A Dahl’s House

Maybe this is a San Francisco thing, but maybe others have had similar experiences.

I was out with a number of other girls Saturday night at a mixed (gay and straight) bar. As a group we clearly weren’t passable. I doubt the patrons recognized us as a trannies instead of non-flamboyant drag queens, but they definitely knew we were guys in dresses. (BTW, nobody made fun us, everyone was quite friendly.)

Consequently we were able go up and talk to people in a way that I’ve never been able to do as a guy. For example, we’d compliment a women on her outfit, which would start a whole conversation with her and her friends.

Maybe women do the same thing with each other, but it felt like that because we were perceived as an interesting oddity people opened up in a way that they would not have normally done with a bunch of strangers, male or female. Sort as if any other character in an outlandish costume had started talking to them.

I’m more of the intellectual, creative type myself, but there’s definitely a quite number of us who are macho types while en homme. Likewise, there’s also a lot of engineers, mechanics, programmers and other “logical” types. (Other interesting correlations I’ve heard: there’s lots of pilots, and model railroad and ham radio enthusiasts.)

My personal take on it is that dressing allows these folks to express part of themselves that they feel that can’t do in their “everyday” personality—so that sense, yes, it’s an escape.

Some girls I know have said they became macho precisely because they felt a feminine side in them and it scared them, so they went out to prove their manhood. (It’s not uncommon for late transitioning transsexuals to have been hyper-macho for similar reasons.) For others, it seems like they just grew up macho and for the most part enjoy it—but the rigidness of gender roles that tends to accompany macho leads them to
“become” women to express feminine aspects of their personalities.

For the Spock-like folks, it seems like there’s a similar dynamic—there’s this emotional, illogical part of themselves that normally they keep a lid on, and are proud of being able to do so. But it does seem to leak out in various ways. It seems like a lot of these folks
show up in various “alternative” lifestyles from Star Fleet, to the Rennaisance Faire to Burning Man, where they let loose this other side. Some, for whatever reason, end up putting on a dress instead of a Starfleet uniform.

The other factor is I think most of us have different personas that we wear for different contexts—work, visiting our parents, out with friends etc. Looked at that way, dressing is just taking things a bit further.

Myself en femme and en homme are two facets of the same personality. There are obviously differences. Some are my femme side coming out to play. For example, I’m more caring and nuturing—and I get to indulge more of my desires for pretty things. Some differences are consciously choosen. For example, my guy-self isn’t that great at
meeting new people in social situations, so en femme I consciously try to be the social butterfly. (I suppose any social awkwardness is easier to deal with if it’s not the “real” me.) Still others are “protective coloring”—I’ve worked on feminine movement and speech, since I like going out. But I also have to save they help me feel like I’m acting the part as it were.

But they’re not completely different personalities. I enjoyed decorating my home (it’s an outlet for my creative side, since I get to do less of that in my current work), but it’s clearly masculine (sort in the style Thom from Queer Eye often does). If I did as
“Marlena,” it would be a bit softer and more decorative but still modernist—think West Elm rather than Laura Ashley.

As long as you’re happy that’s the important thing. And we crossdressers have soooo much more fashion sense than the Trekkies.

Usual routine getting out of the house. Stopped at Carla’s to wait for people to gather. About half girls I knew and half who were new to me. There were a dozen of us, including Carla and Syndey, who’s a FTM to who’s the boyfriend of one of the girls, who’s a FT MTF. No sports on the TV this time and after a little bit we all drove over to a Chinese restaurant nearby. First time we’ve been there. So-so food, but a chance to get out with the girls.

It was about 6 p.m. so it was broad daylight and a number of people on the sidewalk. Got a few stares as you might expect. But the restaurant staff were quite friendly and led us over to a big round table, which was out on the main floor. There was a couple with two young kids at the next table, and they did a couple doubletakes and then seemed to
not pay us a lot of attention for the rest of their dinner. There were a couple other diners who came and went over the course of the dinner, who also didn’t seem to pay a whole lot of attention—but I was facing away from them (towards a partion) so I didn’t have the
greatest view of what was going on around us.

Turns out there was a bit of drama at the last dinner I wasn’t aware of. Apparently the hostess was a bit rude and the waiters stared at some people. I was in a really good conversation with the people at my table, so I guess I didn’t notice. Anyway, we’ll never be going there again.

In contrast, the staff at the Chinese restaurant was friendly and respectful. Seems like Asian cultures are generally more t-friendly, so maybe that was a factor. Don’t know how the Chinese specifically view transgenders.

A couple girls were comparing their electrolysis stories. Carla’s girlfriend is going through some extensive electrolysis, although she’s not apparently transitioning (as Carla made clear), there was a pre-op transsexual next to me and another girl who’s just getting her face done. Apparently, she’s got a really heavy fast-going beard and ends up with five o’clock shadow by the end of evening. Little extreme for me, but I can understand why she wants to do it. Fortunately, I’m naturally a dark blonde, so I generally don’t have that problem except on my chin and throat where the beard is darker. MAC’s got it’s “Full
Coverage” foundation that’s essentially a concealer, so have to experiment and see if I can combine using it with one of their regular foundations.

Anyway, we had a good time although we wrapped things up around 8. Walking out to the parking lot we got read by some women coming in, although I think they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing.

Still had the urge to get out more, so Sunday afternoon I decided to go up to San Francisco. Got dressed and did my make-up, put my wig of to double-check that things look right. Got the hair adjusted just right and hated to take it off, since it’s hard to check in the rear-view mirror. I kept going to the front window and taking a look outside and
the street seemed deserted. So I said, fuck it, grabbed my boy bag and went out as is, and took off. Don’t know if it’s just getting to the point where I don’t care as much if the neighbors find out, or whether it was just thrill seeking. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but it felt daring.

Drove up to the city and discovered that while it was sunny and warm on the Pennisula, the fog was rolling in. So while I was going to go to Union Square and hit the department stores, I decided to change my mind and hit Fisherman’s Wharf again. Lots of tourists underestimate the cool San Francisco summers, so I figured I’d stick out less. (I’d foolishly
decided to wear a flirty summer skirt that was made out of lightweight fabric. Learned my lesson—unless I’m clubbing I’m wearing pants up there.) Unfortunately, traffic was really bad around the Wharf (previously, I’ve gone during the week, since I can set my own hours) and I lost patience and headed back to Union Square.

Parked in a parking garage nearby that’s I’m familar with and doesn’t have valet parking. The one down side is that parking starts on the second floor and you have to take the elevator down, so I was bit nervous about potential close quarter contact. When I went out dancing with Jamie and Eve a pizza guy got in the elevator with us, but there were three of us then and I think he was a lot more nervous than we were. Fortunately, where I parked I discovered an emergency stairwell that I hadn’t know about before. It wasn’t alarmed, so I took it. Might not have been the smartest thing, since I could’ve run into some weirdo, but I figured I’m a big girl and I’d rather have room to maneuver.

Got read more than my outings to Fisherman’s Wharf. Partly I think it was the skirt wasn’t appropriate to the weather. I did seem a few women in skirts, but they were heavier, warmer fabrics like denim. Partly, it may be folks around there and in Macys were less
distracted. Partly, it was I had to take my sunglasses off in-doors, which exposes an unfeminine brow line and nose. The irony is my big, doughy nose (which I think is a bit of a giveaway) actually came from my Mom. Guess God has a wicked sense of humor. OTOH, I’d say a lot of people didn’t appear to notice.

It was kind of interesting observing people’s reaction. A few people clearly seemed to read me but seemed friendly. Most people did a double-take with their eyes, but then tried to act cool about, although occasionally their eyes would stray back for a moment. A few
would stare for a bit and when I’d look them in the eyes and smile they’d look away, realizing they’d been caught. On the escalator for several floors there was a sharply-dressed young black kid with his girlfriend who couldn’t stop taking looks at me. Wasn’t mad-dogging me or anyway, I think he just couldn’t believe what he was seeing. After the first couple times I looked at him and tried to give him my best “I know that you know” smile, but he kept looking. But he seemed harmless and just walked off with his girlfriend when we both reached our floor. Who knows, maybe he was a closet crossdresser himself….

Did a bit of browsing around Macys—wasn’t planning to buy anything since there weren’t any sales going on and anyway Darla need to keep on a budget, aside from a few things I need to get when the fall/winter seaons stuff comes in. Wandered into the Women’s
department. It was pretty slow, with a few clerks and customers on the other side of the floor. But I ended up loosing my nerve and wandered back out. I knew I wasn’t passing as well and wasn’t really eager to interact with the salesclerks.

So went back down to the ground floor out through the cosmetics counters—oh, so tempting—and walked around a bit more. They’re building a new mall inside the old Emporium building so I was curious to see how that’s going. Passed the cable car turnaround and walked back to the garage. Unfortunately, you can’t enter the stairs from
ground-level so I had to take the elevator. Fortunately, no else was around. Drove home and it was twilight, so I figured it was quiet, I’d try getting in the house without changing—thanks be to that front hedge. At worse, I figured as long as I could get in the driveway, I could always take off the wig and form and pull on the gym suit while I was parked there. But it was quiet, so I lived dangerously again.

Not as satisfying as other outings, but still nice to get out of the house. Now just to get serious about that dieting.

First off let me says almost no one is 100% passable, 100% of the time. Even some
post-op transsexuals get read sometimes.

Body type—While most of us are at the edges of “normal” female height/weight distributions, there are women of equal size. Not many, but they’re out there. I’m 5’10” with broad shoulders, yet I’ve seen women larger than me, both in height and build. So it
takes more work, but body type alone won’t make you unpassable. I go out regularly and don’t get read that much.

The truth is most people are pretty oblivious most of the time, so it’s easier to pass than one might think. Of course it makes a difference when, where and how far away. I’m obviously more passable at 30 feet than 3 feet.

Hair, make-up, clothes, shoes—Gotta distinguish between dressing for pleasure and dressing for going out. Many crossdressers look a bit like teenage girls with “Dynasty” hair. Too much make-up, clothes that are too short and too tight, heel that are too high, big and poofy hair. Look around, women just don’t look like that. On one my mailing lists, we were able to help a girl in only a few days go from literally having people point and laugh at her to blending in with only the occasional read, just by toning down these things.

Even if you’re already doing these things “realistically,” it’s important to keep context in mind. women rarely go to the mall dressed the way they’d go to a nice restaurant and vice versa. Also remember age appropriateness. Women of a certain age who dress like Brittany
Spears look ridiculous and so will you. It doesn’t mean you have to look matronly—after all French women look sexy and stylish no matter what age they are—but you do need to be aware of how women dress at different ages. If you watch “What Not to Wear” that an issue that frequently comes up, so you can get some advice that way.

Movement—Clumping around like a guy will give you away. So will slinking like a runway model. women move differently and there’s a variety of websites that can give you tips. But don’t overdo it. For example, just brushing your thighs together as you walk is enough to give some hip sway without looking like your doing a samba.

Voice—If you interact with people and sound like James Earl Jones, it’s going to give you away. Let’s be honest, developing a credible feminine voice is hard work, even for transsexuals for whom it’s really important. Again there’s sites with info how to do this. Technically, the biggest thing you need to do is get rid of the male ressonance in
your voice and use the tonal variations that women use instead of speaking in a male monotone. You probably also need to raise the pitch of your voice a bit, but not as much as you think. The other half is using words in the way that women use, which is different than how men talk. OTOH, while my voice definitely isn’t credible for extended conversation, it does sound somewhat feminine for brief interactions.

But it’s attitude that counts more than anything else. Often newbies are extremely nervous and people pick up on that and give you a close look. Once you’ve realized getting read isn’t the end of the world, people usually relax and in turn get read less. And at worse if you’re read and you act like you deserve respect, my experience is you’ll usually get it.

Well there’s discomfort with gender roles and discomfort with one’s sex (i.e. your body.) It’s been pretty well demonstrated that transsexual who get GRS have a fairly high degree of the latter. I think it’s likely the non-transitioning transsexuals and crossdressers have lower degrees of this—hence the “irresistable urge” part of it and the feeling that one has a tangible feminine side.

But I think discomfort with gender roles plays a bit part of it. I seem to remember some studies indicating a good percentage of men and women have personalities that fall outside the accepted norms for “masculine” and “feminine” personalities. It’s interesting to me that
there seem to be a lot of crossdressers from conservative social environments, where gender roles are typically more rigid, as well as the number of folks engaged in “logical/rational” profession, i.e. engineering, programming, etc. For the former group, “becoming” a woman may be a way to express aspects of their personalities that aren’t socially accept as a man. For the latter, I think crossdressing is a way of letting out the non-rational parts of their personalities that they normally keep in check. (It’s interesting that engineers, programmers, etc. are often over-represented in other “alternative” activities from the Rennaissance Faire to Burning Man, to Trekking, where they also have a
chance to become someone else.)

Lately, I’ve become intrigued by the question of why there are so few female crossdressers (although crossdressing play is more prominent in the lesbian community) when there are a good number of MTF transsexuals, especially if you factor in the stone butches and other strongly butch lesbians who to my outside eye often seem like they’re exhibiting transgender-ish behavior. The obvious answer is the greater flexibility in clothing, but that
ignores the fact that it’s intent that makes it crossdressing rather just wearing clothes of the opposite sex.

There’s an interesting female parallel to cross-dressing: tomboyism. From the research I’ve run across there’s two types of tomboyism, the first and widely common is “expansive” (i.e. wanting to play with dolls and trucks), while a minority of tomboys reject female behavior and sometimes even deny they’re girls. Lesbians (especially butches) have a much higher likelihood than “normal” of having been tomboys, especially the second type. But interestingly, bisexual women, who self-identified as andrgynous at suprisingly high rates,
had a strong likelihood of recalling being tomboys part of the time. Raven Kaldera, a transman, mentions having seen some female crossdressers and says they typically begin in their 20s. (Unfortunately, he doesn’t mention if any of them were tomboys, so I don’t know if it’s a resumption of behavior or something new. But my suspicion is the later
onset is because when the social pressures that typically put an end to tomboyism are weaker.)

The sum of this suggests to me that there’s a number of women who’ve got similar gender discomfort to us MTF crossdressers (at varying levels). Things do get murky because discomfort with gender role has been the focus of feminism, whereas with men there’s really not been a widespread equivalent. Women with gender role discomfort turn to feminism, where men with gender role discomfort may turn to crossdressing. Another factor is that MTF presentation involves “dressing up” whereas “masculine” women
generally are “dressing down” (short hair, not wear much, if any make-up, “practical” clothes, etc.) And of course the great range of acceptable clothing for women. So MTF crossdressing involves an overt awareness of what you’re doing, whereas women don’t necessarily have to been as self-aware, as in fact probably see it more as “not being
girly” than “being masculine.”