There are times when you realise how little can separate presenting as male and presenting as female.
Last night saw the regular Swindon TG Group meeting. I was traveling from my parents place and picking someone up, so I had to get as ready as I could while still retaining a male presentation, then throw on the final touches before the final leg to Swindon.
So, wash and blow-dry my hair, put on a pair of girly jeans, a pair of Boxfresh shoes which are pretty unisex, and stick with a bloke T-shirt advertising a well-known British online forum for owners of dodgy old cars. Hey Presto! Bloke.
Bloke, that is, with a hairstyle that I'm amazed people register as male when blow-dried, and whose complete absence of beard now makes a lot of the make-up I used to wear unnecessary.
So when the time came to change, I found I'd left my girly top at home. Damn. Girl in a dodgy old car T-shirt ain't gonna work. I'm not a 5'4" natal girl capable of wearing her boyfriend's T-shirt as a dress with a belt over leggings. So off to Swindon I went as the scruffy bloke. Annoying, but not insurmountable.
But there it was, the difference between boy and girl distilled down to a slightly different top, a mildly padded bra, and a little bit of make-up. OK, and a necklace.
I never thought this would happen. And now it has, I rather wish it hadn't. Somehow this has all become a little too easy, which in its own way makes things a little difficult.
Never mind. On a lighter note, I dug out my old Nokia cameraphone earlier in the day, because it has a far better camera than my regular Motorola. One of the first pictures I took with it was one of an ant receiving a free lunch. I didn't realise how much I'd missed it, so seduced had I been by apps.