Sunday, 28 March 2010

Flying too close to the flame

    A morning shopping. Every girl's dream, you'd think. All the shops of the High Street there before us, my wife and I with a few hours to kill in a strange city before our train home. We didn't buy anything, save for a kitchen essential from a department store, but we spent a long time in that not buying anything and we saw a lot of shops.
    I'm lucky to be able to go shopping with my wife. It's something we can do together that we both enjoy, and it gives me access to a world that would otherwise be closed to me. I play the Dutiful Husband to a T, following her through the rails, carrying her prospective purchases and holding her coat and bag while she disappears into the fitting room. If anyone has ever noticed that occasionally one of the things she buys that she doesn't try on is many sizes too large for her, then nobody's said anything.
    Yet for all that it's something I can never be part of. I'm better off than the red-faced blokes wishing the earth would swallow them up as their other half peruses the underwear, but even then I'm still an island of drab in a sea of colour. Sometimes, as yesterday, this gets to me and I come away from the experience depressed instead of on the high I should be, and yet again as yesterday my low mood gets to my wife and affects her too.
    This time it was  standing outside the fitting room that did it. A large party of women were there, I think they were shopping for outfits for a wedding, and they were all so happy. From the attractive twenty-something in the green number to the beaming short fat middle-aged lady who looked for all the world like a boldly rose-printed tea-cosy, they were there to have fun and it showed. And for the first time, while waiting for my wife to emerge having tried on the orange dress that turned out not to fit as she'd hoped, I wished I could have been anywhere else.
    Like a moth near a candle flame, I can perform several orbits of the light that fascinates me. But eventually, as yesterday, I'm going to pass too close to it and get singed. Unlike the moth though, in time I'll come back for more.

9 comments:

  1. Sorry to hear that it didn't go well for you yesterday. I was gong to ask if you at least got something - maybe I should read posts more thoroughly :)

    Stace

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  2. I remember moments like that, and it hurts to recall them. I hope you work things out. Or that things work out.

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  3. I used to date a girl who knew I was a tranny. She wasn't in to it, but it didn't bother her one way or the other. She dragged me along shopping all the time as a boy.

    But, sometimes, every once in a while, she would pull me in the dressing room with her, and have me try on something she had grabbed off the rack that she thought I would look good in.

    Actually, that wasn't as much fun as it sounds; I don't know why.

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  4. Thanks all.

    PITA girl shopping downer moment behind me now. Patched up resulting minor feud with wife. It really helps to have tea-cosy lady to focus on for that particular episode because she makes me laugh about it.

    @Jamie: Can't see Mrs. J doing that, sadly. Probably fortunately, thinking about it :)

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  5. I know exactly how you feel and I always feel the same myself. Strangly, the more I dress as Angie the more it hurts to be the bloke outside the fitting rooms.

    On Saturday I went to a wedding and came face-to-face with the fruits of all that 'fitting room fun'. It can really turn a happy day into a sad one for us t-girls.

    Sorry to sound so mournful. I've cheered up now :)

    Hugs,
    Angie xx

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  6. Oh don't, I used to work in the wedding business for a while. In cross-dressing terms I've always drawn a line between clothing and costume and stayed on the clothing side so despite mild temptation I've never owned a wedding gown. The thought of someone of my stature doing the full-on meringue is one probably best left alone. Working in the business was definitely not flying too close to the flame but slowly roasting within it at times.

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  7. A moth near a candle...

    Does that mean we will all go up in flames?

    I have, many times, waited outside the fitting rooms. I know the feeling, Jenny.

    Calie xxx

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  8. Certainly get a little smoky round the edges :)

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