You Can Leave My Hat On

By Frances Vavra

Over the past six months, many of my transgendered adventures have been of a more introspective nature, or else X-rated, limiting my options for an appropriate column. However, I couldnít resist recounting one recent escapade that hopefully won't offend anyone's sensibilities too much. Please bear in mind I am going through a second (male) adolescence on hormones, and occasionally need to let off steam in order to continue upholding my gentlemanly image the rest of the time.

I have always been fascinated with unique individuals, and what might be termed anomalies. Coupled with my interest in exotic dancers, it should come as no surprise that I would discover "Amazonian headliners" (my term). These are beautiful young women who augment their upper anatomy with basketball-sized implants, advertising themselves as 36FFF, 38ZZZ, etc., dance around the country and do magazine photos, make lots of money and eventually return to their original tiny C or D shapes.

One evening found me at a small downtown dance theater watching such a headliner. Tawny was especially pretty, and gigglingly playful as she cavorted on stage during the three numbers allowed. Unlike the other dancers who completely strip, headliners keep their panties on, to focus on their special attributes. For her second number, Tawny took baseball caps from the audience, which all the guys were wearing, and hung them two at a time on herself like a goofy strapless bra, before tossing them back to the elated owners. As the final number began, she pranced down the runway to where I had placed my black gypsy fedora hat, along with a couple of dollars. Smiling at me, she asked if she could borrow it for a few minutes. I said sure, and to my surprise and secret joy she proceeded to dance the entire song with my fedora on her head, alter the strapless bra routine with it, looking chic with her long hair and man's hat. Ending her dance with a cartwheel and split, she placed the hat back on my head and disappeared behind the curtains. Several guys had been looking at me with envy, probably wondering what I had that they didn't. Well, a classier hat for one thing, and a little secret between us for another (she knew I was a woman from an earlier show last year).

Afterwards, I stood in line with her fans, who read me as a man. We exchanged "man talk" in our common appreciation of Tawny as we waited for her agent to take Polaroidís of us each posed with her. I brought a calendar foldout for her to autograph which Roxanna found for me, knowing she was my favorite dancer, and when we posed for our Polaroid, she put my hat hack on. That hat is now a true fetish object, with the scent of her perfume still faintly on the inside sweatband. My brother bought it for my birthday when I first came out as Francis, I wore it on Geraldo (we also posed for a Polaroid, but I wore the hat), it is the one in my by-line photo above, and I wore it when I stepped down as Mr. ETVC What did you say? Can you borrow it? Of course not, but you can admire it on me!