hausboy -> RE: The Transgender Thread (11/22/2011 8:39:37 PM)
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I agree with you Gwen... I cross-dressed for several years but did not identify with or as a transvestite. With one exception... and I think I may have shared this on CM about a year ago but what the hell, it's the Transgender Thread, I'll share it again. It's a doozy. It's a tangent, but has to do with cross-dressing... Back in SF (I think it was around 93) my former Master was an incredible woman who could do stunning high femme one night...and fierce butch the next. She was involved in an extremely serious motorcycle accident. The whole leatherdyke community rallied by her and took care of her affairs, nursing, you name it. She was re-admitted to the hospital for complications, and I knew she was feeling really down and needed a little lift. It was the night of a big women's play party, so I had a feeling that most of everybody was going to head to the party that night, leaving her alone in the hospital. So .... says me...I should do something..... special. Something to show her how much I care...something to really demonstrate that her comfort was more important than mine. And in my little reptilian brain, I decide....CROSSDRESSING....but as a woman! Don't ask me why I had it, but it was early enough in my youth that I left ONE female outfit in my closet. Picture this: a black leather mini-skirt, little black go-go boots (with fringe, no less), an oversized women's fashion belt with little studs and rivets, and the crown jewel..... a bright red mid-length jacket full of zippers a la Michael Jackson's era. Yes. It was hideous. I walked to the Castro and bought a pair of black fishnets, forgetting one important detail about pantyhose.... you have to shave your legs first. My legs in those hose looked like a pair of cactus. Well, THAT was a problem. I didn't own a razor, and even if I did....I hadn't a clue how to shave my legs. So me being a clever butch dyke, I took the clippers I used to shave my mohawk, and voila! instant shaved legs. A few clip-on earrings fromWalgreens (it was san fran, after all)...and I head off to the hospital on the Muni (metro train). Now mind you, I'm EXTREMELY self-conscious, because on the surface, I don't really "look" cross-dressed. I mean, I *was* female, so wearing women's clothing shouldn't have been a big deal. But to me, it seemed like the whole damn train was staring at me, somehow *knowing* that I was cross-dressed and that it was absolutely humiliating for me. In truth, it wasn't my imagination. Two gay men boarded the train, and kept whispering to each other and giggling. Mini-skirt or not, I was still a butch, and I walked up to the two of them, got in their faces, and said, "What's yer problem? Ain't ya ever seen a cross-dresser before? It's san francisco forchrissake!" They replied, "Oh, honey, we seen plenty in our time. But you are an absolute 80's nightmare! Whoever this is for, I hope she's worth it. Work it, girl!" Sigh. Critiqued by snap queens, my humiliation was nearly complete. I head up to her unit, and find out she's being "walked" with her IV pole...the nurse invited me to wait at the charge nurse's desk. As she rounds the corner and approaches me, I see her looking down at my boots, and then I followed her eyes as she worked her way up my legs (I used to have great legs, by the way) and then eventually, to my face. When she realized it was me, she literally clutched her chest and almost fell backwards, the nurse catching her and yelling for help as she thought her patient was in distress. When N. started laughing, the nurses all turned to look at me...as she choked out the words: "Oh my god.... I don't know what drugs you guys gave me...but they are working! You would NOT believe the hallucination that I'm having" She tried to explain to the nurses why she reacted so, the nurses commented, "this explains a lot actually...we really couldn't figure out what she...wait...he...wait... uh...what your... friend... was dressed up as..." In the end, she was very touched (esp by the leg shaving), and I was just glad no one I knew saw me. The whole outfit was quite fittingly, donated to my nextdoor neighbor, an adorable, slim, short crossdresser who informed me the week after that my skirt got him laid, which is certainly more than it ever did for me. Taking the train home that night, dressed like that, was one of the scariest experiences I ever had in that city...
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