Personal Shopping at House of Fraser, Guildford

At the end of August I went along to a Womenswear evening at the House of Fraser store in Guildford as mentioned here.
Amanda had been chatting with Chloe (the Guildford store manager) and had come up with the idea that girls that go along to Surrey Swans might be interested in a Personal Shopping Experience.
September 16th is the date.
Myself, Amanda, Susie, Paula and Chloe (a different Chloe than the Guildford store manager) are the girls.
I collect sizes and clothing preferences from the girls and email them to Chloe (the Guildford store manager). These are passed on to Vida and Julie.
The plan for the afternoon is complimentary prosecco, a few hours of no obligation to buy anything clothing sampling and an hour devoted to makeup and cosmetics.
I arrive at Caffè Nero on the first floor of the store at just before 11:30 am. A trip to the right-next-door washroom later and I see Paula in line for coffee.
We sit and chat.
Amanda arrives.
I send a text to Chloe and Susie.
There is no mobile phone signal.
And then there is.
It’s about noon as we take the escalator to the ladieswear second floor where the personal shopping suite is located.
Chloe is there already.
Julie says hello and introduces us to Vida. Amanda has met them several times before. I’ve met them once before.
Susie arrives.
The suite has been recently refurbished.
A glass of prosecco.
Julie has selected some things for Paula and Chloe.
Vida has done the same for Susie, Amanda and me.
Dresses and skirts and blouses and coats come off and go on. Come off and go on. Come off and go on.
I like the dress. Vida looks and goes to get the smaller size. The smaller does fit better.
As things come off and go on there’s a dress and blouse that I like.
Vida and Julie offer advice without pressure. Assist with zips. Manoeuvre between the shopping suite and the shop floor getting alternatives.
The only really challenging thing is the tendency that a wig has to come off in sympathy with blouses and dresses.
Amanda, Chloe, Susie and Paula make their own selections.
Lauren, from, Clinique arrives with samples.
Susie volunteers.
Eyes and lips with hints and tips and explanations.
No pressure to buy.
Afterwards we chat. The consensus is that whatever we had expected from the day, the actual experience exceeded our expectations.
Heading for the car park, the alarm sounds as I leave the store. My thoughts return to a visit to the washroom at the end of October.
The security man smiles helpfully.
I wiggle my House of Fraser bag of clothes at the sensor. Nothing happens.
I wiggle my handbag. The siren wails.
I smile. I shrug.
He smiles. He shrugs.
I offer him a look into my handbag.
A quick inspection and he wishes me on my way.
My thoughts on the whole experience?
I think it is great that the people at House of Fraser in Guildford are so welcoming, friendly and accepting.
I felt that to them I was a person. A fellow human being.
I didn’t feel that they saw me as a trans person. I was simply a person.
And, for me, that is just exactly how it should be.
The thing … well one of the many things really … that I find so positive is that they made the effort to reach out and make it known that I was welcome just as me. As who I am.
It was clear that I, as a person, am welcome at the store at any time. If I need advice on clothing or on cosmetics then they are ready to help. I don’t need to be embarrassed or shy about it.
I know that I am also a potential customer and that it’s possible to argue that it would make no business sense at all for a store to make me feel uncomfortable. But there are businesses around that don’t see things that way.
So, for me, the afternoon was another step along the way. Each experience like this adds to my own sense of personal acceptance and confidence.
Chloe, Julie, Vida and Lauren have, in their own way, made a positive contribution to the lives of myself, Susie, Paula, Chloe and Amanda. And it’s by making differences to individuals that differences are made to societies.
Small days like this can make a big difference.
Here are a few pictures:

Andrea and Paula:

Susie sampling a dress:

Lauren touching up Susie’s eyes:

Shop Assistants, Surgeons, Gender, Science Fiction and Artificial Intelligence

Several weeks ago a friend said that she was recently shopping in a pretty well know UK store when an assistant at the store referred to her as Sir. This, obviously, wasn’t a good experience and she recounted the incident on social media. She was surprised to be contacted by the store and was invited to meet with the store manager who offered apologies and coffee and promised to take actions to help ensure that similar incidents don’t happen in the future.

More recently I also heard of an incident where a surgeon at a hospital consistently referred to a trans patient as he even though the patient was clearly presenting as female. After the surgeon had left, a newly qualified doctor spent quite a while apologising for the surgeon’s behaviour.

There seems a strange irony in this. A commercial world where senior people are anxious to ensure that everyone,including junior workers, deals with trans people with curtesy. And a part of the National Health Service where junior doctors are left apologising for the discourtesy shown by senior colleagues.

I know that the whole gender thing can become complicated. But, a person presenting as female probably wishes to be referred to as she. A person presenting as male probably wishes to be referred to as he. This isn’t the whole story, I know. Some people prefer gender-neutral words. But it is never more complex than simply asking a person what there preference is and then having the courtesy to go along with their wishes.

I recently read a trilogy of Sci-Fi books by Anne Leckie (Ancillary Justice, Ancillary Sword and Ancillary Mercy). They are amongst the most enjoyable books that I’ve ever read, so if you have a chance I recommend reading them. In the future presented by these books gender is something that is significantly less significant than it is today. People are generally referred to as she regardless of gender. People dress as they wish, regardless of gender They wear makeup as they wish, regardless of gender. And in a curious kind of way AI (Artificial Intelligence) is presented in a way that shows a potential for love that exceeds the way that people sometimes behave.

Sparkle 2010 – Saturday

A thing I forgot to mention that happened on Friday afternoon as Tina and I were walking along Canal Street. A girl stopped and asked if I could help tie the shoulder strap of her dress together … her partner was standing there looking a little helpless … she said he was useless at that kind of thing. We talked a little while and the shoulder strap was fastened in almost no time.

It’s kind of nice how some girls just sort of accept us as girls.

10:00 am and time to get up.

Shave, shower, teeth, makeup and dress.

The plan is to breakfast at Weatherspoons – we just have to get there by mid day.

Laura and Billie say they’ll meet us in a while.

We’re just about finished eating when we discover that Billie and Laura maybe drank a little more than we thought last night.

Ring … ring.

“Hi Laura.”

“Hi Andrea. Err ... which way do you turn when you leave the hotel to get to Weatherspoons?”

“Turn right … walk a hundred yards or so and it’s on the right.”

“Oh … we went the wrong way. See you in a few minutes.”

Just a few minutes later they arrive. We head for the Arndale Centre to do a little shopping.

We wander around Primark a while. Then H & M.

Do you like the shades?

 

There’s a man walking from side to side across the paved area.

Bible in hand.

Reading.

Condemning all kinds of things.

The term Sodomite is included in what he is reading.

And he’s not saying anything nice.

At first I walk on by.

But I can’t go on just leaving what he is saying unchallenged.

I walk towards him … but his head is in his Bible so I don’t think he sees me coming.

I put my arm around his shoulders and say … “Brother … you are wrong.”

He’s a little surprised.

“Do you believe that God is Holy?” he asks me.

“If God is there … I think He loves people more than you give Him credit for.” I reply.

“But do you believe that God is Holy?”

I look, and feel, sad.

We only talk for a few moments.

I guess that to him, Andrea is just as much an abomination as as the sodomites that he has been reading about. Though he doesn’t say this, and he doesn’t look appalled.

There are people standing close by.

I ask if they agree with what he’s saying.

“Nooooooo they say.”

They say they find it difficult to see how God could cope with such people in Heaven.

To some extent I feel that I know where the preacher is coming from.

There was a time … a long time ago … when I stood in front of a microphone in the Town Hall Square in Rochdale and gave Bible Readings and little sermons.

The emphasis though was, I think, on God’s love rather than His judgement.

But I know that the preacher was doing what he thought was right.

I guess that he believes that TV’s, TS’s, gay people … the unconverted … are travelling along the wide road that leads to Hell and he wants to help rescue them.

He’s doing what he does because he cares.

But, I believe that the place that he is starting from is wrong.

And good intentions don’t make a thing right.

We passed by a little later and I took a few pictures. He smiled and said he hoped that I’d caught his good side. Actually, it’s hard to find a good side to what he was saying. There he is on the right.

 

I don’t feel angry at him … though I do feel sad.

I’m glad that not all Christians have the same overly narrow minded view of God. There are churches that accept Gay and transgendered folk.

In trying to work out what passage he was reading from I Googled around a little. There are a lot of people with views that are, to me at any rate, appalling. Truly appalling.

In a strange way, though, the event is somewhat liberating for me. I’m past the stage where I feel that as a transvestite I’m compelled to fade into the background. Little by little I’m gaining the confidence to just be myself … and … if need be … to assert to other people that I have the right to be myself.

Having said that … it was a safe kind of environment to do. He may have had problems with accepting gay people’s right to be gay … but he was hardly likely to start being abusive or violent. There are other places and times where it is better not to be noticed.

We pop into Evans … a girl wanders over to us and asks “Is Sparkle this weekend?”

Well … we certainly aren’t hoodwinking everyone into thinking we are girls.

But for me that’s ok … I’m not actually a girl ... I’m a transvestite and I’m ok with that.

We have a nice little chat with her.

Next stop is a cafe for a bite to eat for Laura (who had not had breakfast) and coffee, Sprite or water for the rest of us.

Tina is on the lookout for some perfume so we begin searching for a Boots store.

A girl walks towards us … “Hey girls …. you all look great!” she smiles.

It’s strange … how differently people react.

She tells us where to find Boots … just out the exit and across the street.

Inside the store, we are handed lots and lots and lots of samples by the girls on the cosmetics counters.

Slowly we meander back towards the Canal Street area and head for Sackville Gardens, where the afternoon show takes place.

We take a look around the various stalls. Several Police forces are represented:

A lady at an NHS (National Health Service) stall asks me if I’d mind answering a few questions. They’re collecting information about transgendered people’s experiences of the NHS. So I answer some questions.

Lots of people seem to be selling wigs. A few are selling boobs. Cosmetics. Clothing.

At one stall a girl says “We’ve changed the prices … everything is just £1. Well … everything apart from me. I’m 50 pence” she winks.

There’s music … January is the only non TG performer. Here she is with the Pink Punters bus in the background.

We head for Eden again … there it is in the background to the left, with Tina in the foreground.

 

And again, with Andrea in the foreground:

A few longboats sail down the canal … stopping to pass through the locks.

I just kind of rested up against a lock gate.

 

And then back to the park to watch the Tranny of the Year presentation.

And here you go … a bit of January singing and Tranny of the Year:

 

It’s a little curious that there is a sign at the entrance to Sackville Gardens explaining that you had better not drink alcohol in there.

Today, of course, as well as representatives from three police forces there is also a bar and the alcohol is flowing. But not much sign of anyone getting drunk.

Eventually Tina and I head for the hotel to get changed for the Sparkle Ball.

As we head in we meet Laura and Billie who are two hours early. They head for the bar. We head for the hotel room.

Everything gets renewed.

A little over an hour … well … quite a bit over an hour … later we head for the lift (elevator). and here I am.

 

And here’s Tina:

The receptionist telephones for a taxi … it’s not actually very far to where the Ball is … unless you have heels … then everywhere is very far.

The taxi arrives within a few minutes and here we are a little later:

And a passer by:

 

And eventually we head back towards Canal Street … rather slowly and carefully and call in at the Via bar for a couple of drinks.

And all to soon it’s time to wash the makeup off … sleep … and be a guy again.

I did enjoy the weekend a lot.

Roll on Sparkle 2011!

Cholesterol and Hell

I’ve booked tickets at Party on the Lawn (http://www.partyonthelawn.co.uk/) and so will get a chance to see Chris While and Julie Matthews play live. Sally and my elder daughter (now, doesn’t that sound a little over-formal?) are coming along as well. It’s a noon until midnight affair and it looks good to me. The more I listen to their music, the more I like it.

Over the past few weeks there’s been a Surrey Swans get-together, a buffet at Kathie & Billie’s and a trip out shopping and dining in Windsor.

I timed things not-too-well for the buffet. Cutting a long story short … I ended up with my annual-ish blood cholesterol test sample needing to be taken from my arm the morning after the buffet … and I had to fast for fourteen hours. So Andrea had to sit and watch everyone else eating the wonderful food and just take an occasional sip of water.

When I got to see Nurse Nicky the next morning … as I rolled up my sleeve I said I’d be looking the other way … the sight of my own blood makes me faint. She quipped back … that’s fine … I’ll look the other way as well.

The trip to Windsor was with Billie. It was the usual kinda thing. In and out of shops and lunch at Cafe Rouge. I bought some food at Marks and Spencer’s and some nail polish and moisturiser at Boots.

The election is approaching and a lady handed me a Labour party leaflet. I had a little chat with a man that was selling … or maybe giving away books about some kind of spirituality and meditation. He seemed nice enough, but it was one of those conversations that opened with the question “Have you thought about what happens after we die?”.

Well, I have. Quite a lot over the years.

I’ve journeyed from childhood faith through atheism, born again Christian and then to agnostic and now … a part of me would like to believe … but mostly I’m not able to. It all doesn’t make sense to me.

As I was chatting with the man, Billie explained that she was a totally committed atheist.

I’m not at all sure what I am … but if there is a God I hope that he or she is different that the one that I used to believe in. I believed in the all loving and all forgiving kind of God that evangelical Christians believe in. But in the final analysis it also meant that I believed that it was likely that the vast majority of people that had ever lived would spend eternity in hell.

Whatever is true … I hope that it’s something different than that.

That first ever shopping trip as Andrea seems along time ago now.

It’s nice that to step outside as a feminine me seems more and more natural as time passes.

Another trip to Windsor

Saturday December 12th. Sally wakes me at about 8:45 as she sets off to play in a golf match.

Coffee, shower, shave, underwear, makeup and clothing.

Billie arrives at round about 11:00 and we set off for a trip out to Windsor.

Driving into town I’m struck by how thoughts, feelings and fears change as time passes.

Once, not so very long ago, driving around as Andrea in the daylight was a very self-conspicuous kind of thing to do. These days it feels comfortable.

After parking, the first port of call is the Post Office. Last week I ordered some computer memory for a friend and no one was home to sign for it when it arrived on Friday.

Of course, the man at the post office needed to see ID. The picture on the card is kinda fuzzy – but the hair definitely looks a lot different than Andrea’s hair. But he asks no questions and doesn’t look horrified.

Wandering along Peascod Street we call in at Fenwick’s. In the window there is a sign advertising “Pricilla Queen of the Desert”. Makes us feel at home, if somewhat underdressed for the occasion.

Lunch at Cafe Rouge. As always it’s a relaxed affair. The waiter brings food – but a little mixed up gives us the food destined for the people on the next table. The plates get passed across with a few smiles. Again, no looks of horror, or even especially of surprise. No one in the restaurant pays us much attention at all even allowing for our “deep” voices.

The restaurant manager says it’s nice to see us again as he passes by.

I have a shopping list from Sally and so buy some Christmas cards at the British Heart Foundation shop and some more at the Oxfam shop. Two nice glass bead bracelets from the Cancer Research shop (bracelets weren’t actually on the list … but well … I like them).

Then a short walk to Marks and Spencer’s for some food – this was on the list.

The people that I pay tills all say hello and don’t worry at all at the way I look or my rather low pitched voice.

I resolve to leave hold up stockings off my own shopping lists in the future. My legs don’t seem to be sticky enough. Stockings and suspender belt or tights from now on.

Shopping but not buying

I’ve been thinking about Saturday 01 March 2008.

Mostly on lunch break walks. Nervous. Uncertain as to why I want to do it, but sure that I do.

Friday 29 February 2008. “Ten o’clock?” … my wife kind of sniggers. “Billie’s coming at ten o’clock?” It’s funny because it means I need to wake up at 8:15 to stand a chance of getting made up and dressed ready for the shopping trip. On Saturdays I usually sleep in a lot later than that.

Friday night I file my nails and apply a couple of coats of pink nail polish. I know that attempting to do this on Saturday morning just would not work.

Saturday 03 March 2008. It’s 8:15.

Shower.

Breakfast.

My wife surprises me with a card. It says “Good luck. U can do it! Good luck. Go 4 it”. Inside she has written some very encouraging and sweet words. Makes me smile. I’m a lucky guy. And a lucky girl.

Brush teeth.

Shave. Shaving takes a lot longer when I know I need to apply foundation afterwards.

What to wear? I collect things from the wardrobe and chest of drawers.

Coat and scarf. Black jeans. Stripy shirt. Black holdup stockings. Bra. Panties. White trainers ( sneakers). I bought the trainers last weekend. I would have bought pink, but they don’t do pink in my size.

Underwear and stockings on.

Silicone boobies in place.

Foundation (Max Factor applied by wiping it on with fingers… for me I think it works better than the TV sticks that I used to use).

Pad on translucent powder and brush off the excess.

Shiny silver eye shadow.

A darker layer of gold shadow.

Black liquid eye liner.

The phone rings. Actually it plays a tune.

Being in mid-makeup I kind of listen to it with an air of distraction.

My wife is in the bath and reacts a lot faster to the sound than I do. Younger daughter is 21 today and said she’d phone sometime.

I hear the phone being answered. My wife singing loudly … “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear …”

Then it goes quiet. The phone is passed to me. “It’s Billie”.

Makes me smile. How many people get naked renditions of “Happy Birthday”? And it’s not even Billie’s birthday.

Billie is running a bit late. I’m grateful. Putting on makeup and being in a hurry are incompatible.

Back at the mirror my eyelids have black lines where there should be no black lines. It’s not a good idea to blink with eye liner that is still wet. Cotton wool buds are my friend.

White eyelash thickener.

Black mascara. And a cotton wool bud.

My wife heads off for the golf match.

Blusher.

Lip liner.

Lipstick.

Lip gloss.

Necklace.

Shirt.

Jeans.

Hair.

Earrings.

Watch.

Bracelet.

Ring.

Trainers.

It’s a little after ten o’clock.

The voice of Simone White keeps me company for a while.

The door chime plays a tune.

I head for the door and then think … what if it’s the postman? So I sneak a peek through the window. It’s Billie.

We talk a bit. I think I’m not as nervous as I thought I would be.

The plan is … Matalan (a clothing shop) in Slough followed by shops and lunch in Windsor.

Coat.

Scarf.

I drive … Billie thinks it will help me avoid anxiety. Tidbits of advice as we drive along.

As we head towards Slough we pass under the M4. At the next roundabout there is a line of traffic. Unusual. It looks as though there is a police presence doing some kind of a random check on vehicles. I’m glad that they don’t seem to be hunting down transvestites. I take a left at the roundabout. I had planned on going straight on, but I’m in the wrong lane and a left turn will still get us where we need to be.

We pull into the car park at Matalan. It takes me an unusually long time to park. I smile and blame it on the blond hair.

Heart beating a little faster than usual, we get out of the car and walk towards the store. I’m careful not to look at anyone. A few people … including Billie … have explained to me that this helps reduce the chance of people looking at me.

Peripheral vision is, however, fully active.

People have told me … I’ve told myself … no one really notices … no one cares. And I really do have the feeling that no one is staring at me. The reality of it is somehow liberating.

I can be me.

It’s ok to be me.

I recall that last week someone had asked me what I was planning to buy. I remember saying … “Oh …. nothing. It’s just a shopping trip.” This is definitely a statement that has its source in the feminine part of me.

We look at the shirts, blouses, skirts. Billie mentions that they have a great selection of bras. Good value and well made. I smile.

Billie goes in search of shoes and leaves me to wander around alone for a little while.

I avoid looking at people. It reminds me of a Winnie-the-Pooh story. I think it was piglet … yes … Google gives me the quote:

Winnie the Pooh: Look, look, Piglet. There's something in that tree over there.
Piglet: Is it one of the f-f-fiercer animals?
Tigger: Halloo!
Winnie the Pooh: Yes. It's a "jagular."
Piglet: W-What do "jagulars" d-do, Pooh?
Winnie the Pooh: Well, "jagulars" always call, "Halloo!" And when you look up, they drop on you.
Piglet: I'm looking *down*, P-P-Pooh.

I was definitely looking down. But also smiling.

Billie finds me again and we look around a little while longer.

Then, back into the car and we head for Windsor.

There’s a surprising amount of traffic on Victoria Street … but no queue to get into the car park.

I’m a little surprised at how normal everything feels.

We call by Shoe Fetish, a few (well, ok, all) of the charity shops, Daniels, Marks and Spencer. Billie is looking out for a hat, but none catches her eye.

Then on to Café Rouge. It’s busy, but there are a few seats. We sit down. Beer, orange juice, mussels, chicken salad. The waitress bats no eyelids. But I am still mostly looking down – just in case there are jagulars around.

People come and sit at the table next to us. The guy knocks the beer bottle over. Just as well it’s almost empty. He apologises.

The food arrives. The waiter bats no eyelids.

As we eat I’m kinda looking at people. No one is staring. People arrive at the other adjoining table. The place is pretty much full.

Billie visits the ladies.

I send a happy birthday text to my daughter.

We pay the bill.

I mention I wish I had a camera. Somehow it would be nice to capture something of the moment. Billie has one on her mobile phone. So … as we approach Shoe Fetish, I cross the road to stand outside the shop. Billie stays on the other side of the street to capture the moment.

There’s a big guy standing in front of the shop window. Smoking and talking loudly into his phone. There’s a bus separating me and Billie. I smile. The bus and the big guy move on. All of a sudden I’m being handed a thigh high white boot … “here … this ought to be in the picture.” It’s Kelvin from the shop. Obviously pretty observant. It makes me smile again. Billy captures the moment.

We pop into the shop and chat a while. Such nice people. Natalie (? ... I’m so bad at remembering names) tries my ring on. I met Kelvin at the party in January. We were both schoolgirls at the time. We talk about wigs and shoes and parties and people. With a bit of luck a get together at the pub across the road might become a regular event.

And then ... back to the car. The short drive home.

I didn’t buy a thing.

But I gained a lot!

The nicest shopping trip of my life.

Thank you Billie!

Movies, Songs and Shopping

A few days ago I watched the movie “One true thing”. One of those things that was set to auto-record several months ago and never actually got watched.

There are movies that make me cry. And this is one of them. I think it’s because it seemed to be imaginable and believable. And sad. There is a scene where people are singing “Silent Night” ... a Christmas carol of hope. And yet, there is no hope. Or is there? I found the relationships portrayed between daughter and mother and father had aspects of déjà vu about them. Not in a bad sense. It just meant that I could sense, a little, where people were coming from. Perhaps that’s something we all grow into as we grow older.

Once upon a time life seemed to be more black and white, true and false than it does to me now. In some ways it’s uncomfortable to increasingly feel that there are more and more questions and fewer and fewer answers. But I am realising that I don’t need to know what all the answers are.

A few weeks ago I discovered Simone White. She sings a song that is featured in an Audi advertisement on TV. A little hunting for lyrics courtesy of Google led me to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aB36GAPcfvc She has a lovely voice. I haven’t bought an Audi, but I did buy the CD. As well as her voice, I like the music and the lyrics. Her songs make me smile and also make me stop and think. These words are from the song “Great Imperialist State”:

There's a farmer in a distant country working on the land
A hat upon his head and a shovel in his hand
Till the soil plant the seed wait a while cut the leaf
And send another cup of tea to me

I'm a spoiled child of the great imperialist state
I cannot kill my meat nor grow the food upon my plate
I never walked a mile to the well, when the tap runs dry do tell
What will become of you and me

What will become of us, who will give us trust
Will you believe me when I say I never loved profiting from your pain
That I felt shame when I looked the other way

If you’re interested there’s more at http://www.myspace.com/simonewhite.

On a less serious kind of note Saturday is earmarked as Andreas first day out shopping. So if you’re in Windsor keep an eye open for me. I asked Bille about a trip out quite a few weeks ago ... Billie has a lot more experience at shopping whilst wearing a wig and dress and makeup ... We decided March 1st 2008 was good for both of us. So there we are.

Last week I was beginning to have second thoughts. And third thoughts as well, actually. Chatting with a few girls at “Surrey Swans” last night helped reassure me a little. Thank you! Sitting here writing about it isn’t so bad. But I expect that come Saturday I’ll be feeling rather more nervous about the prospect. In fact ... thinking about thinking about it is making me nervous.

I think the nervousness isn’t unusual for girls like me. Most of it, I think, is associated with how people will react. It’s not so much about “will anyone notice I’m not an RG?” If they look or if I speak then they will notice. But, I am assured that most people don’t look. Let me know if you have any hints and tips on all of this ... I’d be very appreciative!

At times I stop and ask myself “why do I want to do this?” And really, I don’t know. No more than I really know why wearing a skirt once in a while makes such a difference to me.
In a way I think it’s that I want the part of me that is Andrea to be less closeted and confined.
Whatever the reasons are ... I think that the approach of Saturday will be full of nervousness and, I guess, fear. But I’m hopeful that the experience will be more than worth the nerves. Just so long as I don’t resort to biting my fingernails!

Phobias, insensitivity, kindnesses and ... shopping

A wet kind of weekend so far. But at least not affected by any flooding.

Last night I chatted online a while with one of the people that I thought might never talk with me again. It meant a lot that although she finds Andrea impossible to understand, she can still be OK. Thank you L ... it means more to me than you know.

During the conversation we talked a bit about how difficult it can be for people to be accepted or at least tolerated by society.

Some people seem to have a real problem in tolerating other people who are different. Often I guess it's associated with some kind of fear or phobia or maybe a need to feel superior in some way. Perhaps the need to feel superior is the result of some inner insecurity?

Some people seem to find it easy to pick on gay people or lesbians. Or fat people. Or transvestites and transsexuals. Anyone that is different.

So far I've been outside as Andrea just twice. So far I haven't experienced sniggers from people or verbal abuse. So far only inquisitiveness and kindness.

However, I have talked with tgirls that have, and read blog sites. I know people that are overweight and suffer the same kind of insensitive behaviour from others.

One day I know that it will happen to me.

I hope that I'll have the grace to deal with it in a way that minimises hurt and pain to all concerned. And also the bravery to continue just being myself. So long as being myself is something that doesn't harm other people then that's who I want to be.

Today I returned the clothes that I bought last week that didn't fit ... and couldn't resist buying alternatives. I decided this time to not have to go through another cycle of finding I had to return things all over again. So, I gritted my teeth (just metaphorically) and visited the changing rooms. This wasn't so bad at all ... at least compared with how I thought it might have been. The shopping was all at charity shops. There are just one or two cubicles. No one is watching. And I didn't feel embarassed or uncomfortable at all. It also meant that there was one skirt that I liked a lot but didn't buy because it didn't fit. So it saved a return journey. I ended up buying loads of clothes ... at very little cost.

I called in at M&S with my wife also. It was really nice looking at clothing with her. She bought a lovely dress and jacket. While waiting in the queue for the changing room it was interesting to notice how different it is from a queue of guys. Ladies ask each other how things look, whether or not colours match or clash ... even through they don't know each other.

It really is a totally different world!