Monday, 11 May 2009

Windsor walkabout

The past weekend was busy, but a lot of fun.

At the Surrey Swans meeting at the end of April we had plotted a trip to Pink Punters for 9th May.

Quite a while back I’d asked Tina if she fancied a Saturday walkabout in Windsor sometime.

Early last week Tina emailed to say that Saturday was free .. so how about it.

And so midday Saturday was Windsor walkabout with Tina. Saturday evening Pink Punters with Laura. My longest ever tgirl day, I think … Sparkle 2008 came close … but a night at Pink Punters is a long night.

Preparations begin on Friday evening.

Bath and shave. Only minor little cuts. No nipple-nicks at all. The telephone rings twice during all this, of course.

Pink nail polish.

The day began at about 8:30. The usual kind of tgirl routine … for me anyways.

Teeth. Shower. Shave. Baby oil. I know … I’m no babe … but it softens the skin … or so it says on the label. Pat a pat dry. Deodorant. Moisturiser. Red Door … perfume that is.

Pack the suitcase for Pink Punters.

This is still an oddity. For a single night out, the male me would pack clothing that fitted in a tiny suitcase.

Andrea selects the largest suitcase.

I think I know exactly what I’ll wear.

But … just in case.

A dress. A skirt. Two blouses. Two pairs of shoes. Black stockings. Black tights. Tan stockings. Tan tights. Enough for a spider. Several bras and pairs of panties.

Dressing for walkabouts.

Panties and tights.

Bra and boobs.

Girlie trousers.

Eye lashes. A few weeks ago I bought an eyelash curler. This is described as resembling a medieval instrument of torture by Video Jug.

I squeeze the handles together gently, having read the warning that it might hurt if I attempt to curl my eyelids.

In case you are wondering …  the warning could safely omit the word might.

Foundation. Powder. Brush.

Light shadow. Darker shadow. Liquid liner at the top. Pencil at the bottom, brushed a little to smooth the edges.

Clean off the little spots of liquid liner that get onto my upper eyelid.

Touch up the shadow.

Lengthener … or is it thickener … and mascara on bottom lashes.

Thickener … or is it lengthener … and mascara on the top lashes. They must have curled a bit because it seems harder to miss the eyelids than usual.

Eyebrows … a thin line of shadow.


Lip liner. Lipstick. Gloss.





Earrings. Watch. Bracelet.

All ready… Billie always laughs at how long it takes me.


Hoping that it’s not the postman I open the door.

It’s Tina.

Soon we’re ready.

Off and on during the week I’d wondered if I was going to feel nervous about this all. In fact, all is calm.

I can walk to the car slowly these days.

The car park proves to be the most frustrating part of the day.

Residents of the Royal Borough (that is, people that live in Windsor and Maidenhead) are given a little plastic card. The plastic card offers free entry to Windsor Castle … at least parts of it … and reduced parking charges in some car parks.

The man in front of me at the payment machine at Victoria Street car park seems particularly slow and incompetent.

How could it take anyone so long?

At last.

The machine tells me to insert my card or pay money.

I insert the card.

The machine says: Reading Card … Withdraw card.

I withdraw the card.

Machine says: Error reading card.

The machine tells me to insert my card or pay money.

I insert the card.

The machine says: Reading Card … Withdraw card.

I withdraw the card.

Machine says: Error reading card.

And again

And again.

I can imagine the lady behind me thinking that the blond in front must be particularly slow and incompetent.

How could it take anyone so long?

I insert cash and make a mental note to write a letter to the town council.

Tina and I walk along Victoria Street.

Shoe Fetish is no more.

We take a right at Peascod Street.

We pop in to Daniels and then Marks & Spencer.

At the top of Peascod street we head left, then left again into the station area.

We head for Cafe Rouge and the waiter guides us to a table for two.

The waitress has served Andrea a few times in the past … and also my male alter ego. So far as I know, no connections have been made.

The Salade Thon  is very good, along with a Hoegaaden beer.

The atmosphere here is fine. People know, I’m sure, that we are tgirls but people don’t stare or make us feel uncomfortable or unwelcome. It’s great.

A short walk to the Castle and photo opportunities. The policemen are reassuringly disinterested.

Here is Tina at the gateway:


And Andrea:


And then … I never knew that there was a dressing service in Windsor.

Two girls give us leaflets explaining how you can dress as an Elizabethan and have your picture taken.

“Can we take pictures with you?” I ask.

“Of course you can … but it costs £1”.

I negotiate £1 for the two of us.

The results:





I was thinking of using the above picture in a Spot the Trannie competition. But I already mentioned that I was wearing girlie trousers.

We walk down Thames Street towards … well … towards the Thames.




We sit by the riverside and chat for quite a while.

Friends. Families. Experiences.

How different people that we know have reacted to the discovery that we are transvestites.

A friend of Tina’s that just cannot deal with it at all. And another that can.

Friends of my daughters. My wife’s sister. People that I talk with online.

Tina told me of a friend that only recently experienced her first makeover and is finding it really hard to not feel deep sadness that it has taken so long discover herself in this way. The friend wishes desperately that it had happened years and years ago.

I empathise. But also, for myself I feel that the timing has worked out ok. Not so long ago the life of a transvestite in public was much harder than it is now. And my wife has adapted to Andrea better than I could ever have imagined. I don’t say thank you enough to her.

All too soon it’s time to head for home.

A walk back to the car park and a short drive.

Tina takes me a little by surprise with a hug and a kiss. I remember that tgirls that I met at Fiona Floyds tended to greet each other like this. It’s a nice girl thing to do and a sweet way to say goodbye or hello.

I had a great time. Relaxed. Unhurried. Great company. And no hassle from anyone at all.

On Wednesday I’ll try and find time to talk a little about the Pink Punter trip with Laura … tomorrow is a TV dinner at Kathie and Billie’s so no time to blog at all.

No comments: