintained that he’s not gay, but that "La Cage aux Folles," the Broadway show in which he currently stars, was the "right" play for him.

"La Cage," of course, revolves around a glitzy drag-show nightclub on the French Riviera.

"He likes to dress up like a woman?" co-host Robin Quivers asked.

"I didn’t say it. I’m not talking about it," Camille said slyly.

Stern continued to probe Camille for information, asking if Kelsey wouldn’t stretch out Camille’s unmentionables if he were to try them on. "He has a small waist," she answered.

Finally, trying to end the inquisition, she said, "I’m going to be slapped with a lawsuit," and saying of her soon-to-be ex-husband, "He’s all man."

Sounds to me like a scorned woman who’s trying to stir up some trouble after her estranged husband announced his engagement to a woman half his age in late December, despite being legally married to Camille. 

But, seriously, Camille.. what’s wrong with being a crossdresser?  I don’t get it? Winking smile

CrossDressing Tennis Player

French tennis player Nicolas Mahut is best remembered for losing in the longest tennis match in history, a 70-68 final set match against John Isner in last year’s Wimbledon.

This year, Mahut raised the bar even higher, not because of his tennis skills, but for being perhaps the first ever cross-dressing tennis player.

Mahut recently came out to play a mixed doubles match at the Hopman Cup wearing a female tennis outfit which he borrowed from his partner, Kristina Mladenovic… I suspect, on a dare or having lost a bet.  But who really knows.

One thing’s for sure, there was a lot of laughter…

Here’s the good-natured video:



Trannies in Vogue

Kate MossNo less a mainstream authority than Conde Nast, publisher of fashion stalwarts such as Vogue, W, Glamour, Allure, Style etc. has jumped on the tranny bandwagon with their most recent issue of LOVE Magazine, featuring stunning supermodel Kate Moss in an open-mouthed embrace with Brazilian tranny model Lea T. on the cover.

You will note too, from the picture, that they have mixed things up further by having Moss in the more masculine role.

The magazine is a twice-yearly fashion publication, and this issue is more or less dedicated to the theme of androgyny.

And, reports are that it has created quite a buzz!

Well, good for them.  And good for us!!

The more society feels itself comfortable to play with gender, gender appearance, gender roles, the more they come to understand what we’re all about.

And, the more people get used to seeing androgynous images, the less we will stand out.

Of course, not everyone will buy in…

One fashion writer reporting on this magazine issue said “The cover of LOVE is one threesome we’d just have to pass up.”

On the positive side, he’s actually visualizing the possibility.  He may yet come around, but for now, he seems hell-bent on passing up one heck of a terrific fantasy!

Lustful Longings

Lately, for whatever reason, my libido has been running on overdrive.

And, that goes for both sides of my being.

Just yesterday I was sitting in a cafe, wearing a tank top and jeans, when I felt this guy brush against the back of my bare shoulders on his way by.  My skin was atingle with desire, hoping he might stop and say hello…  sadly, to no avail…

Then, today, I (the “he”-me) saw a movie trailer, and the vision of the porcelain-skinned Emily Blunt in that low-cut dress (pictured) had me swooning, and fantasizing like an adolescent boy.

Why my hormones are on high-alert is a mystery to me, and more surprising is the male side. 

For most of the last few years, my sexuality has been dominated by my feminine perspective.  The somewhat crudely-framed epithet: “rather be her than do her” has been pretty much on the mark for me, when confronted with a beautiful woman.

So, imagine my surprise when these masculine sexual longings jumped to the fore…

In the same vein, there have been recent episodes where I have regressed to seeing myself as a feminine object of desire as distinguished from just my girl self.  I can’t remember feeling that way since the first days of my crossdressing.

Just goes to show that my feminine development is anything but a straight line.

Photoshoot Video

If you’ve been wondering what goes on behind the scenes when I take pictures for this blog and for flickr, wait no longer.

Below, you’ll find a video of a recent photoshoot – the pics from that shoot are not up yet. 

Actually, it is only half the photoshoot…  It got a little more risqué as it went on, so the second half is something I may show one day on my Naughtier Site.

I take pictures in a number of different ways – studio sessions, sessions with a photographer and some just with a timer, outdoor shoots, spontaneous pics, etc.   All of it is amateur to the nth degree, so much so that I hesitate to show it…

This video is just a quick session with a camera and a timer, but the results were pretty decent.  The striptease is no extra charge Winking smile.  I hope you like it.


Photoshoot Video

Getting a Little More Playful

I have a few more shots of me on (and around) the couch that I thought you might enjoy; I know I enjoyed taking them…  Winking smile

As a few of them are a little more “interesting” than is the norm for this site, they can be found on my sister site, which I call The Naughtier Side of Claire Delilah Jane Black

But first, here are a couple to get your appetite whetted.


And, please, if there’s something you like and want to see more of – or if there’s something you don’t like and want to see less of – please let me know. 

Voyages in the Pink

How fast a year goes by, but here we are again in January, and it is time for the 2nd annual “In the Pink Award.” 

The inaugural award was an occasion of unabashedly debatable distinction, chronicled by media outlets far and wide… ahem… beginning and ending here, on my blog – history buffs can find the post here.

Quip as I might, it is entirely self-deprecating, with not a smidgeon of deprecation left over for the honoree.  My admiration and respect for the winner (and now winners) is utterly genuine and heartfelt.In the Pink Icon Text Curl 2011wmk

This year’s winner is Petra Bellejambes and her blog “Voyages en Rose.”  Three cheers!  Hurrah!

If any blog, by title alone, deserves to be recognized as “In the Pink” it is this one.  (For those non-francophones out there, the title translates as “Journeys in Pink.”)

But, nevermind the title; it is the content that shines so very brightly.  She is a master-craftswoman with words, spinning out artful writing as poetic as it is profound.  I am truly in awe of her skill.

Petra pretty much has it all: she’s smart, sexy, thoughtful and witty.  She has a masterful way of putting her thoughts across with evocative metaphors and brilliant prose.  She also has a great knowledge and love of women’s fashion, which she lovingly shares with her readers in addition to the musings about life as a t-girl.

In the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit a bit of a potential for perceived nepotism here, as she is a fellow Canadian and a dear friend, but rest assured that one look at her fascinating and amazingly well-written body of work and you will be convinced.

Congratulations, Petra! 

Public School Crossdressing Day

Item from the local paper:

quotes1“The student council at King City Public School thought a great way to celebrate “school spirit” day would be for the boys to dress like girls and the girls to dress like boys. But what began as an offbeat suggestion for a fun day quickly became fodder for an quotes1 - closeintense debate over family values, the psychological implications of cross-dressing and whether gender identity politics were being forced on young minds.”

Once this event came to the attention of a certain Reverend, who is described as “a staunch social conservative who has expressed concerns in the past about a “homosexual agenda” in the school system” it became a whole brouhaha over gender politics in the schools, and was quickly withdrawn, despite the principal’s insistence that it was the students’ idea.

I’m not sure where I come down on this one, but I am sure that some of the comments on this story illustrate how much ignorance and hatred still percolates below the surface in our society, even in more “enlightened” locales.  It is not so much the actual words but the underlying sentiments that worry me.

A few examples to suffice:

  • “Boys are boys and girls are girls – the riduculous left-wing notion that "gender is a fluid social construct" must be destroyed.”
  • “Perversion is mistaken sexual identity, and cross-dressing is mistaken sexual identity, so to think the one would have no effect on the other is a little bit non-credible… One who favors cross-dressing among impressionable school kids is supportive of much more than he may think he is. It is not innocent fun, and it had to have the support of not so “innocent” teachers to have been adopted as what would be the major learning experience of a day.”
  • “I think it’s wrong for the school to force these kids to be gay. Think of the children!”
  • “First – a confession. Homosexuals creep me out – especially fudge packers, so I certainly have no "gay agenda". The adults who stupidly got involved in a bit of harmless pre-pubescent fun should seek professional help. Besides making asses of themselves, they have sent a message to the children that stuff like that is really, really important.  a non-existent issue has become important purely because of their domineering correctness. Arghhh!”

Now it’s your turn.  What say you?

Today I’m Straight, Tomorrow Not So Much

It never occurred to me to go get my hair done on a day when I had specific plans at night during which I could show it off.  It simply hasn’t been a concern, because my hair has always been easy to style and roughly the same most every day.

Well, no more.IMG_9050a

As she was blow-drying my hair to a smooth and silky straight wave, my hairdresser asked me if I was going out.  When I hesitated, she said, “Oh, you have to.”  And, I agreed, at least with the sentiment.IMG_9054a

But I didn’t end up going out, because I had too many things to attend to.  However, I did make a point of taking a bunch of pictures, so as to preserve the memory.

Next morning, my hair still roughly the same, I went out in the moist, snowy air to shovel, and when I came back inside my head was adorned in glorious red ringlets! 

And, that’s the way my hair will likely stay until my next appointment, which I fathom will be, no doubt, on the eve of a major party!

Hair-Stressed, Hair-Dressed

Damn if my hair stylist didn’t up and depart for a suburban salon, leaving me high and dry… and all frizzed out!

I hate to kill the melodrama straight off, but despite the anxiety of having to find someone with the right skills and… ahem… temperament to handle an oddball such as I am, there are no worries… 

I think I may have found someone even better. 

Having just had my hair done, I believe that both the results and the conversation were appreciably better.

It is well accepted that what goes on between a girl and her stylist is subject to the highest order of confidentiality… or is that gossip?… not sure…

…but, nevertheless, the results must be dutifully shared with everyone.



Exclusive Spa

Item in the local paper today about beating the winter blahs:

quotes1Get naked at… a women-only spa… Indulge yourself with a 90-minute quotes1 - closebody wash: they exfoliate your skin with freshly-grated ginger,sugar and cardamom, then pour hot milk over your body… Close your eyes and suddenly you’re in Scandinavia.

Gosh, that would be nice!IMG_0470a2

But, alas, they’d never let me in there… it’s women-only.

Suddenly, peaceful thoughts of Swedish bliss give way to the not-so-subtle anxiety of politics, and then to wishes that I could shut my mind up once in a while.

In the end, however, though others may feel differently, I accept my exclusion from this spa with equanimity. 

I know that it would be impossible to accommodate me and the very few others like me without making uncomfortable a sizable number of the women who go there and destroying their business.  In today’s society and with today’s sensibilities, this type of facility could not exist on those terms.IMG_2086a

I am exceedingly thankful for the freedoms I do have and feel no compelling need to have my way in every place at every time.

Maybe I am missing some of the wider implications, but I accept the practical limits on my rights and hope for the day when, through education and familiarity, gender fluidity becomes more accepted and more comfortable.

In the meantime, I doubt that this kind of thing is worth creating a fuss.  I figure it is better to concentrate on mainstream acceptance in mainstream activities, even if the thought of a main-stream of hot white milk over my exotically spiced body sets my heart aflutter.  

Ho hum…

Wild Sexy Red Wig

The last post contained a shot of me on the bed in a silver dress and red wig.  In case you liked it, here’s another…


Just One Look–That’s All It Took

I seem to be in a reflective, backward-focused mode these days, and the result, blog-wise is some Janie history.  Last post, I provided some photos of me when my hair was still quite short.  Now, I want to talk wigs.

Back when I first started crossdressing, I had this shortish black wig and I went by my first name, Claire. t072da

Looking at myself in the mirror, the name fit the relatively classy look of the wig.  (…not that a classy girl can’t be a bit kinky Winking smile)

But after spending a lot of time as Claire, I felt that there was a much more exuberant, fun girl dying to break out, and my then-current look didn’t match that personality.

So, off to the wig store I went.  I tried on some nice wigs, many styles and differing levels of quality, wondering if this one or that was what I was seeking.

And then I found it. 

I knew it the second I peered into the mirror  – that this relatively inexpensive, red wig was me.  It just looked… right! 

t094uaI just loved the long hair, the full, thick curls and the wild color! 

I’d have been happier to find this look in an exquisite human-hair wig, but as I was just starting out, perhaps having some time to see how things go with a cheap one was better after all.

Returning to my mirror in the new wig, I realized that the girl staring back at me didn’t really feel like Claire; rather she was exactly a match for my middle name – Jane.IMG_8721a

And, from the vantage point of the present – a few years on, I also realize another thing.

The reason that wig was so perfect is because it is practically an exact recreation of my own natural hair – ok a bit of a caricature, but pretty close.  Look at the photos and judge for yourself.

At the time, I’d never grown my hair long so I didn’t know it then – at least not consciously – but obviously some part of me knew.  Much in the same way, I guess, that I didn’t realize for many years that there was a girl within me, but some part of me knew that too, it seems. Winking smile

Haaaaaaiir’s Janie!

(The title is s’posed to be a take-off on the old Tonight Show intro, for those old enough to recall.)

On the occasion of the new year, I have been going through past photos and seeing how I have changed over time.

Today, I present four shots from a few years back, when my hair was much shorter than it is now.

So tell me, do you prefer me with long hair, short hair or somewhere in between? (Once again, all photos link to larger versions, as always.)IMG_2413a




Unscrambled Eggs

I have been relaxing this weekend watching tv and reading the paper.  Whenever I sit around for a while and just observe, I am always surprised at the amount of exposure we crossdressers are getting in mainstream media.

Two immediate examples to suffice. 

Saturday Night Live was hosted by Jim Carrey, who played a ballerina in one of the sketches, there was a still shot going to commercial of him with breasts.A man changes into women's clothing during his transformation into Linda in his Ottawa workshop, December 21, 2010.  Linda has been married as a man for 40 years. He goes out twice a week as Linda and lives his life as a male otherwise.

And, the Sunday paper (Toronto Star had an article called “A Husband’s Inner Femme” – a story about how one couple is dealing with the husband’s need for feminine expression, going through the emergence of the problem, the negotiation and cooperative and constructive resolution. (Click the photo to read the article.)

One point of interest I gleaned out of the read was the way their expert psychiatrist compared a person’s male and female personas to the white and yolk of an egg.  Evidently, regular folks integrate the two, scrambling them up nicely while trans people keep them separate, as in male outside, female inside.

A very interesting metaphor.  Hmmm…  Food for thought.  Open-mouthed smile

Playing at Being a Boy

I’m a baaad girl sometimes.

Not in any nefarious sense, but I do like to play with people’s minds sometimes, even if it ends up that it is only playing with my own.Picture0310a

I spoke recently (here) about having to remember which gender I am at any given time, but sometimes I do remember quite well that I’m supposed to be a guy, but yet throw in some feminine gender cues on purpose just to see what reaction there might be.     

I don’t know if it is just passive Picture0317aaggressiveness, a secret desire to be discovered and end this double life, or just the mischievous person I have always been, looking for just a little bit of trouble…Picture0320a

I will sometimes answer the phone in Janie’s voice, and “clear my throat” and correct it only when the person on the other end expresses confusion as to whether they have reached the right number.Picture0318a

In video calls online, I’ll change my facial expressions and tone of voice and even hand gestures to my feminine ones and carefully watch the other person’s expression.  FYI, my (extremely perceptive) sister has never registered anything at all – nothing!  (Dammit!)

GF is getting worried that I am truly taking too many chances – going out more often, going out during the day, doing these things I described above, etc.   She is worried that I am trying to out us both.

I am not.Picture0323a

I am fully aware of the dire consequences that may befall us if I am ever discovered.  But, quite unlike my feelings when I started this – when that fear dominated my decision-making – I’ve become convinced that discovery is a much more remote possibility than I first thought, and that going out is much more important to me than it was at first. (I talked some about this recently in one of my Halloween posts.)

Picture0326aI have come to believe that no one is going to think I am a tgirl on the basis of a glimpse of me in a dress, no matter how much she looks like the guy they know; it just doesn’t register as a possibility to most people.  I would have to be caught dead-to-rights to be truly outed.  As long as I keep walking and don’t answer to my male name, the worst that’s going to happen is some wondering on their part, as in: “Is it possible?  Naah!”

Love to know other people’s feelings on this.  Am I being reckless?


Yesterday was a milestone of sorts for me in that my first ever guest post appeared, on T-Central (

For obvious reasons, I encourage you to read it. Winking smile  Here’s the link to my post:

As I mentioned there, T-Central is a wonderful effort put forth by Calie and her team, bringing together so many wonderful blogs and bloggers in one place.  It’s a great place to find many different points of view and experiences.

That said, I was surprised to see that the comments on this special “Crossdresser Experience” series of guest posts evidenced resistance by some transsexual posters to any assertions of genuine femininity by crossdressers – something I found disappointing, and frankly beyond comprehension (not so much the logic but the motivation). 

Put in perspective, these are a tiny minority of the readers, but the following bears saying anyway:  we are all sisters, often indistinguishable one from the other (in all but the most intimate contact) as to where on the TG  landscape we reside, even by educated, sensitive and observant people.  We ought to support and encourage each other, and stand together as a community.

If we do not accept each other and respect one another’s feelings and aspirations, how can we expect anyone else to do so?

I am hoping that after this recent series of guest posts by well-known CD bloggers, that our experiences and feelings will be better understood and appreciated both inside and outside the transgender world. 

And for that, again, we have Calie to thank.

Grrr… Enough with the Smiling


Take me as I am!  This girl doesn’t always smile.  Sometimes she can be sultry, sometimes she can be miserable… sometimes she can try to look sultry and end up looking miserable.  Oh, well!

Seriously, though, I’m in quite a pissy mood today… not sure why.  Probably just the end-of-year blues – thinking of what I wished I had been able to accomplish in 2010 and trying to set realistic yet ambitious expectations for 2011.

The years fly by faster as you get older, and 2010 was a complete blur. I had great hopes for 2010, but only managed to do a small part of what I’d planned.  And then it was over!

I’ll give myself time to wallow for a bit, and then I’ll brush myself off, renew my positive attitude and aim high again for next year.  If I don’t believe in myself, no one will…

…nope! …not ready for that optimism yet…  sometimes, being down is comfy and a bit therapeutic. 

Tomorrow will be better.

Christmas Pin-Up Series–Second Shot

On the second day of Christmas, Janie gave to you… another picture.  (Ok, not quite as lyrical as the song, but you get the point.) 


Christmas Pin-Ups

Over the next little while, I’ll be releasing some of my Christmas photos – the classier ones will be here and the racier ones will be on   So check back if you’re interested and see what I’ve been up to.  (Any ideas for new shots are appreciated…)

I do love having my picture taken these days – a far cry from my childhood days when I was terrified of the camera.  Seems that most of my t-friends share the same affection for the photographer’s lens.


Christmas Market

Following closely (like 15 years) behind Chicago’s Christkindlmarket, Toronto finally has its own – a much smaller affair, but in a nicer venue and with live music.

Oktoberfest sausage, beer, Christmas decorations, live reindeer and sparkling lights, yes… and another excuse to get out and about, right?

So, here are some piccies:


You’ve Come a Long Way, Baby!

(This is the first of what I hope will be more than a few guest posts written by my GF, Emily.)

I have come a long way since I first encountered Janie some four years ago. Of course, Janie has come a long way too. 

Although Janie was never hidden from me, and I learned about her at the same time as Janie did herself, I still went through many of the usual trials and tribulations most women go through on learning that her spouse is a crossdresser. Flash forward to the present and I don’t really even think of Janie as a crossdresser now, but rather I think of her as a unique person with many interesting sides, and someone I‘m lucky to share my life with. The best of all worlds in many respects. IMG_3314aWe have always been the best of friends in addition to lovers, but now I have not only a spouse, a lover, and a boyfriend, but a girlfriend too!

When we first starting going out in public I used to wear a wig, just like Janie did. I didn’t want to “out” us by having someone we know take a closer look at her after recognizing me. We were both pretty scared of being found out, especially me! With time and experience this fear has dissipated to a large extent. And, the irony is that we are now so much more recognizable! Janie no longer wears a wig (having grown out her hair in the past two years), and likewise, I have also stopped wearing a wig in public when I’m with her (unless just for fun).

Going out together now is no longer the anxiety-provoking experience it used to be, although walking in and out of our front door still causes me to hold my breath. However, despite all of this, I still don’t want us to be outed! That is why what happened the other day struck me as quite remarkable!

Janie and I went downtown to do some errands and I forgot to be scared walking out the front door with her to our car. Nor did I blink an eye later, when we got side-tracked for a couple of hours trying on shoes out in the open, and in a fairly central store at that. In fact, I only realized as we were walking back to the car to go home that I had not once had one of my usual thoughts or worries – what if we see someone we know and can’t avoid them, or worse, what if someone we know sees us and we don‘t see them! And, not once did I find my self looking around to see if anyone was staring at us.

However, I did notice a couple of men looking at Janie in the shoe store (but not staring with curious looks on their faces). Not a surprise really, as Janie was looking very hot in her jeans and a cream knit top, with one shoulder exposed as she leaned over to raise her pant leg to admire the sexy sandals she was trying on, showing off not only her beautifully pedicured red toes, but a shapely calf as well!

I’m still not ready to let our friends and family be privy to Janie, no matter how wonderful I think she is! I may have come a long way, from seeing her in that first pair of sexy pumps, to our first dinner out together as “girlfriends,” to now, but I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with the reactions (and judgments) of others just yet.

For now, Janie will have to remain my secret (I hope) new BFF!

How ‘Bout Them Cowboys?

Ok, this hasn’t been their year.  To cheer up all the poor suffering fans of “America’s Team” here’s a pictorial from one of their long-standing fans, me!  Hope you enjoy – click on the pics for larger versions as usual.




It’s funny how things work in reverse.

Just the other day, I was remarking about being almost universally perceived as female, even in guy mode.

Well, yesterday, I went shopping as Janie – maybe not full makeup, but lipstick and jewellery and girl clothes – and wouldn’t you know it, I am suddenly an interesting curiosity…IMG_8441a

The sales people at Charlotte Russe were lovely to me, and I spent hours trying on everything in the store… bought half the stuff too, including everything I’ wearing in the photo at left (‘cept the shoes)!

But, while I was sitting on a chair for a rest,  there was a youngish couple and their children who simply could not resist sneaking several “surreptitious” peaks at me without my noticing. 

…subtle as a hammer…

I also noticed a few others on the street double-checking what they thought they had seen. 

Now it may be that I am such a striking beauty that people can’t help but gawk, but I’m putting my money on “Seriously, is that a man wearing that dress?”

As I have remarked many times, I don’t really care, as long as no one is cruel to me.  In fact, I am perfectly happy shaking people up a bit.

And “passing” isn’t everything.  I’d much prefer to have someone “read” me and be attracted or fascinated by my special nature.

Wouldn’t you?

Girl is as Girl Does

Chicagoans see me as a girl, it seems.

I have yet to break out my girl clothes or makeup, I haven’t taken a razor to my faceIMG_8403b1 in almost a week, and yet I have been treated almost exclusively as female, whether in a restaurant, or trying on clothes in a department store, or on the street.

…and that suits me just fine!

Though I had no problem looking through the clothes in the women’s section of a certain department store, I really didn’t have the nerve to ask to be let into the women’s change rooms in my then state of appearance.  But the sales clerk who came by offering assistance referred to me as ma’am, so I thought I’d give it a shot. 

Obviously, people take a large part of their cue from the length of one’s hair, and the fact that my face is pretty much clear of any hair.

…that and the fact that I am trying on jewellery or skirts…

Seems that girl is as girl does.

As hard as it is to believe, it looks like if you behave as a girl, most people will assume you are one.

Thing is, I haven’t been trying to act female at all, and still, even in neutral contexts like restaurants I am still assumed to be female.

It has happened in front of my sister, which causes nothing more than a bit of teasing. It has happened in front of my GF, which is no problem. Not sure how comfy it’ll be when it happens in front of Mom or Dad or my buddies.IMG_8406a1

I’ll fall off that bridge when I get to it.

Meanwhile, I look at these episodes as an opportunity to make clear in front of those I might one day come out to that I am fine with being perceived as female. I am admitting nothing, but putting the concept into their consciousness nevertheless.

That said, today “stealth Janie” can take a break; the real thing is coming out to play.

I Don’t Want to Be Your Buddy

I was reading a recent blog post of a friend, relating her experience attending a football game and something she said just caught me as profound.

quotes1Finally, you can’t let out this deep roar when your team scores.  Unless you are real good with your voice, you can go my route and be enthusiastic with a "Yay"! I always thought all of this would be a detriment when I watched the game as a quotes1 - closegirl. It really isn’t and sometimes you will catch the eye of a guy who appreciates a knowledgeable female fan. I’m just careful not to know too much!

(The emphasis is mine…)

Now you may think this is a shockingly chauvinistic comment, dismissive of female capability, but as I took a breath, I realized it was nothing of the sort.  IMG_8482a

In fact, it is much more a comment on the way men often relate to women.

Like it or not – and politically correct or not – men generally want to be the experts; their ego is tied into it in some way.  Like all generalizations (another generalization), this is not true always, but it is true often.

As much as there may be a guy inside us who has strong feelings and opinions about football (among other things), and as much as we understand the appeal of the camaraderie, teasing and locking horns that come with friendly but competitive allegiances, we have to choose between those and being a girl.  At least I know I do.IMG_8413a1

I cannot use the full strength of my male voice to aggressively yell out support for the home side or antagonistic put-downs of the visitor;  I cannot let my blood boil at the referees; I cannot exchange punches in the shoulder or bear hugs.  I cannot even argue that I understand the game better than some guy does.

I cannot afford to relate to the world in that way, lest my feminine aura completely dissipate.

When a guy says something stupid or objectionable about football, his friend will just give him a shove or laugh it off.  This is male bonding.  It’s great if you’re a guy, but the last thing I want as Janie. 

I don’t want be one of their buddies. 

IMG_8498a1I’m sure a guy appreciates my interest in watching and not having to explain every little thing to me, but I know he would also love to explain his theories and analysis without being overruled.

I can do that because it is more important to me to be a girl than to be right about football… and because it will make him happy. 

I am not being disingenuous or playing dumb, but a tgirl has to suppress many male aspects of her existence – and this is just one more.  Maybe a genetic girl could pull off the delicate balancing act of being both woman and gridiron stud/drinking buddy, but that’s far too advanced for me.

[the image of me on the sidelines uses part of a great shot from – I hope they’re ok with it; of course, I will immediately remove it if there is any objection from them.]

Walk Like a Man

I am finding that the more time I spend as Jane, the more natural it becomes to act like her… and the more effort I have to make to “act” like a boy when I’m him.

As I have carved out parts of my masculinity to work on in my efforts to improve my femininity, I have had to remember to reinstate them when I go male.  It’s not that surprising when you think that my whole intention is to try to make my feminine manner as natural as possible.  Me

It pretty much had to happen.

So now, I have this very strange sensation of having to actually remember to act masculine…

For the time being, it’s still not that hard – in fact, as a girl, I still forget myself from time to time and revert back to my birth-gender tendencies.  But, the concern is that as I master my femininity, the effort to be authentically male will become ever greater.

My hope is that at some point, I will find that perfect spot between the genders, both being completely natural, but both being a choice that I must intentionally make.

Now that would be cool!

More Fall Color Photos–Gallery 2 of 2

The first gallery is here.  I decided that the sweater was just too warm and may not be altogether that flattering on my figure.  I think the shots without it are better, don’t you?

Click on any photo for the larger version.


Undercover Girl

Getting out of the house without being seen, or at least without outing myself is becoming a major problem in my life these days, as I start to go out regularly during the day.IMG_8401a

Today, I was wearing a high-waisted short teal blue denim skirt with sexy white stockings, a blousy white top and black riveted belt.  The look was completed with my lovely Calvin Klein high-heeled boots. 

The short, but exposed walk to my car in that outfit was bound to catch someone’s eye – after all, that’s part of the outfit’s appeal, isn’t it? Winking smile  IMG_8394a

Obviously, I had to do something about it.  Taking needless and foolish chances is something I really should avoid, and though I assume I have gotten away with it in the past – you can never be sure – nothing is to be gained by taking this particular risk.  (BTW, if I have been caught in the past, please would someone just tell me so that I don’t have to bother with this pretense!!)

Anyhoo, I don’t want to have to dress at some other location, and neither do I want to make a big production out of my concealment efforts, so today, I simply put on a long coat and pulled a pair of red loose-fitting boy pants over top of my boots and right up over my skirt.IMG_8405a

My intrepid disguise is pictured.IMG_8404a

I resent even having to do this much – and looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t even see the slightest trace of a guy – I thought I looked rather fetchingly feminine despite the disguise.

But, I guess the point is that you actually have to look – it doesn’t jump out at you the way a sexy skirt and heels might…

…good thing I took the precaution today, after all… as I walked out the door, there was a bunch of people gathered just next door.  They paid no heed, but it could have been different…

Fall Colors–Photoshoot Gallery 1 of 2

How I love the change of seasons – and living in a place where the changes are so profound!  Soon, the beautiful white snow will come and blanket the landscape in a saintly and pure monotone, but for now, nature is shining and putting out its most brilliant color show.

(As always – click on any image for a larger size.)



Note for those photographically inclined: I experimented with saturation levels and contrast – never quite got to perfection.  I think that part of the problem was the very bright sunlight which blew out some of the detail.

Vlog – Staying in Shape

Crossdressing Geezers

It is a peculiar irony that at the same time it gets to be the easiest to convincingly crossdress, many t-girls are hanging up their heels.

Making It Hard on Ourselves

Women and men look strikingly similar at a very young and very old ages, and yet, it is commonly during the time of life when it is most difficult to appear as a convincing version of the opposite sex that most tgirls are active.

I have heard from some of the sexiest girls, who vow not to persist past their “Best Before” date.  These are girls of my own ilk – in the sense that they are dressing for enjoyment and not out of a sense of need or psychological distress.What Kind of Girl Am I?

So, it got me thinking about my own all-too-rapidly increasing age… (I mean 27 is right around the corner! :P )

And, respectfully, I don’t feel that’ll be the appropriate decision for me.

Depends What You Get Out of It

I understand that some of us are all about turning heads and scandalizing society at large, and most delightfully, tourists from small parochial towns, typically from the Midwest…

…but, while I can still appreciate that kind of fun, being a girl has turned into something that I value for many reasons beyond the highly sexualized lark it was when I began.

The vast majority of the time, I dress to be feminine but not slutty or provocative; I dress to be attractive but not attention-grabbing.  I want to be taken seriously as a woman (ok, also, I want to be taken, as a woman – seriously! :D )  I want to be treated as a lady and romanced rather than seen as a sex object.  Usually. ;)

Of course, my dress and my demeanour have to say all that for me, and I hope that they do.

It will be no different, I imagine, when I get older.

I assume that just as my standards in terms of behavior and attractiveness for myself and my companions has changed since I was a teenager, so too will they change into senior citizenship.  As long as I am a vibrant and attractive individual within my cohort, why should I stop?

There are so many variables that it is a fool’s game to try to predict what I will do that far into the future.  But, the way I see my womanhood, I can’t see giving it up until I’m giving up just about everything else I love… hopefully only a very short time before the end of a very long and enjoyable existence.

… and let us say… Amen.

He Said She Said

Interesting comment from Kate in response to my post about how I was able to change from boy to girl on the fly, asking if the conversation between me and GF changes depending on my gender choice…  I wanted to flesh out my answer to her, because I thought the whole question deserved more than a couple of sentences in response.

Thanks, Kate, for focusing my mind on this.

The short answer is, unsatisfyingly, “a little.”

I am probably 80% the same person whether I am boy or girl, and the other 20% is mostly differentiated on the basis of how rather than what.  Against a Tree

I speak more softly and listen more carefully to people’s tone and emotion when I am a girl, and I am much more sensitive to my own tendency to be dogmatic or argumentative, which are failing for me as a guy but also distinctly un-feminine.

When it comes to talking about girly things, my guy side is not really interested except as an observer and lover of women.  To take a greater interest would be to turn on my feminine mind, which I can certainly do but prefer not to. 

Similarly, playing or watching sports inevitably involves conjuring up aggressive and competitive emotions that I have assigned to my male side.  Doing so as Janie creates some discord and trying to suppress it is inferior to just doing the whole thing as a guy.

I have made the point previously of trying, as much as possible, to keep my two halves distinct.  I prefer  feminine women and masculine men and generally am not in favor of mixing the traits up.

And so it is in my management of myself and my two gender identities.

Straddling the Gender Divide

Today, I had the pleasure of trying my hand at being a boy and then magically turning into a girl.

At the request of my GF, we went out for lunch and to the market as a couple; she played her usual part as the woman, I took the male part, since that’s all that was left ;)

But afterwards, we went to read the paper and chill at a cafe, and he didn’t make it.  Along the way – literally – he became a woman…

I prepared for this by bringing along one of Janie’s tops, and some lipstick.  That’s it.Jane Magically Appears

This morning, I got dressed in one of his pairs of jeans and a polo shirt, and wore Janie’s knee-high flat-heeled boots underneath.  I pulled my wild hair into a ponytail befitting a middle-aged guy who refuses to grow old. (That’s my self-deprecating story to all who question my hair length, anyway…)

When the time came for the transformation, I simply pulled out my ponytail and fluffed my hair, switched tops, tucked my jeans into my boots, and applied a touch of color to my lips.

Maybe even plainer than Plain Jane, but I’m satisfied.  It’s a magical pleasure to be able to match my appearance to my spirit at the snap of my fingers!

Is That A Costume You’re Wearing?

Oh, the irony… if you’re really scared to go out as a crossdresser, Halloween’s the one day you don’t have anything to fear… :D 

And, for weeks prior, Halloween is a perfect shopping cover and an excuse to try things on – or try the whole concept on…Getting to Know Each Other

Starting Out

When I first started being Janie, I was terrified on two fronts – not knowing how people would treat me, and being recognized by someone I knew.  It’s funny because in my wig and heavy makeup, there was no way anyone was going to recognize me even if we were standing face to face.  Plus, this is a pretty tolerant city, and sticking to safe neighborhoods meant the other fear was equally unfounded.  But we do tend to fear the unknown, right?Mmm.. Looks Good

On Halloween, everyone is dressed up, so people’s tolerance for strange-looking people, including men with bad makeup in dresses, is nearly absolute, and being recognized in drag wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow.  So, it’s a risk-free day on both counts.

But, hold on a sec… Did you ever stop to wonder why society gives men that free pass on Halloween?  …cuz it puzzles the heck out of me.Tongues

I mean, think about it – most men would never wear women’s clothes.  Period.  A man’s sexuality, macho hangups, and self-image do not take a break just because the ghouls are out.  Nope… I say, if you see a man in a dress on Halloween and he’s not a big ham, or actor/artist/frat-boy/joker-type, place your bets that he’s one of us, or at least bent that way.  

But, we’ll pretend we don’t know… ;) It’s all for the good…

Things Change As You Go

Like many others, as I become clearer in my feelings and more comfortable with my feminine persona, I have found myself estranged from the concept of Halloween as a safe haven.

With regular forays out in the world on any old day comes the freedom not to have to lean on Halloween in order to go out.  But, it goes well beyond that: going out is much too important to leave to Halloween. 

Janie is far too real and beloved a part of me to keep cooped up in the house. That’s a significant counterweight to the fear of being found out, and pushes me out the door on a regular basis in spite of the fear of being found out.

Also, Janie is far too real and beloved a part of me to be considered a costume.  Nope… if I am going out on Halloween, I’ll need a real costume – like Batgirl, or a Policewoman – or a freaky, purple-haired Goth Ghoul.

Claire Delilah Jane is no costume… she is me.

Photo Painting

Parties, Ho-hum

I would really love to go out to a party and have a blast, the way so many people seem to.  But, it just doesn’t seem to happen for me very often.

Unless I go in knowing a bunch of fun people, I’m pretty sure I’ll end up having a drink or two, wandering around, dancing some, and eventually leaving.

If people are meeting other people at bars and clubs, I cannot imagine how they get to know one another while screaming directly into one another’s ears over pounding music.Tranny on the Rocks

Vanilla – the party I wrote about in the past couple of posts – had lots of eye candy, both on stage and off, a large crowd, a strong representation from our trans community, bondage and flogging equipment galore, an open-minded crowd, food, drink, decent music.

I even ran into some friends, with whom I did my best to catch up.

But, I must be getting old, cuz come 2 AM I’d rather be home with my GF than trying to hear someone’s name over booming bass beats.

I feel like I’m missing something, so I’m looking for some better party strategies.  Anyone got any bright ideas?  (Or shall I get comfortable in my rocking chair?)

Party Pictorial

Here are some pics of me from Vanilla, Northbound Leather’s annual Fashion Show party.

Party Pose 1 Party Pose 2Enjoying a Hot Dog

Above, a couple of poses in at the party, and enjoying a hot dog ;) .

Below, I found a nice rock garden for some more shots:

On the Rocks 1 On the Rocks 2 On the Rocks 3

Party Pictorial – Fashion Show

As promised in my previous post, here are some piccies.  These are just the Fashion Show.  I’ll post the photos of me tomorrrow or the next day.

IMG_8051aIMG_8080a IMG_8078a IMG_8075aIMG_8077a IMG_8069a

The Un-Fantasia Fair

Since I have become interested in such things, the Northbound Leather Fashion Show has always taken place at the same time as Fantasia Fair.

This is the first year I have not been at Fantasia, and therefore my first opportunity to go to this huge fetish party! 

Billed as the largest Fetish Night in the world, this party is most decidedly un-Fantasia. 

Fantasia is an exclusively transgender event, quiet and mostly about learning, self-discovery and making new friends.  On the other hand, this party is loud, proud, a big crowd, and “Expect to be "Wowed!”  And, though it is inclusive, it is not specifically transgender.

The sponsor, Northbound Leather had a “Meet and Greet” last night at their flagship store, serving up drinks and food and a healthy dose of camaraderie, with the irrepressible co-owner, Anna, lighting up the room with her charm and energy.

I came away from the store with a smile, not to mention a fabulous new latex outfit.  And, I met a few people I expect to see again at the party, so not everyone will be a stranger. All in all, a fabulous social, community building and shopping experience! 


As I watched the stunning Porsche Carrera roll by, I glanced inside at the driver, who was, to no surprise at all, a guy mid 40s to mid 50s.


I guess dropping more than a hundred-thousand clams on a car is one way to stroke your masculinity and get a thrill in your pants in mid-life…

…but honestly…

wouldn’t he be so much happier (and richer) if he just started wearing dresses?

I know I’ve made my choice ;)

Big Easy

After a handful of days in Montreal, it suddenly dawned on me that I don’t have to go all the way to San Diego for a place to be free and easy and Janie. Middle of the Road

The realization came to me as I was walking down the street looking for a cafe for our Labor Day morning coffee and breakfast.  I’m out and about, wearing scarcely any makeup, in jeans and a t-shirt, and I am as comfortable as can be.  No one looks at me strangely; no one bothers me.  I am treated with respect and courtesy… 

…and it’s such an easy feeling that I hardly noticed!

I didn’t really care this morning whether I went out as boy or girl, but decided on girl because I had a more comfortable outfit at hand.Pizza at 3AM

And, that’s the crux – whichever – didn’t matter.

This got me thinking about the weekend…

Whether it was getting pizza at 3:00am wearing a fur-trimmed PVC leotard and thigh-high boots, walking the downtown streets in a bright red latex dress and 5-inch heels or strolling down rue St. Denis in jeans and a t-Escalating shirt, I was completely at ease, and felt totally welcome and accepted.

People addressed me in the feminine, even when they knew otherwise, gentlemen stopped on the street to offer directions when I was looking at a map… it was all so normal!

Bravo, Montreal!

Past Passing

As I was walking around town the other day, I’d take an interest from time to time in whether people noticed that I was not a genetic girl.

Trying to be subtle, I could only guess, but I do believe some people “made” me, though no one said or did anything overt.  It is possible it was entirely in my mind.

More interesting, however, was that I started to realize that seeing how well I passed was more of a sport than anything to me; I didn’t really care.  IMG_7906-1a

I mean, to the extent that being read as trans causes danger, of course I would be happy to go unnoticed.

But in the larger context of my objectives, the unavoidable truth is that I would very much rather come off as attractive than authentic.

That is to say that I would hope that I’d get my share of people who would look at me and see an attractive creature.  And, so much the better if they then think to themselves, “But is that a girl, or not?”

I take a certain amount of glee in the idea that I might shake a few people up inside, wondering why they were drawn to me and what that meant about themselves – guys and gals alike.

I have come to believe that we t-girls are a unique group with our own special beauty and sexuality.  We do have the option to celebrate and revel in it, rather than desperately trying to hide it, y’know.

Perhaps that is worth remembering before we mess with our bodies’ chemistry through hormones, or our bodies’ structure through surgery, in an uphill battle to try to convince others, if not ourselves, that we are real women.

It is an often futile struggle to achieve a goal that exists only because we created it, and speaks directly against self-acceptance.  Added to that, setting unachievable goals is a recipe for feeling always like a failure – so it’s self-destructive too.

All this is intensely personal, I know.  But that’s my take.  I’d love to hear other opinions.

Stuck Being Me

It was upon looking at some older pictures of myself that a distressing thought occurred to me… and often, as now, these thoughts become the subject of a blog post…

I fear that since I have become more womanly and authentic, I have also become a lot more… well, BORING!

Oh, don’t deny it!  IMGP0296a

Was a time, I’d wear pink hair and 6-inch heels…

…maybe a caricature, but certainly better for the amusement of others than what I am becoming – which is a fairly regular t066jagirl.  When one is counting on the attention of her viewers and readers, it is not by any means a given that “normal’ is a good thing.

Nowadays, my sensibilities have run towards sexy but realistic clothes rather than outrageous and impossible outfits (some of which admittedly I have never been willing to share anyways).

Since I go out a lot more, I have to wear shoes that I can actually get around in.  Ho hum…IMG_3329a

And, worst of all, my hair… I have grown out my hair and I do love my playful reddish curls, styling my hair and above all, not having to wear an awful, artificial, overly hot and uncomfortable, worried-it’s-gonna-fall-off (or at least turn askew) wig!   

But, this means I can’t change my hair color or length or style from one day to the next.  And, my real hair is so thick and voluminous that it’s no picnic trying to stuff it all into a wig, even just for a photo shoot.  IMG_3327a

And that limits my ability to provide completely different looks and personalities.

So, I’m stuck just being me…

…pretty soon, I’ll just want to kick off my heels, and curl up my pretty little feet under my tight little bottom on the couch with a good book and a glass of wine…

…and no one will ever want to hear from me again…

Viva Las Vegas TGirl Style!

Ok, fans and fanettes! 

Wildside went to Vegas last week and had a blast!  A week later, everyone’s still in recovery mode!

My head is still spinning, and all the massive and continuous stimulation over 7 of the shortest days in my life is still sinking in!

As I have said elsewhere, I’m a happy, happy girl, tired, warm and aglow in the aura of the sinfully fun memories and precious friendships that bless my life now and into the future!

There is some magic in a group that gets along so well, where everyone supports and loves each other, and which has a blow-out blast every day it is together!

Love to everyone who was there!

And, I leave you today with the big one – the Wildside slideshow with most of what I consider to be the best pics.  Enjoy!


Portraits from Wildside Vegas

I collected a bunch of photos that are essentially portraits of the Wildside girls.  I think it worked really well with the music.

We are beautiful after all, aren’t we?

Viva Fun

I cannot believe how much fun we had!  …all the usual Vegas vices, ‘cept, interestingly, much gambling!  This is a group that loves one another and knows how to enjoy itself.  Want proof? Watch:  (sorry if it’s a bit Janie-centric at the beginning).


Back to Reality

As much as I enjoyed my first Viva Wildside Sin City Soiree, this one blows that experience a mile out of the water!

I am a bit shy, and it takes a bit for me to open up to people.  Last year, I met a bunch of strangers who turned into sweet friends.  This year, I walked into a room of friends and left with real and much deeper connections.

I imagine this experience just gets better – richer – every year…

As with many of my ilk, it is hard for me to find friends with whom to share the wonderful experience of being Janie.  I spend the year relatively alone in that respect, for the most part.

But, walking into the Viva Suite, I am instantly surrounded by people I have now come to love!  I have seven days to revel in their warmth and humor, optimism and energy, incredible generosity and caring, and I try to give at least as much love as I receive.

We come from all over the continent, and sometimes even further, and it is amazing to see how everyone seems to just become part of this supportive, loving group of partying, fun girls.

It may look like it’s all about the dancing and drinking and flirting and more… but every girl will tell you that all those are secondary to the sincere caring that goes on, following on the example of our fearless leaders, Gina and Nikki.

It is something to behold… a spiritual experience!  Look at the faces in the pictures and you will see what I mean…


Life as a VIP

Friday night was our chance to live it up.  A local gay club – for a fee – treats us like royalty.  We get the total VIP treatment, which means a quick escortIMG_4270a upstairs to the private rooms with bottle service and a view of the dancefloor.IMG_4278b

By this time in the week, the girls have gotten very friendly with one another, and this is the perfect venue to let it all hang out.

Some, by turn, go downstairs and dance among the sweaty, half-naked gay boys, some take their place in one IMG_4230aof the rooms, drink in hand, and interact with those who come by, while others prowl around the suites, seeking conversation and flirtation.IMG_4295b

And, as always, pictures, pictures, pictures.

We inevitably close the place down and are asked politely to leave so the staff can, mercifully, go home…

…but that’s never the end of it, so thank goodness the casinos never close. 

We finally end the night with a bite to eat in the company of good friends… and, punchy as we all were, there was more laughter than food!

Added Pics to Recent Post

For those of you who enjoy pictures – and for those of you for whom pictures enhance the reading experience – I have added several photos to my post That Hot’n’Bothered Feeling in Lingerie that you may wish to go back and see.

I was anxious to get the story out as the days’ events started to tumble one upon the other and I didn’t want to be too far out of date, but I didn’t have the pictures I wanted, residing as they were on friends’ cameras.

So, I decided to post without the photos, and have now added them.

That Warm Fuzzy Feeling in Lingerie

What a difference a year makes!

Last year, I was just getting to know everyone, and the idea of prancing around in a sexy teddy was quite intimidating for me.  Nonetheless, I sucked it up and my concerns turned out to be much ado about nothing.

I had a very nice time, though I must admit I was fortified then by several pretty strong margaritas.  When the picture-taking began in earnest, I waited for an invitation before climbing on the bed where all the posing and flashing (by both camera and model alike) was going on.

I posted plenty of photos last year.  (Click here to have a look.)

This year, I was among friends.

Until now, we’ve interacted in little groups here and there (excepting the one dinner), but the Lingerie Party was the first big event, where everyone would be together, unrestricted by a seating arrangement at a long table – free to move about and talk with everyone at their pleasure.

Also, there was an open bar…

It hit me pretty quickly, how many “close friends” I had made over the course of the last year – at the last soiree and then online. 

I don’t tend to call acquaintances “friends,” much less add modifiers that make even more of the relationship, but I truly had the warm feeling of walking into a room full of people who cared about me and to whom I mattered.  (And being warm wearing as little as I was, was no small thing.)

I may sound like a blubbering and sentimental fool, but to actually see a person’s face light up at the sight of me is one of the more special feelings I can get.  And there was just so much of that going on everywhere I looked.  And, of course, their smiles were reciprocated by me from the bottom of my heart.

I was like a kid in a candy store, not knowing which way to turn.  My tendencies run toward the loner – or at least a one-on-one type person, so juggling the attention of several people, all of whom I desperately wanted to hang out with and enjoy, was an overwhelming and, of course, impossible task.

…but a happy problem to have…


Danced my feet off at Revolution Lounge, despite the best efforts of the self-indulgent dj. Love these gals!

No, no, no!

Under the general heading of “Pot Calling Kettle” or “Let She Who is Without Sin…” I am putting my high-heeled foot down after seeing the abomination that is called “The Girlfriend Look.”IMG_5504

H&M, of which I am a loyal and enthusiastic customer, issued one of their fashion magazines a month or so ago containing the page pictured at right.

I would have thought that just seeing the photos would have been enough for most everyone to agree that this was an idea whose time will never come…

But, I was wrong, sadly. 

After all, the folks at H&M did actually issue it, and I guess fashion designers will have their little laugh and women will have their revenge…

Just don’t come crying to me when you can’t find a masculine man when you want one.

I know, I know, I know…

I realize that the transgender community must welcome this sort of blurring of gender lines, and as a creature who comprises both genders, I might be expected to toe that line.Cristiano-Ronaldo-Wears-Matching-Clutch-Purse-2

But I don’t.

Sure, men wearing feminine clothes in this way is about as close to mainstream-sanctioned cross-dressing as I’ve seen. 

But, for me, cross-dressing has never been about being a guy in women’s clothes.marc-jacobs-kilt  Rather, it is about being a feminine spirit with a male body dressing (and behaving) according to spirit rather than physique.

When I am in male-mode, I would never be caught dead in those clothes, or wearing a purse. 

And, when I’m in girl-mode, I would never give a guy like that the time of day… doesn’t do a thing for me! 

There is an exception…

A guy who is physically beautiful, maybe even pretty, who wears his hair in a somewhat feminine way and dresses to a certain, somewhat feminine aesthetic (even putting on makeup) while never trying toBoy disguise the fact he is male… ooohh, that can be very sexy! (In  the same vein, a beautiful woman with a boyish figure, who has her hair cut short and dresses to a somewhat male aesthetic, comesExif_JPEG_PICTURE                                              pretty close to the same result for me.)

I think the sexiness there comes from a certain honest androgyny.  These are special people who have been, dare I say, blessed, with a happy mix of both genders to a rare and special effect, quite unlike a deep-voiced, broad-shouldered, bearded and hairy man in leggings and a tank top, carrying a purse.


Real Man

I know there’s no such thing as a pure masculine or pure feminine creature, and the traits of one gender tend to enhance and moderate the other.  But for me, it is the differences between the genders that generally provide the attraction.  

This is not about sexual orientation, but gender identification.

…and, it’s just my personal taste…

Everyone has their concept of “too far.”  Mine is the “Girlfriend Look.”

Blast from the Past!

I spent the most wonderful weekend in Las Vegas at a rockabilly festival, dancing, listening to rock’n’roll legends, watching jive dance contests, admiring all the hipsters in their fabulous outfits and retro hairdos, going to a tiki pool party, seeing those incredible old cars, and buying swanky clothes…

…just having a blast with great, fun people and phenomenal music!

My girlfriend really wanted to share this experience with me as a boy – and it made a lot of sense to me too – we could dance together and get into the vibe of a bygone time, and meet all these people without having the TG thing in the way.

The one torture I had to endure was going through the vendor area and desperately wanting to try on those fabulous 40s, 50s and 60s dresses! 

The closest I got was having her try them on and vicariously enjoying them through her…  Not entirely altruistic was I since we often share the same size, and I will try on every one that we bought, in due course!

And, fate was smiling on me…

In one booth, there was a pair of black and white peekie-toe patent pumps, really cheap, and ONLY in MY size!  GF was kind enough to let me surreptitiously try them on, and I’m happy to say, they now occupy their rightful place in my closet!

Aphrodite’s Feast

The regular monthly kinky night at the club was replaced this month by their annual fundraiser for their fundraiser.  Huh?


Well, they put on a 3-day extravaganza in May called Kinkalicious, and need the money to do that so…  Aphrodite’s Feast.

Kinkalicious is a fundraiser for Victim Services, a non-profit charitable organization dedicated to helping victims of crime and/or sudden tragic circumstance, focusing on restoring and enhancing victims’ quality of life and preventing re-victimization.

A worthy cause, and we were glad to be able to contribute to our own enjoyment as part of the process.

Ancient Civilizations

The theme was “ancient civilizations” and almost everyone was in costume – the reduced admission fee providing incentive to those not sufficiently motivated by the fun of it all.

I went as some mashup of civilizations, a Roman girl who couldn’t find a garland so instead topped her outfit off with a Viking helmet – all to pretty cute effect, I hope.

Aside from the usual sexual shenanigans that go on, entertainment was provided by several performers – a sultry singer, a stripping fire-eater, and belly-dancers. 

Shimmering Beauty

I’ve never paid much heed to belly-dancing, but when the featured girl came out, her curvaceous and supply body adorned in a gilded bikini and bejewelled harem outfit, her face, the face of a goddess… well, I took note. 

I watched, hypnotized as she gracefully undulated and floated about the stage, creating beauty as she went, twirling around a gossamer red silken swath of fabric, the color setting off her golden costume nicely.

What struck me was her ability to control and move her hips, pelvis and torso – not so much because of how sexy it was – and it was! – but because it was so utterly outside my ability to do so.

I spoke with her about it later, and she confirmed that it is an activity that makes you so much more aware of the muscles and movements that are possible in that area. 

I’m thinking that if I learn this art – even just a little bit – not only it will improve my physical health and flexibility, but it will make me so much more able to control my movements and give me the tools to be a more graceful and feminine being. 

So, off I go to investigate! Bye for now…

P.S.  I’d love to know your thoughts on belly-dancing and feminine grace.  Don’t be shy!

Sweet Dreams for Valentine’s Day

Wishing you all a sexy, loving Valentine’s Day.  Now, I’m going to snuggle with my sweetie!

Can’t Teach a Young Dawg

I moved this post over to NaughtyCDJanie cuz I figured it might be a bit risqué for this blog.  Just one click, and you’re there.  Sorry for the inconvenience.

Vanity is in the Eye of the Beholder

Having commented on a friend’s recent post on this subject, and gotten a bit carried away in my response (with apologies to her), I figured the proper place for my long-winded thoughts should be on my own blog, and here it is.

Walk a Mile in Someone Else’s Shoes -  It’s Uncomfortable

We t-girls, coming to femininity as men, are psychologically unprepared for the exponentially greater fuss we must make about our appearance.  Oftentimes, it ends up feeling vain and overdone to us.

Can’t You Just Throw Something On?

Real women spend a great deal of time primping and preening – often to the chagrin of their endlessly waiting partners.  By the time they are ready to go out, they have changed clothes several times, agonized over which earrings are best, hair up or down? oh, these hose just aren’t right… and left a holy mess in their wake in their “rush” to get ready.

It all never made sense to me as a guy, but I have clued in since then…

A Look Inside the Lady’s Dressing Room

It turns out that a black skirt is not a black skirt… they are narrow… or short… or too short… or heavy… or light… or high-waisted… or flared… and they just won’t go with those pair of black shoes that are either too high… or low… or funky… or make my legs look

dumpy or whatever with that skirt… Or maybe, it was just the wrong hose… too opaque… too sheer… pantyhose or stockings?  stay-ups or garters?  And that top… too much cleavage… or a bit frumpy?  or too long, maybe… and we haven’t even started on the jewellery…

By the time I’m done, half my wardrobe is in a heap on the floor and I am climbing over it as I affix my heeled pumps to my feet on the way out the door.  (Which purse am I taking?)

And, we haven’t even discussed makeup… smoky eyes, subtle eyes… oops, I made a mistake… damn! my hair just will not behave!  and oh, that shade of lipstick makes me look like a hooker… or maybe, it’s just this top…

Harder For Us

Genetic girls have put up with this throughout their lives and so, for them, it has always been this way and it is what they need to do to be properly groomed.  Guys throw on pants, shirt, jacket, socks and shoes and they’re done.  It’s quite a change to now start fussing, I know. 

And whatever women have to do, and however long it takes them with all their experience, here we are – novices – and our task is so much more difficult, having to disguise our masculinity on top of everything else.

Undercover Angel

When women fuss and worry about their looks, it is only whether they look a little better or worse – call it vanity if you wish.  But for us – or at least me – I’m not so much worried that people won’t think I’m beautiful, as that they won’t think I’m a girl at all!  The only bar I need to clear is the one where people think of me and refer to me as “she.”

Trouble is, when you’re a guy inside that makeup and dress, if you aren’t pretty, well, you’re busted!

So, what may look and feel like vanity is, for me, survival.

I suppose if you’re at an age where the sexes seem to converge in appearance (usually either teenage on one side or senior on the other), or can and do look like someone’s aunt, you can pass much more easily.  But, none of those applies to me.

The Woman Inside

I will admit that internally, I need to feel beautiful, and to think that I make an attractive female.  I will not be an ugly or mannish girl; I would sooner stop the whole thing. Unlike a genetic woman who has to accept any limitations she may have in terms of her appearance, I do not… at least not as a woman. I do this for my pleasure, so if it ends up weighing on my self-esteem when I look in the mirror, it is not productive for me to continue it.

External Validation

Beyond the obsession with our looks, t-girls do tend to seek out and hope for external praise.  But again, I’m going to give us all a pass on any negative connotation that may hold.

I believe that we seek out external praise largely because we don’t have confidence in our own perspective – and wisely so. In my case, I recognize that what a GG has learned over her lifetime about herself and her place in the world will not be assimilated by me in less time, if ever. So external praise is as much perspective as it is vanity.

The other part of perspective comes from seeing others in our community, and what they are doing and wearing and what was the reaction to them.  Those among us who go out and test the waters and report back do the rest of us a great service in learning about ourselves and the world around us and our place in it.

Pole Dancing

Continuing from my last post, the lap-dancing portion was just about done.

All that was left was to climb away from the chair and slowly squat before the seated phantom man, then one leg at a time, onto the knees, then performing what apparently is an all-purpose move, undulating your hips in the all-fours position, almost bouncing them up and down.  I absolutely could not master this relatively simple movement (misplaced hips again, I’d say, and maybe some lack of coordination), but it did look hot on the others. 

Then over onto one side.

Floor Routine

Lying on the floor, the lower leg bent at 90 degrees flat on the floor, the other similarly bent, foot standing on the floor, knee pointed to the ceiling, heels touching each other.  Now, we rotate the upper knee down to the lower and back up, opening and closing what they call “the oyster.”

Then, from the open position, grasping your ankle, straightening the upper leg so that the tip of the shoe points skyward, all the while trying to smile as if this was not uncomfortable.

Returning to the oyster position, then over onto the knees, facing away from him, leaning way back and letting your hair fall, swirling it around a bit, then arching your back up into an upright position, slowly getting up and walking away, looking back over your shoulder, our phantom man must have been quite primed…

Now onto the pole…

Right hand up, left hand across, left leg bent around the pole… lean towards the leg and whoosh!  …you spin around the pole and gracefully land on your feet.  Not as simple as it looks, but with just a little practice it looks pretty good. 

Right hand up, left hand across, right leg bent backwards around the pole (knee in front)… same drill… whoosh!  even easier, and more impressive, but requires a bit more faith in your strength.

Got That?  Try This!

Finally, a short routine… with the pole to your left, hold it with an outstretched left hand, and wrap your left ankle around it, keeping your knee high.  Now, do the body wave – hard enough on two legs my dear – and then lean away from the pole, limp, hair falling towards the floor… now bring your head in a large circle, down towards the pole, up and around and back to the starting position, whipping it as best you can (without banging your head into the pole)… then, gracefully take your foot away from the pole, keeping it in the air, and extend it straight out in front of you, still holding the pole for balance…  now swing it all the

way back, so that it is pointing straight back and your head and torso are pointing straight down to the floor…  then, arch your back and make eye contact, and slowly return to a standing position.

Everyone got a turn trying these moves, and then the class was over.  I learned that my back is pretty stiff and my hips need to be loosened up if I’m going to be able to do this stuff, so that’s on the To Do List.

Work That Body!

After an hour or so at the bar, relaxing, talking and having a drink, I went back to the pole.  No one was around, so I went at it pretty hard for a good half hour, practicing all the moves we were taught, both pole dancing and lap dancing.  The music was good, so I also danced alone, almost for a rest between the other moves.

I tell you, by the end I was spent.  What a workout!  I’m going to look into getting a pole for myself.  That way, I can get fit and sexy at the same time…


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