Sunday, 13 June 2010

Must be my sister or something

     I've got the stature to be a drag queen, but not the Yubaba wig. Yesterday afternoon was spent sitting in a park in my home town having a picnic with a few local t-girls and flying a very small metaphorical flag at our local LGBT Pride. A sort of LGBt, if you see what I mean. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, especially the police officers because their other choice was an animal rights demo on the other side of town.
     It was a bit too close to home for my wife's comfort zone so I was there as my day-to-day unremarkable bloke. Stubble and scruffy. Come four o'clock I made my excuses and left, I had a bit of preparation to do because yesterday evening was my local support group meeting. Attending in full-on seven foot guise thanks to the folks at Le Dame and going the distance, demonstrating standing on one leg, even toc-toc-tocing across the floor. My proving ground found at last! I have to admit though, changing into a pair of trainers afterwards was blessed relief.
     You know you've made a success of your female presentation when someone who knows you in bloke mode but has never seen you as girl genuinely doesn't realise who you are. Even when you've spent the afternoon with them and announced that you'll see them in the evening at the support group. Yes, I'm pretty sure she was genuinely surprised. Made my evening, it did.


13 comments:

  1. It's amazing what a difference in one's appearance a wig and some makeup can make. I don't think any of the girls in my support group would recognize me, if they saw me out on the street in male mode.

    Happy to hear you found some shoes that work for you.

    Melissa XX

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  2. The make-up, poise and just being yourself will make you really unrecognisable. I am sure that Mrs. Jenny will realise that soon. Her misgivings are understandable, it is just so hard to accept that it can happen until you see that it does. I used to think the same until I saw myself in the mirror. I take the bus from outside my house into town on occasion, no one suspects who I am - but then I am only 6'10"!

    Suzie x

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  3. I recall two jolts of recognition, or failure in- once when my headspace was somewhere else and I caught a glimpse of my (at the time still male) self in the mirror and I looked at them as at a stranger... the other time it was the other way round, as it were. Funny business.

    Good on you for flying the flag.

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  4. Thanks everyone.

    I think I've achieved my aim of looking as though I've made an effort. And yes, it feels damn good! Another brick falls away from that particular wall.

    The scary thing about looking at myself in the mirror is not that I don't recognise myself or that it doesn't feel right, of course it does, but that I catch more than a glimpse of my sister. Not surprising, but a slight shock nevertheless.

    The Pride picnic seemed to work best in diplomacy terms by attracting gay-owned dogs to its promise of food. No dischord amongst the humans but at times it seemed as if we were an a field of scrapping pooches rather than LGBt people.

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  5. As an addendum to my earlier comment, I notice as I sit here at work that I have a significant amount of pale pink nail polish left that has escaped the solvent on a couple of fingers. What the hell, just flaunt it!

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  6. Jenny,

    When dressed, bewigged, and made up,I too look a lot like my sister. In fact, when I finally revealed my pictures to her, she even said I looked a lot like her. I felt so proud of myself, when she said that! You should feel proud too, Jenny!

    Melissa XX

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  7. To avoid insulting her good looks I should remind you I said I catch a glimpse of my sister. I wouldn't quite go as far as to say I could be mistaken for her. :)

    It's something around the eyes.

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  8. Count your blessings. I looked at my 50th birthday photo and thought, "Blimey I look like my grandma".

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  9. Don't worry Dru, I'm sure that day will come to me.

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  10. I've found the reverse is also true. For the longest time, the members of my support group in Virginia had only ever seen me in my feminine guise. I started helping out with various activities which necessitated my appearing in male garb. The first few outings, no one recognized me at first.

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  11. No such luck for me with most people, I'm too distinctive.

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  12. She didn't know you, but did she hit on you?

    Nice post. Glad you're doing well, girl.

    At least you can look at yourself in the mirror. In those very rare instances when I am with makeup and a wig, I cannot stand to look at myself. Nothing will ever make it right except f/t with all of the necessary cosmetic enhancements and, even then, I'll probably still see the bloke in the mirror.

    Calie xxx

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  13. Fortunately not, for a start Mrs. J was with me :)

    I think I am aided in my mirror-gazing by my unexpected glimpse of my sister, it allows me to see beynd the bloke-in-a-dress to something of the girl.

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