By Cissy B
Though it would be a simple thing for a GG or a more experienced TV, I find it very anxiety producing to go shopping (not en femme...I'm hoping we'll be brave enough to try this someday) for my girl clothing.
Probably because of my sordid past I'm okay at buying jewelry, a little worse at make up (though I found a good place for that), worse still at underwear (unless its Frederick's or Victoria's Secret), very nervous about shoes (that's why I always end up at Payless for 9.00 shoes) and downright frozen with fear at carefully picking out real clothes.
However, today after trying on a variety of my wife's outfits to gage my dress, blouse and skirt sizes (which vary somewhat from garment to garment), I decided to go shopping. I've been wanting to expand my wardrobe because I have very few items that I can actually wear in any public setting (unless you count Victoria Secret night shirts). I also feel its time to expand past my all black public repertoire (my male and female side argue over what are good colors for the feminine me...black was the easy solution).
So off to the mall I went. I have found three big problems which need to be addressed when shopping as a guy for girl stuff:
So here's how I handled it today...
#1 If I went to busy/big department stores I found that the sales people weren't all that attentive (on a busy day they're working the checkout and restocking). In the little specialty stores (with male and female clothing lines like the GAP), or in quiet ladies only stores the help are too hungry for sales, too lonely or (my paranoia here) on watch for suspicious cross dressers. This led to either trying on a lot of men's jeans while longingly gazing across the store at the cute skirts I die for or to stuttering out some "creative" excuse about how I was supposed to meet my wife in here.
And so I spent a lot of time wandering around at JC Penneys.
#2 Though there may actually be some suspicious security people watching (maybe even following) I found it was possible to explore skirts, blouses and sweaters without much visual admonishment. There were other guys shopping with their girlfriends/wives, holding items for them, even helping them search for sizes and stuff...I hoped I'd be mistaken for one of those. If not a helpful hubby, I imagined that there were other stories the women around me invented..."he's shopping for his daughter, a friend, he works here, or Ah ha! One of THOSE perverts!" Whatever...
Under the watchful eyes of the crack security staff, I picked a couple of skirts, partially hid them with the coat I held over my arm and took them up the escalator to the men's department. Pausing to grab a pair of jeans I never planned to buy, I headed off to the fitting room...no mirror in the stalls!. I went for it anyway, size 13...way to big I should have taken the 11s...now I had to put these back and start again...exhausting. To avoid any mistaken appearance of shoplifting, I carefully returned the skirts to their respective racks. Exhausted and overly worried about security, I left the store. At least I had a better idea about my skirt size.
Drawing on my last bit of whatever it is that drives a cross dresser to "her" goal, I went to Ward's.
First to the junior's racks where some little skirts were going for 50% off...bingo! I found the little black mini I'd been searching for. Having rehearsed the move, I partially buried the skirt in my folded coat (does this mean I won't be able to shop during the no coat months?) and headed off to the men's fitting room grabbing a cheap pair of Easy Fit Bugle Boys along the way. Now the big moment, zip, pants off, zip skirt on and ...yes, the 11 fits (slightly large actually...but close enough).
Of course, I could see why the thing was 50% off, it's pretty cheap (okay if moving quickly or in a dim room...the story of my femme life) and somewhat sheer (no slip purchases today) and after trying it on with my padding at home, it hangs a little oddly in the back but still passable.
Now my confidence was up so I went back into the racks and picked out a scooped neck blouse (in green-conservative but at least it wasn't black) and a tan mock turtle neck (this turned out to be too big and now I'm going to have to exchange it). All I had to do now was go through the check out.
#3 Wards' ladies department attracts an interesting mixture of Hispanic teenage girls with tall hair and black lipstick being led by their terse looking mothers, really large African American women who move through the racks like British soldiers in a horizontal row and post-menopausal suburban white ladies in lots of polyester, all them sounding like high risks for emphysema (a cacophony of coughs). All of them were crowded around the check out counter, a disorganized mass of bargain hunters. And me, the sole male, wishing that there was a dark, back room checkout for cross-dressers.
So there we are, me trying to hold my purchases in a way that I hoped would make them look like macho sports equipment...good luck! Finally, I get to the check out and hand this squashed ball of ladies clothing to the women behind the counter..."be gentle with me" I hope to myself. Not today... she holds up each item and folds it carefully (I feel exposed, like she's describing each item to the crowd for their judgment "and he's also buying...what's this?...a lovely mini skirt...how sweet". Then, just when I think its almost over a raspy voice announces "hey, I think its my turn", apparently the woman behind the counter was eager to get this over with herself and missed one of those sickly little polyester ladies in the process.
Now I'm on hold, waylaid for further examination by my fellow shoppers. At last I get passed on to the other counter lady who does the whole public folding thing again while avoiding eye contact with me. I act overly calm and friendly like I'm buying produce at a neighborhood fruit stand, meanwhile I can feel the perspiration collecting on my brow. Fortunately there was no need for a price check so I lucked out of being the center of a store-wide P.A. announcement "hey Charlie, how much are those mini skirts in aisle 4...this guy wants to buy one".
Finally its over, my new things are in the bag and I'm on my way to the exit. Suddenly I spot a cute little dress...hmmm I wonder if they have it in my size..."no you don't" I say to myself "and don't look at those shoes over there either"!