A Dahl’s House

I’ve seen a number of crossdressers mention how far they feel they have to go to be pretty.

I’ll admit to being insecure about my looks so I know how it can be intimidating to feel you’re an ugly duckling among the swans. But few of us (women included) were born beautiful, it’s something we learn to make ourselves. The good news is that it’s something anyone can learn.

In that vein, I just wanted to point out that not so long ago, I looked like this (be afraid, be very afraid…):

Was doing some googling looking for studies on the prevalence of crossdressing and ran across a site listing abstracts of numerous PhD dissertions and other journal articles on trans subjects

If you read my latest entry on the Gender Evolve blog, you know that thanks to Michele’s help, I feel like I’ve been transformed from an ugly duckling to another one of the many beautiful swans here. So much so, that I’m feeling like my current name no longer fits. “Darla” just seems a bit old-fashioned and not reflective of the new sexier and more self-confident person I see in the mirror.

So I’m asking for your help in finding a more suitable name.

“Darla” actually was a bit a whimsical choice. I wanted to go online and needed a femme name quickly. The first name that came to mind was Daria, the cartoon character, since our Lady of Teen Misfits resonated with my own high school and later work-related hells. And I too have used droll cynicism as armor to cover up those vulnerable parts of my heart and soul. But I initially misremembered the name as “Darla,” and when I remembered a day or two later, I decided to stay with it, since
“Daria” seemed to be too direct an allusion.

So who am I, or maybe more properly, who do I want my name to inspire me to be?

Think Daria 20 years later. Still cynical—though she’d say she’s “realistic” and maybe mellowed to “skeptical” —and mistrustful of authority, and doesn’t hesitate to make her opinions known when she sees fit. She has a talent for writing, a sharp intellect, an even sharper tongue when needed (her sarcasm could cut tempered steel) although she’s learned to hold it when politic, and a wit so dry it makes the Sahara look like a rain forest. But time has tempered her. She’s become an embattled cynic and her caring side shows through more and more. Still looking for her intellectual equal in love.

But thankfully the rain boots are gone. Her friends recently put on on “What Not to Wear,” where despite an epic duel of sarcasm with Clinton and Stacy, she secretly enjoyed the whole process and now feels looking great is the best revenge on the Fashion Club.

So I’m looking for a name that says: Smart. Sarcastic. Skeptical. Literate. Sexy. So far, I’m toying with Veronica, Marlena, and maybe Daria after all. Any suggestions?

I ran across this nutshell history of the “men’s movement” (which was something I flirted with in college, but ultimately didn’t resonate with me for a variety of reasons). While it delves into details about the politics of various organizations that I never was into, it does a good job of outlining the various currents of thought.

A friend of mine ran across a comic strip, “The Meaning of Lila” which is featured a crossdressing plotline. (“Lila” appears to be a younger, hipper (and better drawn) “Cathy”-like strip—and oddly my friend ran across it in Stars and Stripes, the military newspaper.)

Our heroine—who’s been searching for a man—meets Bill, who’s en femme, at a Halloween party, and gives him her number. A co-worker questions whether Lilia really wants to go out with a guy who wore a dress, but Lila points out a lot of guys go in drag for Halloween. But when they meet for a drink, Bill’s still in a dress and tells Lila it’s not a costume. (“I’m very much a man, I just like to dress in women’s clothes.”) Lila says she’s not comfortable dating a crossdresser and that she’s worried about what her mother would think. But she does love his shoes, and Bill offers to her borrow any of them. Lila says she’s really tempted, but sadly she isn’t a size 13.

This month’s Discover magazine has a fun article on efforts to design a better bra which might give pause to those who you who are wishing for a pair of your own:

A pair of D-cup breasts weighs between 15 and 23 pounds—the equivalent of carrying around two small turkeys. The larger the breasts, the more they move and the greater the discomfort. In one study, 56 percent of women suffered from breast pain when jogging.

To best support breasts, a designer has to understand how they move. To that end, McGhee’s team in Australia, headed by biomechanist Julie Steele, tags women with light-emitting diodes and asks them to run on treadmills….Breasts move in a sinusoidal pattern, Steele has found, and they move a lot. Small breasts can move more than three inches vertically during a jog, and large breasts sometimes leave their bras entirely. “We have videos of women who, particularly if the cup is too low, spill all over the top,” Steele says.

I saw my hairstylist for a long overdue haircut and highlights (she persuaded me to do subtle highlights awhile back and I love them). While she was working on me the subject of Halloween costumes came up and I mentioned that I’d gone in drag.

The male stylist and his client perked up their ears and joined in the conversation. The stylist (not gay, has two sons) talked about how he and a friend did a rather campy drag for Halloween a few years ago. His client, a woman in her 60s, thought it was a hoot. I told them a “friend” had done my make-up (which is true, although the photo later I showed has eyes by MAC) and that I’d shaved my legs too. The old lady got a special kick out of that and said my friend should’ve waxed me to give the full experience. Both of them really wanted to see pictures but unfortunately, I didn’t have photos with me.

But while I was having my hair cut, I realized the salon had a nail station, so I asked if I could set up an appointment for a pedicure—since I haven’t been able to reach my toes easily on the hurt leg, I haven’t been able to cut my toenails for more than month and things were getting a bit gnarly. They couldn’t do an appointment right after my hair was finished, so I needed to come back a little later, which gave me time to run home and print out two photos (the photo on my About Me page and a full-length shot of me in the same outfit).

Thanks to my makeover at MAC, I’m quite the glamour queen in this picture. Too bad I’d forgotten to reset the camera to shoot in indoor lighting—it took quite a bit of work in Photoshop to get rid of a nasty color imbalance.