------- //-------- WORLD OF CROSSDRESSING: November 2014


Tuesday, November 25, 2014

World Of Crossdressing Present Tomboy And Tomgirls For Specials

tomgirl worldofcrossdress

tomgirl worldofcrossdress

tomgirl worldofcrossdress

tomgirl worldofcrossdress

tomgirl worldofcrossdress

tomgirl worldofcrossdress

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Hereditary Crossdressing in family as a part

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Saturday, November 1, 2014

Celeb Insta-World: Make Way For The Style Queens!

From glam-rock to retro-fabulous, Hollywood glamour to edgy sartorialism, this week the FashionTV style panel have selected our top celebrity style queens of the week; featuring Miley Cyrus, Solange Knowles, Rihanna, and more!

She took the hot seat on the front row at Marchesa’s NYFW Fall 2013-14 show, and we can see why, as Miley Cyrus’ style has gone punk-chic fabulous! Mixing elegant rompers with leather jackets, and not to mention her peroxide hair-do.... which we’re totally feeling... Cyrus has upped the style stakes big time!

Another lady forefronting the fashion game is none other than Beyonce’s little sis, Solange Knowles who manages to take looks straight off the runway and give them her signature retro twist, check out the sisters’ hot looks in the gallery below.

Meanwhile, as we all know, little miss Kate Upton has made it from swimwear babe to the front of two Vogue covers in the last year and recently landed a shoe campaign with high fashion brand Sam Edelman. But there’s something ever so Hollywood glamour about the 20-year-old model when she puts on an elegant frock!

And where there is fashion, there is British presenter-come-model-turned-fashion editor Alexa Chung! Earlier this week Chung was covering the Grammys and true to her stylish self arrived on the red carpet in a flaring Fifties Valentino floral dress! Check out our style queens looks below:




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A Look Back at Ten Years in Five Inch Heels : The New Millennium

As the first decade of the new millennium draws to a close, I can’t help but look back over the past 10 years at the important role my cross dressing has played in my life. You see, it was exactly ten years ago that I started dressing, so my dressing life parallels the timeline of the new millennium perfectly. (Or, imperfectly, as much of my life seems to go.)

What follows is my journey through the 2000 decade. And my journey through t-world. That’s actually one of the drawbacks of writing this blog. I originally set out to talk about the tgirl experience, but the truth is, I really only know one tgirl’s experience. Mine. I’m sure at times my writing has seemed more than a little self-indulgent. And I’m sorry for that. I think it’s one of the hazards of writing a blog. 

But I can tell you this. Everything I do as CiCi. Everything I experience. Everything I aspire to. And everything I write. Is somehow colored and shaped by the many amazing tgirls I’ve met, corresponded with, chatted with, partied with, and, yes, slept with. It’s been a pretty amazing 10 years. New millennium? OMFG. For me, I don’t think it could possibly be more different than the previous one!

So here’s my 10 years. And please… there’s a comment section below. Use it! This is supposed to be an interactive forum. Tell us all about your decade. Or your year. Or the special moment you had in a chat room last week. It’s your chance to be self-indulgent. (And what self-respecting tgirl could pass that up?)

In 1999, my wife left me. There was a lot of tension in our house between me and my stepson, and by 1999 – our fifth year of marriage and our seventh year together – my wife had had enough. So I reluctantly went off to live by myself. The happy ending to this story is that my wife and I reconciled and moved back together after a year or so… but I didn’t know that then. And that time alone was pretty important to me, and to the tgirl that would some day become CiCi.

It’s kind of weird to look back and remember what life was really like 10 years ago. I’m going to sound like someone’s elderly grandma here, but, geez, it’s amazing how things change. In 2000, there was no 
Facebook, MySpace, or YouTube. Google was a nonsense word. Most of us had never heard of LeBron James, Barack Obama, or Al Qaeda. Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga had each just written their first songs. (Of course, they were only aged 10 and 13 at the time!) And I had no idea that I was transgendered.

I was pretty lonely when my wife left me. I live in California, but most of my family and my closest friends live back East. 3,000 miles away. I didn’t know much about computers at the time. But I logged on to the internet and spent some time surfing around. My fem side was all very vague and blurry to me. At the time I was more into bdsm, so when I logged on, I started checking out bondage sites. The bdsm world was pretty scary and intimidating to me, but I loved the fetishy outfits… the 
leather corsets and latex. The shiny pvc.

I remember being struck by all the amateurs I was seeing. Up until then, any bdsm or porn that you saw involved professional performers. Porn stars. Pro dommes. People who had chosen to make a living in that world. But now, with the internet, anyone could post photos or blogs or stories of their personal activities. And I was struck by how many people not only shared their 
cross dressing photos, but shared my strange (and somewhat kinky) cravings.

It was not long after discovering bdsm sites that I started to see trans gender imagery. (And when I say, “not long,” I mean about 10 minutes.) I found myself very drawn to that world. I was familiar with drag queens of course, and I knew a little bit about trans sexuals. But what I was seeing now was different. I was seeing part-time girls. Cross dressers. Sissies. Total amateurs who wanted to show off a new dress, some skimpy 
lingerie for men, or a hot new pair of shoes. And it really affected me. I remember looking at a photo of one cute L.A. girl out at a nightclub – and I thought, I could do that.

Now, to be honest, I have no idea why I thought “I could do that.” I mean, I’m not even sure I knew what “that” was. But I was alone. And lonely. A little bitter. And I had a lot of free time on my hands. So I went to K-Mart. 

I know that probably sounds odd. But I had no idea where to shop for women’s clothes. I bought the biggest knee boots I could find (size 11) and some heavily discounted, post-holiday, bright red Valentine’s lingerie (so this must have been late February 2000). The boots fit (barely). The lingerie did not. But I certainly enjoyed walking around my empty rented house in those boots. There were not a lot of stores like
 Suddenly Fem around at that time. Today's selection is much more varied and exciting.

I soon added some pvc stuff from the local lingerie/adult toy store. And a 
wig for men from a nearby costume shop. I experimented with some make up and voila. Suddenly, I was a cross dresser. Not particularly attractive. Not particularly feminine. But a full-fledged dresser just the same. And it only took a few months of solitude -- and 40 years of pent up desires – to achieve it! 

It wasn’t long after I started dressing that I got caught. My wife stopped by for some reason. Unannounced. She was in the area. And I was all dressed. My car was in the driveway. I couldn’t hide. I couldn’t ignore her knocking on the door. So I had no choice. I yelled, “Come in.” And she did. I wouldn’t say that my wife was shocked. Surprised, yes. But definitely not shocked. We had always been a pretty open couple and, when we first started dating, we’d gone together to several alt clubs and fetish events in L.A. So she knew I had a kinky side. And, unbeknownst to me, she had always suspected that I had a feminine side. 

Many people have asked me about my wife and our relationship. I know that many tgirls struggle with their wives and girlfriends. Should I tell her about my dressing? And if so, when? And if I don’t have a girlfriend, how can I find one? Where do I find a girl who will understand my desire to dress? The honest truth is, I have no idea how to answer that question. All I can say is that you should definitely avoid anyone opposed to the idea of your dressing. Because your desire will probably never go away. Chances are it will grow stronger. And that will only lead to hard feelings between you and your partner. 

So I can tell you what to avoid. But unfortunately, I can’t tell you what to look for. I didn’t look for a wife who was open to my cross dressing. I honestly didn’t know about my desire to dress when I first met my wife. But I did know that I wasn’t “normal” when it came to sex and fetishes. So I was looking for someone who would be open to unconventional behavior. And, my wife was definitely that.

Any way, she proved to be very supportive. And truly understanding. And, by 2001, we had decided to reconcile. Apparently, to her, my dressing was not a deterrent. She knew all about me by that point. My stepson decided to go live with his Dad, so my wife and I moved into a new place together. 

I really can’t say enough about my wife and what she has meant to my development as CiCi. (I could also go on and on about what she has meant to me in other areas of my life as well, but this is a blog about cd life, so I’ll try to keep it on topic.) I know all too well how difficult this life can be. TV/CD folks have a tough time finding acceptance. And it hurts the most when you can’t find acceptance in your own home. It’s then that you have to resort to secretive behavior. Hiding your clothes. Hiding your online activities. Hiding your most intimate desires. It’s not a great way to live.

I’ve been lucky that way. I was accepted. And I know what would have happened if she hadn’t been so accepting. I would have stopped. I mean, I probably wouldn’t have stopped entirely. I probably would have kept chatting online. But I probably would have stopped buying clothes. And I’m sure I never would have gone out.

Not too long ago, I asked my wife about those early days. What she thought of me. What she thought of cross dressing in general. And she said something that really blew me away. She said, “I accepted before I understood.” 

Now you can read all of Shakespeare, Wordsworth and Danielle Steel. You can watch every Nora Ephron or Richard Curtis romantic comedy ever made. You can check Wikipedia, Webster’s and the World Book Encyclopedia, but I doubt you’ll ever come across a better definition of love. “I accepted before I understood.” 

That’s my wife.

I went out a few times in the early 2000’s. Both times I was accompanied by my wife. And both times, I really didn’t talk to anyone. At that point, I’d chatted a bit online, but I really didn’t have any friends in the scene. So when we went out, everyone was a stranger. My wife is much more outgoing than me. (Plus I was terrified.) So she chatted with a few people. But I mostly sat in the corner and nursed a drink… and marveled at the girls around me.

And I really did marvel. (And I really was scared.) So the sight of those girls around me… laughing, drinking, dancing, making out in the corners… was astounding to me. I was amazed at their confidence. Their boldness. Their lack of shame. Yet, ironically, I was too ashamed to even approach them. It’s an odd feeling. To be in a tgirl club and to feel like you belong there… and yet to feel like you don’t belong at all. That you’re not one of them. It’s both intimidating and inspiring at the same time. You want to be like them… these amazing girls that you don’t dare talk to.

I want to pause here to say something about the girls I saw. They weren’t all beautiful. I say this because I think there are a lot of girls out there who think you have to be stunningly beautiful or totally passable to go out. But you don’t. We all like to look our best of course, but the girls I saw at the club (LA’s legendary Queen Mary, now sadly closed), came in all shapes and sizes. They were all at different levels of progression in their feminization. Some were very skilled with their 
cross dressing makeup. Some were pretty bad. Some dressed with style. Some most decidedly did not. My point is, I wasn’t intimidated by their looks. I was intimidated by their attitude. Their boldness. I was intimidated by the fact that they felt free to express themselves openly and honestly.

Think about it. Think about your personal life. Your vanilla life. Your professional life. Is there anything more intimidating than self-confidence? Than true honesty? 

I was petrified.

I’d like to say that these experiences set me on my way to a whole new life as a confident, carefree, out-of-the-closet cross dresser. But the exact opposite happened. My stepson came back to live with us. He never found out about my dressing. But I didn’t want to take any chances. I didn’t want to risk adding any more drama to an already tense household. So I threw away all my clothes.

Yup. I purged. Where I live we actually have a dump. So I took three large garbage bags full of 
cross dressing clothing, fetish attire, and bdsm toys… and I threw them in a landfill. Probably a few thousand dollars worth. (Sigh.) 
Purging is a pretty common thing among tgirls. I know many who have purged several times. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably purged once or twice yourself. T-life can definitely be a roller coaster ride. Full of ups and downs. You often find yourself in an emotional place where everything feels good and you feel confident. And then a few years (months, days?) later, everything changes. Maybe you lose your job or miss out on a promotion. Maybe your kid says something. Maybe your wife says something. The reasons to purge are numerous. But almost every person I know who’s ever purged has regretted it. I’m not sure what the alternative is… perhaps to put your “gear” in storage? All I know is that most girls some how come back to dressing. The urges are too strong. And once you’ve started dressing -- once you’ve let the genie out of the bottle -- it’s really hard to cram her back in.

So I spent a few years in the mid-2000’s in total boy mode. Sure, I chatted online every so often. But, with an active teen in the house, I didn’t have much privacy. So CiCi shut down. That lasted about two years, then my stepson left for college. And CiCi came back… with a strong desire to go even further as a girl.

By this point, I had a much better computer. This was important because I could finally keep up with the discussions in the tg/cd chat rooms. As I said, before this, I really knew no one in the trans community. And with a slow computer it was nearly impossible to keep up with the multiple, overlapping conversations going on in a chat room. So the new computer helped. I met a few friendly L.A. girls through the alt.com 
trans gender chat… and they invited me out. I also met a fetish photographer who offered to take some pro photos of me. This was in 2007. And those two events changed my life forever.

I did the photo shoot with a rubber fetishist in L.A., and I posted the resulting pix on MySpace. (Does anybody remember MySpace?) And it was like the world stopped. And everything started going in slow motion. The amount of attention I received skyrocketed. And so did my self confidence. By the end of that year, I was getting invited to parties, clubs, fetish events… I even got an invitation to write this blog. Trouble was… at that point, I hadn’t really been out all that much! So I was bascially thrown into t-world like being thrown off a dock. Sink or swim. It was scary. Unsettling. And rewarding beyond my wildest dreams.

But equally important during that time was the chatting I was doing online. In the tgirl chatrooms, the vibe was welcoming and accepting. I started to feel this wave of support. I started to feel like I was a part of something. Something special. And I was. The world was changing. Slowly. But it was definitely changing. 

Pop culture was changing too. Logo - the gay-focused cable station hit the airwaves in 2005. TV series like “Queer as Folk” and “The L Word” proved successful. And RuPaul started her “Drag Race.” Felicity Huffman was nominated for an Academy Award (and won the Golden Globe) for her portrayal of a transsexual in “Transamerica,” and Ellen launched her daytime talk show. Clearly, America was becoming more and more accepting of LGBT people and issues.

Now, to most of us, it seems that trans gender people lag behind the gay and lesbian population when it comes to acceptance. So we’ve got a long way to go. But by 2007, things were definitely on the rise.

The years since 2007 have been pretty amazing to me. Back when I first logged on to the internet, I pretty quickly named my female persona, CiCi. The name came from the fact that I was a cyber chick. I was, for the most part, a tgirl only on line. I had a few clothes. A few pix to share. But I was totally closeted, and I never expected to actually go out. So I took that concept (cyber chick) and reduced it to its initials, C.C. But I didn’t like the way the initials looked, so I expanded it to CiCi. That somehow seemed more chic.

So for many years, I was just a cyber chick. And I’m sure that’s true of a lot of girls reading this blog. It’s not really the same as being in the closet, because to me, the closet is very solitary and lonely. Cyberlife is the opposite. It’s full of people to share with and learn from and grow with. I realize now that there are a lot of “cyber chicks” out there. Tgirls who will never leave the online world. And I know why this is. It takes a lot to go out. And once you’re out, you still have to summon the courage to keep going out. I’ve been out and about in L.A. for several years now, and I still get nervous. Every single night.

Yet, despite my anxieties, that’s what I’ve been doing these past three or four years. Going out. If that cyber chick that gave CiCi her name could see CiCi now, she’d be pretty shocked. Today, CiCi goes out pretty regularly in L.A. and quite often in Vegas. She’s also been out in Miami, San Francisco, and Atlanta. She attends at least one or two tg or fetish events every year, and, if that’s not enough changes for one person, she has also started dating men. 

That last part? That part about dating men? That just happened in the past year-and-a-half or so. (See? Things are always changing.) I always considered myself heterosexual. Perhaps bi. But in the past year or so I’ve started dating men and found that I really like it. Does this make me gay? I know a lot of you ask yourselves that question. If I’m a cd, does that make me gay? If I still like girls, does that make me a lesbian? If you ask me, you are whatever you want to call yourself. And it’s nobody else’s business. For me, once you get into t-world, all those old labels… gay, straight, male, female… start to blur. And I see no need to clarify further. 

In my life, I can now say that I’ve been attracted to men, women, and tgirls. So for me, it’s not the gender, it’s the person. There’s either chemistry or there isn’t. And when there is chemistry… on those happy rare occasions… I am no longer willing to limit myself because of some ancient tradition or religious belief. Nope. I’m going for it.

And I’m having fun. I don’t think I realized just how depressed I was in the 90’s. Just how lost I was. I knew something was off. But I didn’t know what. Now I do. Dating men happened slowly for me. It’s kind of like my trans gender life. It was probably always there, but repressed. Or denied. Who knows? I was a pretty conventional kid from a pretty conventional family in a pretty typical small town. There weren’t a lot of gay role models or tv/cd girls to look up to. Like most of you, I had to learn to make things up as I went along. (And I’m still doing that.) 

I’ve also learned that you can’t predict the future. In 1999, I had no idea 
I’d be a cross dresser in 2000. In 2000, I had no idea I’d be attending fetish events in 2003. In 2003 I had no idea that I’d purge and withdraw in 2005. In 2005, I had no idea that I’d be going out regularly in 2007. And in 2007, I had no idea that I’d be dating men in 2009. My life as CiCi… as well as my boy life… continues to unfold with constant, and sometimes terrifying, unpredictability. Where will I be and who will I be two years from now? Five years from now? Ten years from now? I have no idea. In the past year alone, I’ve taken a couple of girls out for their first time out (always very exciting), but I’ve also seen two very good friends withdraw from the scene (always very sad). I’ve watched my friends weather good times and bad. I’ve partied a little, cried a little, and hoped a lot. On a happy note (a very happy note), two of my friends got married this year. One to girl and one to a boy. And no matter what your situation, that has to give you hope! 

I pose a lot of questions in this blog. And I’m the first to admit that I don’t have all the answers. But here’s one thing I do know: being CiCi teaches me something every day. My boy side worries about all sorts of things. Because he has to. CiCi, on the other hand, has no worries. No responsibilities. No deadlines. And no bills to pay. She’s fun. She’s happy. She’s sexually adventurous. She is in many ways the most open, honest, and free spirited part of myself. I started this blog three years ago with a column called, “Baby Steps in Sky High Heels.” Today, I feel like I’m taking longer strides. But there have definitely been a few missteps along the way. (As well as a few giant steps backwards.) But the bottom line is, CiCi inspires me. She liberates me. She moves me. And I’ve learned a heck of a lot by walking around in her shoes.
It’s now 2011. A new decade in the new millennium. I hope it’s a good one for you. I hope it’s unpredictable and flirty and fun. I hope you’re not lonely. And I hope you find love. 

Happy New Decade, everyone. And please… take care out there!
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
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a schoolgirl for Halloween

I had picked out my Halloween costume months ago: a girl in a school uniform. (I was inspired by Elizabeth Hurley’s schoolgirl outfit in the movie Bedazzled.)
I searched the Internet and found a number of sites that sold school uniforms. The French Toast site had a nice selection, reasonable prices, and sizes that would fit me. I ordered a white, short sleeve blouse with a Peter Pan collar, a red and black pleated skirt, a matching cross tie, and white knee socks. I already had a pair of black, Mary Janes with a chunky heel.
It was my first time out since spring, so it took longer than usual to get ready (more than normal hair removal and lack-of-practice cosmetic skills). I looked cute in that outfit.
My wife had a red hair band that I was going to wear, but it did not look right. My daughter suggested putting my hair in a braid or pigtails. Pigtails with red ribbons were perfect; they completed the look.
I put on my coat, grabbed my purse, and went to the 2002 installment of my support group's Halloween party.
I had an urge to share my costume with the general public. First, I tried Dunkin’ Donuts, but the place was empty. Next, I tried Stop and Shop. It was very busy, but I chickened-out. As I drove on, I tried to think of other places to try and I remembered the CVS near the site of my support group’s meeting.
I pulled into the CVS parking lot and the place was full of cars. I did not hesitate. I parked the car, grabbed my keys and wallet, and went inside.
Two couples exiting the store barely noticed me. I walked to the back of the store to get a Pepsi and passed a few more people who never paid me any mind.
I figured out why the store was busy… a lot of people were in the Halloween department, buying candy, costumes, and whatever.
I headed to the registers. There were two lines, which soon expanded to three. A young boy in front of me, smiled at me and I smiled back, but no one else seemed to notice me. The cashier did not seem to have any reaction either. After I paid the cashier and walked out of the store, the same boy was standing near the door checking out newspapers or whatever and he watched me intently as I walked out.
Boy, was that anti-climatic! Did I pass or did everyone avoid me like the plague? I dunno. I actually made eye contact with a lot of the people I saw, but besides the young boy, they never reacted. It was like I was invisible. Whatever… it sure boosted my confidence and the mall is on tap for a future adventure.
I arrived at the party and there was a good crowd… the usual and a few newbies. My costume was a hit. Everyone who had a camera took a picture of me. There were four costume contest categories and I won for the scariest… scary in that a 50-something man was impersonating an 18-year-old girl impersonating a 12-year-old girl. That is scary!
My prize was a neat makeup mirror. It consists of two mirrors (one normal, the other magnified) mounted on either end of a bendable neck. When you are using one mirror, the other mirror serves as the base.
I had a very good time.
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A Secret Princess

I haven't always been into crossdressing, and compared to most of the stories I've read, you could say I'm a bit of a late bloomer. I can't remember exactly when I started feeling attracted to wearing women's clothing, but I can place it to somewhere in my mid-to-late teens. What I can recall is being at a concert with my girlfriend at the time. We were walking around and I saw two girls wearing brightly colored tutus (they were more like petticoats to be honest) walking around and I froze. I mean, I knew ballerinas wore tutus but I never really thought much of it until that very moment. It looked very attractive and appealing to me. I turned towards my girlfriend and asked her if she would ever wear that. She kind of shrugged it off and said "maybe, I wouldn't buy one though". I asked her what if I bought one for her to wear and she said sure. I went online and bought a black petticoat (she wasn't very much into pink, but she sure loved black) for her.
When it arrived at my house, I immediately took the package to my room, locked the door, and looked at it. Before I even realized it, I had tried it on and this rush, this feeling swept over me. It felt so right, and wonderful. I was instantly turned on. The next time she came over, I gave her the petticoat, she slipped it on and, being a dancer, she twirled around a bit in it. I told her it looked very attractive and one thing led to another and I made love to her while she wore the petticoat. Afterward, she said it was kind of scratchy and while she liked it, she said she didn't see herself wearing it very often. She did however wear it to my house once or twice more until she accidentally left it in my room and just sort of forgot about it. I certainly didn't. I remember trying on the petticoat and twirling and prancing and being so flushed and turned on by it. I had no idea I felt this way. Of course, my first instinct was to keep it a secret, so when I was done, I shoved it to the back my closet, to be unseen and unknown by anyone except me.

A year or so later, that same girlfriend and I went to her high school prom (I had graduated two years before), and like most couples, we rented a hotel room and stayed the weekend. She wore a big, ruffled, absolutely beautiful purple prom dress that I secretly adored but never let it show except for a casual "That dress looks nice on you" comment. Over that weekend, while at the pool, she noticed she forgot her cell phone and asked me to run up to the room to get it. I went up and found it in the closet...along with her dress. I stared at it for a few seconds before deciding to put it on. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt so pretty. I couldn't believe I was actually wearing a dress! A poofy prom dress no less! I was in heaven. I then realized I was taking a bit longer than I should have so I took it off, grabbed the phone and headed back to the pool, after I had "cooled off" a bit.

At this point, I was extremely secretive about my crossdressing. I only got to try on the prom dress once, but I wish I could've kept it forever. Years went by, my girlfriend and I went through a very painful breakup, and I was single for the first time in 4 years. I never told her that I tried her dress (or that I kept her petticoat). Eventually, the petticoat ended up getting thrown out along with a bunch of random things in my closet during a cleaning by accident. At this point, I was working a full time job and I came across a costume site that had tons of fairy tale (among other things) costume dresses and it dawned to me that I could actually afford to buy my own clothes! I set a little aside and purchased an Alice In Wonderland costume along with a new petticoat to go with it. When it finally arrived, I tried it on and felt magical. I have always loved the dress Alice wears, so while wearing it, I felt innocent, vulnerable, and delicate, but also very pretty. I still have that costume, and sometimes when I'm alone and the urge strikes, the dress comes out and I go in. I plan on visiting the costume site again soon to purchase my next dress, Rainbow Brite (complete with a rainbow tutu, of course)!

I came across your site a little while ago and I was fascinated by your articles. How wonderful it is for a girl to be into crossdressing! I've always been comfortable in my sexuality and while my crossdressing habits first kind of scared me a little (as well as excite me!), I kind of settled into the notion that I just liked wearing women's clothing. It first started off as a sexual attraction, and for the most part it still is. It has since evolved to include more than just sexual thoughts. I love the feeling of wearing a petticoat and nothing else. I absolutely adore twirling around in a tutu or being embraced by a beautiful fairy dress with puffy sleeves. I've also had to deal with the internal workings of coming out as a crossdresser. Part of me wants to keep it a private secret, a special feeling for me and only me that I will take with me to the grave, yet I find myself occasionally having dreams at night about wearing a dress. On rarer occasions,
I've found myself telling some of my closest friends that are girls about these dreams, seemingly joking.

I'm currently in a relationship with a wonderful girl who knows I have a fondness for girls in tutus. I lucked out because she enjoys dressing up for me, and I even gave her my Alice costume to wear for Halloween (She saw it online and thought it'd make a cute costume, so I "bought" it for her). The costume ended up back in my possession a little while ago, how I've missed wearing it so! While she is definitely the most understanding girl I have ever been with, I'm not sure if I will ever tell her about my crossdressing. The thing is, I'm not sure if I even want to. I feel as though my crossdressing, while I've accepted it as a part of me, will always remain a secret between me and myself, to be done in private, and I'm completely comfortable with that. I like having a little secret to myself, though I won't lie to you, I have fantasies about being sissified. I would love for me and my girlfriend to be both dressed up like princesses and be all girly, but for now, I'm happy the way I am, as a secret princess.

This has been both a rush and a relief to be able to share this with someone, and especially to someone who appreciates how wonderful this is, while still staying true to my secret (thank you anonymous internet!). I am so glad I found your site and that there are people who feel just like me. It makes me feel even more comfortable to wear my petticoats and tutus knowing this, and as it is, I happen to be wearing my petticoat now!
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Grayson Perry

Grayson Perry is one of my crossdressing heroes.

He isn't well known outside the UK, and he isn't even all that well-known inside it. So here's a brief introduction to this very interesting person.

Grayson Perry (52) is an artist. In fact, he's a very good one, having won Britain's prestigious Turner Prize in 2003. The Turner Prize was where I first heard of Perry. Not only did he win it, but he collected it wearing a dress, which I thought was remarkably brave. That got him into the papers (and therefore brought him to my attention), and probably gave the Turner Prize organisers a bit of unexpected publicity. I am honestly not sure I could name one other Turner Prize winner, although that chap who pickled the shark in the tank might have been in with a shot for a while there.

Perry is best known for his ceramic pots, which have elegant classical shapes, but are often decorated with images of very dark themes. It was one such pot which won him the Turner Prize. He also makes quilts and embroidery and works in other media.

Perry is also a very open cross dresser. I thought that him appearing in a dress to collect his Turner Prize was extraordinary, but he still went one better. In 2004, he was invited to Buckingham Palace to meet the Queen. And he wore a frock. I personally would like to be more confident in my cross dressing (wouldn't we all?), but cross dressing to meet the Queen is insane: Her Majesty is one tough lady. Perry said "I thought the Queen's eyes were going to pop out of her head when she saw me." We may not have been amused.

I'm probably the first tranny at the Palace, although one or two may have slipped through unnoticed. This just happens to be my preferred style of dress.

Other transvestites think I'm the wrong sort of weirdo because they don't like my dresses.

Perry's wife Phillipa and daughter Flo (20) have known about his open cross dressing from the beginning. He adopts the alter-ego Claire. He often (but not always) dresses Claire as a child (something I personally find very disturbing and will touch on in a later blog; the "wrong sort of weirdo"?). He is often interviewed in the persona of Claire. His autobiography, published in 2006, is entitledPortrait of the Artist as a Young Girl. I admit I haven't read it yet, but it's on my list, and you can be sure I will blog about it once I have. Perry writes:

Claire is not a real person; it's me in a frock. All she does is swan about, look at herself in the mirror and primp, and go to parties, smile and have a nice time. She does not DO anything - she doesn't even make a bit of toast. Claire doesn't make any pots.

You can’t put on a dress and swan about in public and complain when you get attention. It doesn’t bother me. It’s a handy tool when I need it. I might be ‘the tranny potter' but at least it's a brand.

Once he was on my radar, I have kept attempted to keep up with his appearances. I unfortunately missed his appearance on Desert Island Discs (shame on you if you have never heard of this fascinating interview programme from the BBC!), but I did manage to see his personal documentary, Why Men Wear Frocks. I wasn't able to find it on YouTube, but I did find a Google video of the first couple of minutes here. If you have more success finding this online, please let me know and I will update my links. (Addendum: I have finally got hold of this documentary and have started to blog about it in much more detail here).

What I enjoyed about this programme (and why I like Perry) is that he is absolutely fearless and forthright in what he does. He is a cross dresser, and he enjoys it, and so he just does it. He is also not afraid to talk openly about why cross dressing is enjoyable, and why sometimes it is painful or unpleasant. He may be what Eddie Izzard calls an "executive transvestite".

Why I envy him is that, when I see him, nobody seems to bat an eye at his behaviour (with perhaps the exception of Her Majesty on that one occasion). It's as if, being an artist, people expect him to behave in an outrageous way. Being an artist seems to give himpermission to cross dress, somehow. When I watch him I want to shout: "It's OK for you! You're not supposed to conform to societal norms! But what about the rest of us?"

Even I admit, I feel more comfortable with cross dressing among artistic types (artists and musicians and actors) than among more traditional male archetypes (teachers, lawyers, doctors, priests).

As well as being a transvestite, Perry is also a motorcycle enthusiast. The documentary features a track day, where a large male biker is asked why he enjoys motorcycles. He responds (without a hint of irony) something like "Well, I come down here, I put on my leathers, and I feel like a completely different person. I can leave my life behind and just be someone else for a while. It's totally relaxing". Perry elicited several similar comments from other bikers, and came away remarking that actually, "trannies and bikers have a lot more in common than you might think."

So there you have him. Grayson Perry. Artist. Transvestite. Queen-surpriser.
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