Now, as terrific as that article was, I wondered
what it would be like if a dash of humor and wackiness was added,
if we were to take a walk on the wild side and look at those
adventures through the eyes of someone who should either be doing
stand up comedy, or wearing a straitjacket. Since I happen to
think I fall somewhere in the middle, I decided to have a little
fun. Let me stress, here and now, that everything you're about
to read actually happened to me over the years, proof positive
that I was a stone cold moron when I started doing this crossdressing
stuff. I'm not afraid to laugh at myself occasionally (I do a
lot of that) and I hope you get a few chuckles from my adventures
too. I know I do when I think back to those nutty days of blissful
transgendered ignorance!
I put on my first pair of panties, and wondered why there wasn't a fly front on them.
I tried walking in my mom's high heels, and thanked God the floors were carpeted,
because I kept falling down.
I put a bra on for the first time,
backwards by the way, and, yes, just like the old jokes goes,
it fit better.
I accidentally ruined a pair of
my mom's pantyhose, and hyperventilated from panic.
I decided it was time for a dress,
and virtually dislocated my arms trying to use that damn zipper
in the back!
I was stubborn enough to try on
a dress that was too small for me. It fit pretty good, provided
I didn't breathe.
I fell in love with a pair of
funky boots mom owned. Why then did it seem to take all day to
lace them up?
I practiced going down stairs
in high heels. Needless to say, I got down a lot faster than I
intended.
I started raiding my mom's closet
to feed my habit. I think I got more use out of her clothes than
she did!
I boldly tried on one of my mom's
Afro wigs. Picture if you will, Linc from "The Mod Squad"
in drag, a terrifying sight indeed.
I attempted to put pierced earrings
on unpiereced ears. I couldn't figure out why it hurt so much
when I tried to do that.
I decided to buy my own stash
of women's clothes. The thrift shops and five and dime stores
made a killing off me.
I finally learned what I did was
called "crossdressing". You mean it's a religious thing?
Praise the Lord and pass the lipstick!
I first experimented with makeup,
bought the wrong shade and freaked out when I looked like Al Jolson
in reverse.
I used crazy glue to keep press-on
nails in place, and panicked later when I had trouble getting
them off.
I took those first pictures of
myself fully dressed. Talk about hideous! I was actually amazed
I didn't break the camera lens.
I went to have those pictures
developed. I walked into the shop wearing sunglasses and gave
a phony name. Paranoid? Nah!
I saw a picture of my very first
crossdresser. Finally, someone who looked uglier in drag than
I did!
I watched Donahue parade around
in a skirt on TV. Man! He made even my legs look like a million
bucks!
I attended my first Renaissance
meeting. Tense? Let's just say the "Rocky" statue was
less rigid than I was that night.
I was the prototypical wallflower
no one could get a word out of at meetings. Nowadays, people can't
get me to shut up!
I ventured out in public for the
first time in daylight. When a man said "Good afternoon,
Miss", I turned around to see who he was talking to.
I was just a dull, drab nobody. Today, I'm a crossdresser, a rare and colorful bird who's
having the time of her life!