Allison Marsh






Who Is the Fairest of Them All

By Allison Marsh




Dear Cindy,

Phoebe (the Claw) and I drove to Bremerton to pick up a wig we had bought from King Imports, run by Margie King. I was dressed as Allison, and was wearing my most recent and irresistable wig purchase from Margie. The Claw was wearing nothing but her own hair.

While we waited for Margie to finish a platinum wig brush out for an 80 year old balding woman and watched the woman leave looking delectable and enticing, I thought, "Boy, this beautician is good at her business." Naturally I kept glancing at myself in the mirror, not wanting to miss a bit of the looks created by my own sassy little brown piece. It smiles so nicely.

Then it was The Claw's turn in the chair. Margie brought out the trim little wig that almost matched the color Phoebe uses for her own hair and was almost as short, but a little more dense. She trimmed a little here and a little there, and when we left, The Claw, who is as young as I am only three months of each year, really did look kind of like a pixie--cute, attractive, and not at all like the lady who reminds me that it wouldn't hurt me to do the dishes some times.

We both felt so cozy about how we looked that we decided to go show off at a local restaurant, and asked Margie for a recommendation. She suggested a local pancake house that has lots of people and low booths so everyone could see how nice we looked.

When we entered, the restaurant hostess looked at me and said, "Oh, I see Margie straightened your wig around so you have the same amount of hair on each side of your head. You look so much nicer than you did when you drove by earlier. We were seated.

The Claw, who by now may be 71 if I'm counting months right, immediately attracted the attention of a number of younger men, who paused as they passed our table, and complemented her on her hair do. Several of them wanted to run their fingers through it--enough that to get it fluffed up again we had to use the vacuum cleaner when we got home.

Finally it was my turn. A gentleman about ten years older than I am stopped by our table, looked at me from top to bottom, and finally said, "I think you have very nice looking shoes."

I am so devestated that I have burned my entire female wardrobe, five of Margie's best wigs, and bought five pair of wrangler jeans with maternity panels in them to cover the area where it looks like my baby is developing. The Claw has been put on notice that any guy who tries to run his fingers through her hair will be decked at my direction by the waitress.

I am writing this for you and your readers only to warn them that sometimes, try as we will, our appearences as beautiful women are still going to be upstaged by our mates. And there's really not much we can do about it except bitch and encourage them to spend all their discretionary income on new vacuum cleaners and potients with which to wash the car.

Your disappointed friend,

Allison Marsh


Back to Transgender Forum's home page