Clothing Optional

There are several things I love/hate about Pinterest - that is to say, which vex me but I can't really complain about.  For instance, Pinterest knows what I'm looking at and enjoys herding me down channels of mini-obsession.  It knows I like shoes and outfits, but it likes to suggest exotic lingerie, short tight skirts and (!!?) light bondage wear.  Pinterest is trying to turn me into a little slut.

Also, when it comes to pinning I'm just a cheerful ball of compliance, enjoying everything I see so much I don't even know if I've already saved it two or three times.  The more time I spend ogling girly things, the happier Pinterest is.

It's ultimate goal: replicating my brain with pixels and creating a digital
copy of myself, who will finally appreciate all the effort its making.

What plagues me most of all isn't really down to Pinterest itself, but the lack of harmony between my virtual closet and my personal set of existential desires, which my Pinterest boards represent.  The bane of my transgender used to be department stores, where I still conceal my jealousy and yearning as I pass by shop windows full of feminine wonder; now I don't even have to leave home to experience this dysphoria!

I stepped through the barrier of female-exclusive consumerism in college, when (with the emotional support of my bestie, Angel) I bought my first outfit: a short sleeve purplish lavender body suit & button-up denim mini from thrift, and my first ever pair of black high heels (MY heels, all mine!) from Payless.  It's funny now, how I think back on those choices and roll my eyes at how cheap, how tawdry these particular clothes were... I mean, today I do own a denim mini, several body suits and black heels, only they're much more tasteful.  But those were first steps, the first time I'd ever worn clothes that were based on my tastes, my choices, my identity, not just borrowing from someone else's, so I value that turning point.

Currently, my wardrobe consists of a decent variety of styles for nearly every occasion, from casual to dressy.  I've previously mentioned how I could last a few weeks using this set of clothes without needing a wash day.  For someone who doesn't leave the house, it's practical, pleasing, and reflective of my personal feminine image.  I have nothing to complain about.

Except...

I reeeeaaaaallly want more clothes!  I can't help it, and I probably wouldn't help it if I had the choice.  I love to dress up.  When I'm Kris, I don't give much thought to what I wear or what people think of me - jeans and t-shirts, that's the life for me.  (And don't get me started on the masochistic lunacy of NECK TIES as a masculine fashion tradition!)  Guys have a simpler fashion palette, and that's just fine.  As a woman, however, I require special considerations in the clothes I wear, such as intricacy, appeal, variation, and distinct muliebrity.

I bet they didn't put THIS word in your SATs!

Therefore, If I ever find myself a sugar momma willing to bankroll my softer side, I have a list of wardrobe improvements* I'd like to make:

1) Breasts

Let's start with a very basic need which supersedes attire.  I'm absolutely weary of not having breasts to fill out my bra. I hate going about my business and having to push my chest back down every ten minutes or so, due to lack of fundamental weight that defines the point of even wearing a bra.  Do any women have Floating Bosom Syndrome?  Not according to Google, they don't.  Ridiculous!

In short: I want to wear bras, so give me the means to justify them.  (Synthetic, please.  I'm not in the least prepared to explain to the world why I decided to spring for implants.)

2) Lingerie

If a girl's outfit could be compared to a work of architecture, then underwear is the foundation.  Perhaps no one can see it, but it makes a world of difference to what we see on the outside.  The right kind of underwear can inspire confidence, improve one's demeanor, or just be a feel-good part of your day.

I want a drawerful of matching bra & panty sets.  I need a variety of stockings with garter belts, and a selection of patterned tights (and basic colors, too).  Another drawer must be filled with lacy chemises, teddies & silky negligees.  Bustiers would be a lovely addition, and (since we're talking) I've always wanted to try corsets.  (And if we're venturing into dedicated preferences, I'll confess that I won't say no to the odd bit of intimate leather and metal, if such apparel does indeed exist.  I'm sure I wouldn't know...)

I'm not sure how to classify body suits, but they turn up in every search for "lingerie," even though you can wear them visibly as part of an ensemble.  They're tight little shapers that help keep nether bits snug, support the chest, and slim contours. I have four pair myself, two solid and two striped, and they are unparalleled for bringing my femme to the fore.  Simply magnificent. So I'm just going to leave this here...

3) Dresses

Say what you want about the liberties women enjoy to wear whatever they want, but I'll insist there is no happier expression of feminine spirit than the essential dress.  It's a do-it-all kind of piece, decorating the shoulders, neck, bosom, back and waist, then cascading from the hips down with a gender-exclusive signature look that cannot be replicated.  Examining the last century, decade by decade, makes me fall in love with dresses and how they've evolved, convincing me they're never going away, and thank God for that.  I would wear a different dress every single day.

4) Skirts, Pants & Tops

I feel like I have to put these together, because even though tops may be worn with pants, you can't have a skirt without tops.  (The censors just won't have it, I'm sorry.)  Also, the combinations are infinite.  Also also, you MUST coordinate - this skirt with that camisole, those slacks with that shirt, these jeans with a peasant blouse, etc. etc.  That said, I love options.  Female clothing offers a myriad ways to communicate mood, style and personality for every occasion.  Fill my closet with such options, and I'll be downright giddy.

5) Shoes

I've already been over shoes, but it bears repeating in such a list as mine.  I will most certainly wear: High heels, sandals, flats, Mary Janes, wedges, ankle boots, knee high boots (not cowboy, thanks).  I love bows, buckles, ankle straps, peep toes, platforms, sneakers, lace-ups and tie-ons.  Basically, just look up my Pinterest board "Well Heeled" and make that list a reality.

6) Jewelry

There's a fashion rule, that before a lady leaves the house, she should remove one piece of jewelry.  This leads me to believe that women have a tendency to over-accesorize, which may not be a problem for me.  I'm seriously not sure how much of a jewelry girl I really am.  I suspect having bits and bobs dangling all over my person might drive me nuts after a while, especially since I work with my hands so much that rings and bracelets might become a nuisance, even an impediment.  That said, I wouldn't turn away a generous sampling of bling.  Necklaces and bangles are nice, and anklets, and armlets.  Maybe chokers.  What I'm absolutely in love with is the earrings (which is saying a lot, for somebody with no pierced ears).  Danglies, hoops, studs... I'm just saying, if you sat me down in a chair and popped two holes in the lobe & one on the outside (left & right) then I wouldn't likely complain much.**

 ~            *           ~            *             ~          *            ~           *            ~

They say clothes make the person, which is just a cryptic way of saying "You are what you wear."  Maybe that's so, but even if you don't actually wear the clothes I believe preferences count as intentions.  Despite the clothes, of course, I must still use a bit of imagination and ingenuity to make the look work for me.  Just as well, since I'm not generally trying to impress anybody but myself.

Also, a girl can always dream.
And she does, mon cher... she does!

-- HCP

*setting aside, for the moment, the basic need for extra space, time and interpersonal attention that having an expansive wardrobe demands.  They say you can't have it all. Well... who the hell asked "them," anyway?

**I bet piercing stings, at least a little, so I probably WOULD complain.

Intention Deficit

I'm looking at my recent wave of posts and thinking, "How many different ways can I say 'I want to come out, but I won't, because I'm considerate and selfless?'" followed immediately with "Could I just shut up and pick another topic?"  Obviously, the self-sanction/self-denial contradiction has been weighing on me this summer.

It probably started last month when Erica, completely of her own volition, broached the subject of me taking a "girl day."  I actually faltered (in shock, mostly), demurred (because I'm soooo selfless, have I mentioned that?), and gradually relented, since it's been entire years since I've had spouse-sanctioned permission to switch wardrobes, much less when it's her idea!

The time was delightful.  Erica insisted there was no problem spending the day with me "as friends," and we even tackled downsizing our full-to-bursting closet together.  I made her try on every outfit she owned and did the same with mine, and we gave each other feedback on what worked and what didn't, what to save and what to donate.  As women do.

Later, we binged TV shows and ate junk food
in pigtails and pajama pants. As introverts do.

The process of rummaging through my clothes showed me an unprecedented premise, regarding the kinds of clothes I've been collecting over the years: dresses, skirts, shoes... naturally.  Also: tops, pants, sweaters, shorts, overalls (long and short), assorted lingerie, including underwear, bras, legwear, nightwear, & *ahem* playwear.  In short, my wardrobe doesn't reflect someone who obsesses with dressing as a woman, so much as it indicates the thoughtfulness and thoroughness of someone building their female identity.  If I didn't know any better, I might say that subconsciously I was taking steps to transition from one life to another.

I'm not, of course.  And I realize that sounds like denial, and many readers are shaking their heads and placing little bets with themselves that I'm about two years from announcing my full, legal abandonment of all male entitlements and privileges.  It's because I really want to, yes.  I admit it.  But still, I won't.  Because I don't have a good enough reason.

I've definitely got reasons to come out, though, you betcha! ... Shall I list them?  You betcha.

1. I like being honest.  If there's one trait I possess that's both a virtue and liability, it's truthfulness.  Don't go thinking I'm all pious, because I know how to lie, and lie well.  (It sorta goes with the closet life.)  My issue is that I want to proclaim truth.  This makes me trustworthy and dependable, while at the same time completely annoying to my Facebook friends who constantly post stupid inaccuracies in the news and with various memes.  Usually, though, I pair my truth with tact, for maximum effectiveness.

Put another way: when a relative of mine once said he could always count on me to tell the truth, this was less of a compliment and more a way of pointing out that I always tell on myself.  Truly, I find intimate personal divulgence romantically idyllic.  People close to me have no idea how easy it is to get the truth out of me, if they try.  Although, maybe they don't want to.  Which brings me to...

2. Hiding my femme identity is exhausting.  As I've mentioned before, there are loved ones who know of my secret feminine self, but most of them don't want any part of this world.  I make the effort to keep them shielded from it.  And then there's... the rest of the world, basically.  For half of them I'm good, since I really don't care if the men catch on (in fact, I prefer it).  My problem is the distance between myself and other women.

I could (and might) write an entirely separate article on how agonizing it is to know women, to have them as friends, and not be able to explain how deeply I relate to them... more so, to withhold the opportunity for them to care.  It's indescribable, the heartache of socializing with women and knowing they still see me as male, being the only one who can see the invisible wall between us.  At least if they knew, there could be an informed decision.  Of course, once or twice the wall has fallen, and the response was... less than optimal. Leading to...

3. I hate the idea of getting "caught."  It's only funny in sitcoms.  The old "It's not what it looks like!" routine followed by a laugh track, or the wail of a sad trombone.  In real life, there's shock, anger, a tragic lack of adequate vocabulary, and wild ultimatums.  In the best case scenario, there's still debris to clean up, left over from the world everyone once knew but is gone forever, a sense of loss, the pain of change.

It's the concept - "caught" - that highlights the difference between asserting oneself and becoming a victim of circumstance.  Basically, you can't get caught at something if everyone knows you're doing it.  Feeling guilty because someone learned about your secret, outside of it being your decision to let them know, somehow suggests wrongdoing.  In moral circles, they say that whatever you practice in secret must be immoral, if you don't want anyone else to know you're doing it.  Truly, if I were to out myself as transgender there would still be judgment, but I believe that might be easier to endure than this gender purgatory I dwell in now.

They also say the grass is greener, over there. That could also be
because there's more fertilizer to step in, if you know what I'm sayin'.

As I continue my journey, I notice another trend that hasn't quite caught on yet, but may impact events in the future: I'm less concerned with secrecy.  It's become more a job than an obligation, to the point where I should classify it as "community service in lieu of jail."  Except that I've been serving time as well.  And I still don't see how I'm guilty of any crime.  One of these days, I may just blurt it out in a flash of blind rebellion, just because I need to evoke a reaction.  At worst, I'll get sideways glances and hasty exits from the rooms I walk in.  Maybe that kind of treatment doesn't worry me anymore.

Social norms.  Can't live with 'em, can't leave the house without 'em.  (Although if I decide to try, I've got maybe two weeks' worth of outfits before I have to come home to use the washer & dryer.)

-- HCP

Holli Cherise's Day Off

I don't know what floats the rest of your collective boats when you get a day (and the house) all to yourself, but as for me there is absolutely nothing equal to being able to wear whatever the hell I want. Sure, I can lay flat on my back and eat nacho cheese straight from the can, or play video games until I've worn down the Wii batteries, but as a cross-dresser I only want to wear myself out by wearing whatever goes with a hot pair of heels.

Typical, and that's no joke. If I had the place to myself for a month, I'd likely spend the entire time en femme.  True, I'd go berserk with depression and loneliness, but that's neither here nor there.  The point is opportunity.  And that's what I've seized today.

So far, my day can be described as follows:

• Leaned up from my comfy spot in bed to kiss Erica goodbye.  Off she went to work, and up I jumped to shower, shave, moisturize, and manicure.

• Threw on some frillies and a white Frederick's dressing robe, then stuck my head into the internet for an hour to see what was new.

 

• Stared at my lovely wardrobe, trying to decide what to start with.  Decided that it'd been ages since I tried most of these outfits on, and so initiated the process of modeling everything I own in front of the a mirror.  (I couldn't help it...!)

• Discoveries: a) some dresses I used to hate have now grown on me, b) some dresses just don't flatter my plain frame, and I have no idea why I've hung onto them for so long, c) I really, really need some sun on my arms and shoulders, b/c my face and neck look like they go on someone else's body, and d) it's almost 11:00! Why am I wasting time playing fashion show when there's so little time??

• Settled on a tight mauve crochet top (to go with the 5" heels) white tights, and a black suede mini. Did my hair up nice in a black bow scrunchie and adorned myself w/ a li'l bling.  Marched myself into the kitchen to paint my nails and have a bowl of cereal. (Hey, 11:00 a.m. is technically morning... breakfast still applies!)

• Sat down to write new blog for adoring fans.

Exciting, n'cest pas?  Well, mostly.  If I can push away all the more interesting alternatives: friends, a real manicure in a nail salon, a light lunch at a sidewalk cafe under an umbrella, movies, girl talk, shoe shopping...

"Please, ladies, no gang signs... just kidding, throw 'em up there."

Or how about instead I spend all that closet time picking out clothes for the weekend, tying my hair back, making myself up, packing a snack bag, then jumping into the car for a lazy weekend with friends who call me Holli because it's who I am?  Maybe getting some actual sun by somebody's pool, earning myself a cute little bikini line, giving in to peer pressure and getting my ears pierced.  Or letting them pick out a tattoo.

"You all said 'pirate skull' right? How does it look? Badass?"

Great.  Now I'm jealous of alternate universe Me.

Ah, but still... life is good. Even in small doses.

~HCP

Lovin' the Day

I never know if the sudden appearance of one of my posts brings new joy to your lives, but sometimes I get the sneaking suspicion that the space between new posts is a bit of a bother.  Or not.  I dunno, I don't get much feedback.  But I'm prepared to err on the side of love.

At any rate - Good news!  Last week I passed up the chance to take a much-needed mental health day away from my exhausting, thankless day job, then waded through several days worth of excellent reasons why I should have run when I had the chance.  All Friday, therefore, I'm collecting that personal raincheck.  And I'm girling it up by my sweet lonesome.

I've been anticipating a day like this for awhile.

I went shopping.

I added a little pink to my wardrobe, and a new pair of shoes to match.

And I've been harvesting a few ideas for some fresh new blogs.  So if you're one of the faithful (up to 8 official followers now!) or a brand new reader, watch this space.

See you in a few hours!

~HCP

Free Form Fantasy pt. 1: Clothes

In my last entry, I dropped a hint to ya'll that maybe I'd toss up my own personal fantasies as examples of what I'm talking about, vis-à-vis the four categories of where crossdreaming fantasies tend to fall.  Not only am I terribly shy about doing this, but I'm also terribly eager.  So in light of my contradictory impulses, please feel free to share your own in the comments, if you please, so I don't die of stage fright... er, blog fright. (?)

On the other hand, clothes are the easiest things to talk about.  And do I fantasize about clothes?  What a dumb question.  Let's not even dignify it with a response.  But what I will do is go straight to the source, back about twelve years ago when I first began journaling my impressions of being a closeted cross-dresser.  I was inspired to write about the seasons and how each of them invoked unique moods which influenced my fashion sense.  Just reading over it makes me all wistfully giddy and stuff:

"Autumn, naturally, reminds me of the falling temperatures and the changing of colors. Words like "brisk" and "crisp" serve as delectable onomatopoeia that conjure feelings of warmth and coziness, the smell of burning fires and cooking food.  There is an air of domesticity, but also of curling up in comfortable surroundings and being protected in that refuge of solitude.  Autumn is suggestive of leisurely activity, passive attention to surroundings and dreaming of the future when things will change back again.

 "Ideally, I can picture dressing in tights, a sweater and knee-length skirt, low heels and letting my hair down so it can blow (in all scenarios, I would have at least shoulder length hair).  I would like going shopping, but not at the malls.  I would prefer a quiet little town with a lot of history where the leaves litter the sidewalks and local stores are run by quiet people who leave you to your business unless you actually want to buy something.  Just to walk silently through the streets and enjoy the freedom would be my planned afternoon, return home and make dinner, kick off my heels and watch a movie under a blanket.

"Winter arrives, very cold and bleak in the country, but very bright, busy and colorful in the city.  A sharp edge hangs in the air, almost difficult to breathe but invigorating, as if the oxygen were somehow purer.  Bodies are challenged to keep up with the rigors of walking against the wind, letting each gust wash against faces and rub their cheeks red.  As winters can sometimes feel lonely, to be near other people can be refreshing and exciting.  There is much eating and celebrating, and decorations adorn our homes to compensate for the dreary landscape.  Snow and ice falls, decorating the world as well.

"Dinner and the theater!  I am close to D.C. where there is the Kennedy Center and other displays of high art.  The day would be spent getting dressed in something beautiful and elegant.  My hair would be put up in curls, my face made fresh and clean, and the outfit stunning and sensational: a long dress, snug, warm and long sleeved, possibly black but not red, and definitely gold jewelry & strappy heels.  There would be a play or musical, and dinner afterward at a nice restaurant.  Then wind the evening down with some music and conversation.  The entire evening would be filled with the noises of a cold, bustling metropolis, unaware of me but full of welcome cheer.

"Spring, symbol of rebirth and new life awaken the world after its long sleep.  Colors begin to bloom.  We notice once more that the skies were always blue.  The air smells sweet, almost perfumed.  Blossoms decorate the trees and land with a fine veil, like lace.  Green grass is greener, new leaves are rich with vital water, and rain falls everywhere to add sustenance.  Life is fragile - a cold snap could freeze the new leaves and break them off - but all life remains patient and sure that it will survive.  The world is admired for its splendor, similar to autumn when we appreciate the beauty for which life was sacrified.  Now life is returned, a promise made every year.

"I know I would love to be dressed in pureness.  My outfit would be comprised of soft colors, pink, white, subdued purple... any of these would go well together.  A low neck top or dress with a short loose skirt, pink nails, straight hair caught behind a head band to hang over my shoulders except for the wisps that I curl into bangs, white hose if my outfit contains white, otherwise nude (or none).  Either ankle strap sandals or leather heels, simple jewelry.  Since I would love to revel in my attractive and vulnerable state, someplace very public would be ideal.  A place to spend time in the open might be a large historic town or some other vast space with many attractions to visit.  A daytime tour of the area could be fun (and relatively safe).  A light lunch in an outdoor cafe, followed by the trip home before nightfall.  In the evening, before heading home, perhaps some shopping and (if I was brave) trying on some clothes... shoes, outfits, perfume samples, etc.

"Summer is simultaneously active and lazy.  There is an either/or state of being... either we are lounging or we are doing a lot at once.  Days can be filled with visiting places all day long and getting tired, or watching television all day with nothing else in mind.  The sun is indifferent, but the weather may be baking one day and then light and breezy the next.  Sunlight changes the very colors of our bodies, like skin and hair.  Trees are full of rich, green leaves and the skies are dotted with thick puffy clouds.  This is nature showing everything it's got.  Movie theaters burst with new releases, stores sell all the new products they can.  Carnivals spring up in vacant lots overnight.  It's the most convenient time to get as much done as we can, even though summer seems to be the shortest season
 of all.

"The wilder side of my feminine nature emerges.  if I go out, I'm dressing up nice.  Similar to my winter ideal, this would be a good time to show off, not in the same elegant way but sexy and daring.  Heels are too high, the skirt is too short, and the perfume is sweet.  Long nails, sensual makeup, full hair and a tight top.  I'd spend the day being lazy... doing my nails and hair, watching TV.  Later I want to get out with the girls, be beautiful just for myself and have as much fun in a night as I can.  Eating out, movies, shopping, all local entertainment.  Of course, there are places to go by car, concerts, beach boardwalks, etc.  The best thing about a summer fling?  Endless possibilities."

...Mm!!  Now I'm all bothered.  Hopefully I didn't drag you down with me.  (No pun intended, darlings.)

I'm being a bit minimalist in these descriptions.  I mean, I have all kinds of different favorite kinds of clothes - stockings with seams up the back, suede skirts, hoop earrings, just to name a few - but this was only to show you how it starts: very small.

Next blog - going public.

~HCP

All In Your Head

As a psych minor, I enjoy when people talk about their dreams.  The more unusual the better.  It's fun to analyze.  Our dreams are certainly fascinating, like crinkled up road maps to the worlds of our being, which you have to smooth out if you hope to make any sense of them.  Depending on how well I know the dreamer, I'm usually pretty good at it.  On the other hand, sometimes I have no idea what to think when I'm staring into my own tapestry of patchwork thoughts. Ahh, trees, to where didst thy forest disappear?

Daydreams also interest me.  Fantasies are rife with symbolism, and typically a lot more straightforward than our chaotic subconscious - thus, easier to decrypt.  So when it comes to the things I like to imagine in the car or during a long stretch of mind-killing boredom, I'm most confident about what I'm getting at.

As a crossdreamer, I'm all too experienced in the art of fantasy craft.  I've been at it since the single digits of youth and I don't seem to show any signs of growing tired of it.  There has been an evolution, of sorts, and I'd love to regale you with some of my truly dizzying transformation scenarios (and perhaps I will, eventually), but I've got something slightly more encompassing in mind.  I've been using my knack for analysis on the general basis of crossdreaming fantasies, you see, and I'd like to get some of this down before I forget I even cared that much to begin with.

As it stands, I've browsed the sugar-sweet haze of the fondest of cross-feminine wishes and I've discerned the common threads that connect them in the most telling of ways. Let's see, what shall we start with...?

Clothes

Yep, it's a gimme.  Duh!  Of course, one of the first things a crossdreamer begins to fantasize about is the wearing of clothes.  We saw the women we wished we could be, noting first off how uniquely & expressively feminine their apparel makes them, how their choice of fashion seemed to accentuate the way they felt as women... ohh, yes, just the first stop on a long train ride into Girl World! At this point, it wouldn't be long before we next started envying their hair, their nails, the way they got to wear makeup and jewelry and have pierced ears.

"Wait, what?  I can't dress like that?  Walk like that, talk like that, do any of those things because of the way I was born?  Wow, SO not fair!!!"  But them's social rules, and to fight them you'd have to break them.  With the line drawn thusly and you choosing sides, life becomes so much more difficult - no matter which side you pick!  Become an outcast among your family and friends, or live in quiet desperation.

If only someone loved you for you.  If only there were someone who liked the feminine you...

Accomplices

If only... that girl - the one who likes to wear skirts a lot, and does her bangs in this cute way you've envied ever since she walked into the same class you've been taking together - if only she knew how badly you wanted to be female.  If anyone could teach you how to look your best and put together dynamite outfits and go shopping with you, it'd be someone like her.  And if you didn't think she'd shriek and make a disgusted face and embarrass you in front of everyone after you managed to find the guts to tell her, you both could be friends for life!  Girlfriends, even... maybe?

Ah, well.  Turns out, even the broadest of female minds aren't as interested in our feminine side as we'd like them to be.  Sure, they can be all for gender equality, freedom of expression, tolerance, etc. but unless you're already friends with a lady, in whom you're comfortable confiding, that smart, charismatic fashionista you admire so much isn't usually interested in a relationship with a crossdreamer.  No sense getting all indignant, since after all it is a free country, right?  She's just not that into youuu...'re appreciation for high heeled shoes.

"Well, okay. Then what if I tell my closest girl friends about who I am inside?  Maybe they'll be interested in getting to know me better that way!"  That could work.  Then again, it might blow up in your face, alienating someone who you thought you could trust and sending ripples of awkward emotions in all directions.  But whatever, it's still a dream worth having: girlfriends who share their years of experience with you, coaxing the shy little debutante that you are out of her boy-shell, forming a bond that never feels quite complete unless Little Miss You comes out to play once in awhile. *happy sigh!*

Coercion

The next inevitable phase, and the darker side of "Accomplices."  For some of us (yes, I include myself), this is where we settle for hoping that if we can't get society to accept us as cross-gendered "peers," then they'll appreciate the idea of having us play the part of women against our will.  A bit backwards, I know, but bear with me.

Part of being a woman, from the male perspective, includes degrees of submission.  This is not to say that we trans-people think of women as weak and fragile, bending to the whims of a male-dominated culture... oh, anything but!  Even so - and I'm only going to repeat what I've heard - most women like it that way.  They like being taken care of and having a variety of decisions made on their behalf.  The majority of the ladies in my social circles claim to enjoy take-charge kind of guys.  It's a major turn-on for many women.

Apart from them stand those of us among the gender-variant, who pick up on that submissive vibe and, indulgently, focus on it to the point of training themselves to be not only super-subservient in their feminine persona but also becoming sexually attracted to the idea of being subjugated.  This would seem to oppose the true spirit of feminism, but again, we're at a stage where desperation, social frustration and sexual repression collide at the developmental intersection.

So if you're sure that everyone would just totally freak the hell out if they knew about your secret wardrobe and your desire to step into the role of woman now and again, the only way you're going to get what you want is if someone else gets the same idea - "Wouldn't it be fun if we dressed you as a girl??"

It can happen.  It does happen.

Halloween is a great time for girlfriends to get the mad glint in their eye that says, "My lover, I think it's time you were treated to a fashion makeover."  Consider the fabled Dare (or better yet, the hastily placed Bet!), a spoken contract into that a crossdreamer might enter which, if played right, can place them directly into a binding obligation to allow one or more lady friends to pretty them up to heart's content.

Also, let us not forget the submissive crossdreamer's ultimate dream: Domination.  Believe it or not, there are real, actual people roaming this world who thoroughly enjoy feminizing and controlling people like us.  Herein lies the potential for a win/win scenario.  But... is it worth it?  To trade freedom for the privilege of having a relationship with someone who takes advantage of our every feminine desire and enforces our complete devotion to it?  To many crossdreamers, it certainly is.  Doms, however, aren't what you call "dime a dozen."  They're a special kind of person, and rare enough that they have no use for the myriad desperate cross-dressers throwing themselves at their feet.  That's right, as fantastic as this situation might be it requires ultimate dedication and sacrifice, which kind of defeats the purpose of a fantasy when you can't snap out of it any time you want.  Or... well, I guess that's the point, isn't it?  A fantasy that never ends, whether you want it to or not!?

Anyway, the longer we search the more we learn of the scarcity of people who want to see us en femme.  It's depressing.  Most of us are dreamers, however, and we're not prone to giving up.  So we tune the channels of our imagination to more fanciful stations, giving up on reality altogether and letting our hearts run free...

Magical Mystery

"Screw waiting around for my girlfriend to dress me up in her clothes and make me go with her friends to the movies!  If I had three wishes from a magic lamp, I wouldn't have to wait..."

Eventually, the fantasy/sci-fi lover in all of us takes the helm of our daydreams, wielding a map with definite borders, which we then sail right over into the bright, yawning sky of impossibility.  Maybe this is a euphemism for "settling" but... whatever.  Since we're waiting around thinking of ways for the ridiculously unlikely to occur, we may as well step on the gas.  Twists of fate, wishing wells, gypsy curses, wizard spells.  Well, damn, let's throw a little pretend science in there, what say?  What if I got hit by an alien ray that amplifies my bosoms, makes all my boy hair fall out, and raises my voice into a tremulous womanly pitch?  Or... Oh! How about I wake up one day and my wife and I have swapped physical genders?  Yeah, baby!  If I'm going to live the life of desperation, it'll be TO THE HILT.**

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

/big breath/  Alrighty, then.  That's the way I see it.  I do enjoy breaking things down and categorizing them according to characteristics, so this has been fun and enlightening for me.  Hopefully you got something out of it.

For my next post, I'll toss up several examples of my own fantasies, correlating to the subjects listed above.  Feel free to follow my lead.

~HCP

* come on, don't try to pretend this doesn't actually happen
** eventually, this may lead to voluntary cosplay, a valid form of expression in certain circles where cross-dressing is commonplace, perhaps ultimately a back door one might take which leads to the kind of peace we're all looking for (but don't quote me)

Behind Closed Doors, Pt. 1 "The Basics"

This week I made a happy discovery - it's so much easier to take down Christmas decorations in high heels, especially the tree ornaments!  Which leaves me wondering whether there was more to doing the shopping and housework in all-day heels than American Moms in the 40s and 50s originally let on.  Was it just to keep up appearances, or did they find it so much easier to reach items on high shelves with an extra 3-inch boost?  Not that I ever needed an excuse to wear them, myself, but there are perks.

Tuesday was my first opportunity of the new year to score some badly needed girl time, and I grabbed it with both hands.  I love Christmas, but...wow, what a terrible holiday this year.   I don't mean it wasn't fun (because it was... well, most of it) but December came on a little strong, like a red-faced uncle who finishes off the spiced punch before the rest of us have a second cup, and then he decides to make you open his presents before you've even sat down to dinner so he can bring up how much money he spent.  wOoG!...I apologize for dumping that ugly metaphor on you, but here's a short summary of our holiday woes:

1. Fruitless last-minute shopping
2. A small, precious window of time that did not include every family member in a hundred mile radius
3. Death

Not necessarily in that order.  So when I say I really needed to kick it en femme, you have some idea.  At work, where the majority of my co-staff are female, the Nudge was pretty persistent.  All day long I kept inadvertently stumbling into a little pocket of imagination where my feminine intimations like to abide.  I surrendered when I got home, on condition that I'd have an adequate slice of time to myself.  That's something I promised myself last year, after struggling with obsession...No getting dressed up unless you get to enjoy it. An hour isn't worth it; two is good for when I'm desperate; three to four will tide me over 'til the next full moon, if it's done right.

"So," I hear you ask, "what's the point?  What do you get out of it?"  That's one hell of an excellent question.  But let's start with...

The Basics of Closet Cross-Dressing

When you have a secret desire and only have the rarest of moments to indulge your fancies without being discovered, you begin to treat those moments with a strange respect, an idyllic privilege.  This is where rituals are born, and in the case of the closeted CD (cross-dresser, to abbreviate) each one is different (so far that I've learned, comparing various online testimonials).

There are several constant variables in the stay-at-home CD's ritual:

• Premeditated decision to set aside time for "temporary role transition" - This is simply the inner girl getting stiff and antsy and trying to claw her way out of the public persona she's been cooped up in for so long.  Like many genuine females, her moods are unpredictable and her demands are high.
• Scheduling to ensure privacy, maintain secrecy, and fortify security - Most of us give reign to our alternate gender personas in solitude, due to obvious reasons.  Some of us are very good at it.  Some of us also have horror stories to tell, like when our bedroom locks suddenly don't work, or getting trapped in the bathroom when our parents drive up to the house an hour before schedule.
• Attentive, meaningful selection of wardrobe - We only get to "go girl" every blue moon, never as often as we like, so what we get to wear for the few hours of freedom we scrounge truly matters.  Some, for example, are wild about heels, so the outfits they choose will focus on the shoes.  Some would rather wrap themselves in an intimate ensemble, replete with teddy, garters and silken robes.  It totally depends on the mood.  "What kind of woman am I today?"  Close friends and family of CDs may surely notice a trend in the style of clothes they prefer, notably the kind most women would only wear out on hot dates. ~~ NOTE:  Many of us own alternate wardrobes filled with elaborate, extra feminine apparel.  Truly, women don't usually slink about the home in corsets, spike heels and LBDs (unless they're characters on "Desperate Housewives") but the CD isn't trying to establishing a fundamental lifestyle.  She's cramming a ton of carpe diem into a fraction of the time she actually wishes she had to live like a woman.  We might spend more time in flannel pajamas and fuzzy socks if there wasn't so little time to wear the sexy stuff too.
• Adornment - It goes without saying that if we go to the trouble of laying out clothes then we'll probably put them on...if for nothing else than it'd otherwise be a pointless waste of time.  But, to me at least, there's something gratifying about the time it takes to don my female raiment.  I enjoy satisfaction at competently snapping garters over nylons, pulling hose up my leg without shredding them with my toenails, or actually doing my hair in a way that looks pretty, and like I meant to.

What comes next for the poor, lonely closet CD, all dressed up and no place to go?  I mean, what do you do with yourself?  That's entirely unique for each of us.  Some like to interact with their peers on the internet.  Other like to engage in typically feminine activities, i.e. curling up with a romantic comedy, creative craft-making, cooking.  It doesn't meet particular standards to watch a baseball game while dressed like one of the player's wives who sit in the stands (though, ironically, it's easy to forget how much more in common we have with today's Genetic Girls (GGs), hundreds of thousands of whom are becoming big time sports fans converts).

Quite frankly, as far as I'm concerned, it's being able to live the same way I do every day, only with a different mindset.  Which is why last Tuesday I wore a form-fitting body suit and tights, had a half hour workout on the Wii, slipped on a pair of slingback heels and swishy skirt, my hair pinned back in double pony-tails, and did my chores.  I chose to stop treating my life as though there were two worlds vying for control.  Though I'm still closeted, and although I still can't entice my wife to get to know the other me any better than she does now, from now on I'm not two minds, but one.  Even if I'm the only one who notices.

~HCP