Pink Punters

Last Saturday marked the occasion of another Pink Punters trip.

It would be cool if someone managed to make a razor that could remove body hair without also making little cuts. But the little cuts are few and they disappear quickly … and the alternatives of epilators, wax and cream don’t sound spectacularly better.

The one night excursion still requires a surprisingly large suitcase.

Laura arrives at a little before 4:00 pm and we set off and chat about Christmas, music, stockings, shopping, gender, Surrey Swans, TV (transvestite) dinners …

I realise that I have forgotten to bring a camera.

Ring ring …

My phone.

Once we work out where it is, Laura takes a look at it … since I’m driving.

“It’s Nikki" it says on the phone display.

The call is missed.

Laura calls back.

It’s quite a challenge. Engine noise. A bad line.

I smile as Laura and Nikki struggle to communicate. But they manage.

About 5:20 and we reach the hotel and check in.

I take room 9. Laura and Nikki room 7.

The ritual of dressing and makeup begins.

Nails were painted earlier in the day and are nice and dry.

Wash, deodorise, shave, moisturise.

Lingerie. The stocking and suspender belt thing is still a challenge … there is always one suspender that takes ages and ages and ages to fasten.

At least the nails and the polish survive intact.

Sometime … one day … maybe … I’ll practice more at this art …. and work out some new ingredients and combinations.

For now, it’s the usual makeup routine.

A text from Emma in room 118.

Eventually I’m ready … a patterned skirt and black shirt … and phone room 7 and room 118.

Knock knock.

Laura and I head for the hotel bar.

Tottenham Hotspurs are playing Leeds United on the TV. A half pint of Stella and a Budweiser. We sit and chat.

A little later Emma and Nikki join us. The food is a long time in coming, but we get a free drink and 20% discount on the food.

“What room are you in?” asks the waitress.

“007” says Nikki.

“What’s the name then?” asks Andrea.

“Bond. James Bond.” says Nikki.

“Damn. That should have been Jane not James.”

I change into a different skirt and blouse and knock on the door at 007.

Laura opens the door. She has great legs.

Nikki has a rubber … latex … well something like that anyway … dress on.

She disappears into the bathroom as Laura slides into a skirt and I perch on the end of one of the beds.

There’s a hissing sound from the bathroom and Nikki re-appears.

“Can you spray this on my back?” asks Nikki … handing me a can of silicone spray.

“What’s it for?”

“To make the rubber shiny.”

We head for the bathroom. Nikki faces the mirror and I start to spray.

It does look shiny.

Nikki sprays the belt.

And then tries to fasten it.

Shiny also means slippery.

The belt is tight and slippery. It needs stretching and pulling and fastens with poppers at the back.

Emma arrives and helpfully videos myself and Laura tugguing at Nikki’s belt.

After a while the poppers pop and the belt is fastened.

The end result looks great.

It’s  11:00 pm or so by the time we are signing in at Pink Punters. Nikki gets a pair of earplugs from the dispenser near the entrance.

As the evening passes we talk and dance.

“How long will it stay shiny for?” I ask Nikki.

Of course I was talking about the silicone coated rubber dress.

We discuss the relative merits of shaving, waxing, epilating and using cream as a mechanism for body hair removal.

“I just use cream where I can’t reach with a razor" says Emma.

“Oh … we really don’t want to go there” quips Nikki.

“I was talking about my back.”

“How are you doing?” asks a girl buying a drink at the bar.

We chat a while. Her name is Wendy … married with 3 children aged between 8 years and 18 months. It’s a girls night out.

She asks a bit about the transgendered thing.

Transsexual and Transvestite.

How long?

When did it start?

How does it feel to be dressed.

She says I look too young to have daughters aged 24 and 22 .. a definite friend.

It being Burns night … or pretty close at any rate (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burns_supper) … a group of kilted men and partners arrive. A little bit of makeup and a wig and wow … they would all be transformed.

Laura declines the challenge of finding out what exactly is being worn underneath the kilts.

“What do you mean?” asks Emma.

“Your skirt … its a tartan.”

“Oh … I thought you said I was a tart.”

“No … tartan … like the kilts.”

It’s about 4:00 pm as we leave.

Emma takes pictures of me failing to ascend climb up out of the grassy ditch … it’s not easy when you are wearing 4.5” heels.

At 7:00 am my phone wakes me with the kind of bleep that means it needs more electricity.

I turn it off and fall asleep again until the alarm wakes me at 10:00 am.

As always I enjoyed the night a lot.

And a few pictures that Laura took on her mobile phone.

Perched on the bed with Emma in tartan:

Nikki’s dress is kinda shiny isn’t it?

 

Sitting in the corner at Pink Punters with Emma:

When Nikki and Emma email me some of the pictures that they took I’ll post them here.

Friends, God and Transvestites

Elina …. you are so sweet!

A couple of weeks ago I caught up a little with a friend from several years ago on yahoo chat. I hadn’t seen her online for quite a while … pre-Andrea.

“How are things?”

“Good thanks. Different but good. How about you?
”Good … and different as well.”

Pam is still very much a Christian … but, I think, in a different kind of place than a few years ago.

She spends a while sharing things that have happened and how things are different.

“And how about your differences?”

“Well … does the term transvestite mean anything to you?”

“A guy that crossdresses?”

“Yes … well … I am one.”

“Cool.”

I’m kind of surprised.

Over the next little while I mention my blog.

She says I look good :).

“Maybe God had made you this way so you can better understand women.”

It’s a perspective I haven’t really considered before.

It’s nice to be in touch again.

Christmas, New Year and Photographs

Well … 2009 already seems a long time ago.

A friend that was once the minister of the Baptist church that I used to attend (he’s moved on to pastures new … still working in a Christian capacity) mentioned Chris While and Julie Matthews on the Christmas card that we received … English Indigo Girls was the phrase that he used.

Of course, I couldn’t resist checking them out. They are at http://www.whileandmatthews.co.uk/

I bought a copy of their ‘Best of …’ CD. And I have to admit it’s growing on me. There are some beautiful songs on it  … As Distant as the Poles … Even the Desert Bears a Seed … Steady Breathing … On My Way.

I like Class Reunion as well … the thought of standing in a line in my netball skirt has a peculiar attraction to me.

I listened to Poles Apart driving home from work tonight and it made me cry … not unhappily … more one of those yes I know what you mean kind of moments.

We spent Christmas in Wales. Almost no Internet which is quite a challenge these days. And no Andrea.

The absence of the opportunity to be Andrea still surprises me in the effect it has on me.

One evening, having got back home, Sally said … “why don’t I cook a nice meal tonight while you put on some makeup and a dress.”

It was really sweet of her.

There really are times when the putting on of Andrea is like laying the burden of everyday life down for a while. Not that everyday life is really much of a burden. I guess it’s … well I don’t know exactly … but … it does me good.

It’s a shame that putting on makeup takes such a long time!

The snow was pretty … but some of the side effects I could have lived without. Travelling to work became a problem. And Kathie and Billie had to cancel the January TV (as in Transvestite) dinner.

It seems trite to complain though. There are many people that live with much greater hardships than a single missed dinner … and it’s not as though I didn’t get to eat at home that evening.

Towards the end of 2009 I emailed Tracey & Nikki at TransFemme and booked a makeover for January 15th.

Just before then I had an email from Tracey … she has flu! She’s a sweetie though … she wasn’t feeling well at all but was only really worried that she didn’t want to pass it on and was giving me a chance to re-book.

I’d booked the afternoon off work though … and … schedules being schedules … it was going to be difficult to re-schedule.

So … I took the risk.

And I’m glad that I did. It was a great break from the routine of life.

The journey there was pretty uneventful … most of the snow had disappeared and the traffic was mostly moving well along the M4.

I got there almost exactly on time … so really ..l the traffic wasn’t all that good really … I’d allowed a fair bit of leeway.

We chatted over a coffee. Poor Tracey was very sniffly.

I love the kind of pampered feeling there is in being made up. It’s so relaxing somehow. And I find it a lot easier to sit still and not blink whilst someone is poking around with things close to my eyes.

After the makeup is completed … I try out the new velvety black dress that Sally helped me select just before Christmas.

Here’s how it looks:

 

And then a red dress:

And a skirt:

There are quite a lot more at http://cid-d2a4d9a4c164f3e2.skydrive.live.com/browse.aspx/2010%2001%2015 … let me know what you think … well … so long as they are nice thoughts.

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.

Cartoon Andrea by Dani

My friend Dani recently posted  a cartoon / self portrait of herself (http://entransed.blogspot.com/2009/11/cartoon-dani-self-portrait.html).

Having left a comment saying how much I liked it, I was really delighted and surprised to receive an email with the following picture:

 

Thanks Dani … you’re a sweetie!

Dinner, hobbies and personalities

Last Tuesday was the Christmas TV (Transvestite) Dinner at Billie and Kathie’s.

Excellent food and company.

We talked a little about where the transvestite thing fits into our lives.

In a way this seems to be connected to another question that two people have asked me about recently … about the meanings of the terms “cross dresser”, “transvestite” and “transsexual”.

The first time I ever wore makeup, Fiona Floyd shared with me her understanding of this, and I think it makes sense. The definitions are from a male kind of perspective and highly over simplified.

• Cross dresser – a guy that sometimes wears ladies clothing.
• Transvestite – also wears makeup and wig.
• Transsexual – someone that feels that they are a girl that has been born in a mans body.

The truth is, I know, much more complex.

Personally speaking, for much of my life I was an occasional cross dresser.

For the past few years I have been a transvestite – though really, I think, this has always been a part of who I am and that it’s only been in the past few years that I’ve felt the freedom to be able to

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express it.

I don’t believe that I am transsexual.

Of course, everyone’s experiences are different and I can only speak with any authority about myself.

In many ways the cross dressing seemed to be associated with eroticism and masturbation.

The transvestism is different. There are elements of eroticism associated with it, I know. But much, much more of it is about self expression. It’s who I am.

I remember the first makeover … and the sensation of self discovery that was associated with it.

At the TV dinner we talked a bit about that.

Sometimes, I think, it’s useful to look at the transvestite things as a kind of “hobby”.

In a way I can see that from some perspectives, a transvestite could be viewed as a guy that likes to play at being a girl once in a while.

But really, it’s more than that – for me at least. And for other transvestites that I know – Tina, Julia, Laura, Billie and Fiona to name just a few.

Andrea isn’t just a hobby to me. I am Andrea.

The freedom to express the femininity that is a part of me matters a great deal. I also accept the masculinity that is a part of me. Both are more than hobbies. Both are aspects of who I am.

Stepping out a little further

Last weekend we headed north to join in celebrating the 6oth birthday of Sally’s brother in law. Mine as well.

The celebration itself was at the local golf club.

We dropped by on Saturday afternoon mid way through the inflating of balloons, setting up of sound systems and laying of tables.

I sat down with a beer. Sally’s sister, P, came and sat by me.

“I have a joke for you.”

Recently a group of transgendered folk had their first meeting at the hall of the church where she goes.

She was at a meeting on the same evening, and she needed another table.

The vicar had asked people to be sensitive and not pester the transgendered group. After all, it was their first meeting and they might be a little nervous.

In the end, though, P went and asked if they had a spare table.

The person that P asked said she should check with the organiser.

“Who’s that?”

“The lady.”

At which point P smiled a little bemusedly since the only people in sight were ladies.

P asked me  a little about my “hobby”. Which made me smile.

It was a short conversation. A small event in many ways. And yet, it was a big event as well. The first conversation with a non-immediate relative that has acknowledged this part of me.

One strange kind of thing is knowing that some people know a little of Andrea, but not knowing who knows what and who doesn’t know anything.

The cat is certainly out of the bag, but I’m not sure about who has spotted it yet, nor how much of it they have seen.

Actually, I don’t really mind who knows.

But, I hope that people that know things will be able to avoid the temptation to jump to conclusions. That they’ll be able to ask. To challenge. To find out.

Later in the evening J came to say hello.

She mentioned that she’d heard that I didn’t go to church any more and wondered if I minded talking about it … and why?

It was too late to talk much … but we talked a little. Just the beginnings of a conversation. We’ll talk again. It was nice that she wanted to know.