Affirmation

Last Saturday, I was invited to a party held by my friends Troy and River.  They called it the "Post-Mayan Apocalypse Zombie Solstice Party".  What a name, eh?  I attended the party they held last year in my male guise.  As I have been trying to get out more in my femme persona, that's how I went this time around.

I wore a "Christmas" sweater which has languished in my closet since last year.  It's teal and it glitters.  I wore the sweater over a pair of purple skinny jeans, with my grey boots.  I've got one decent picture of myself from that night:

I did my nails specially for the night: one coat of Spoiled "I Don't Drink Cheap Wine" (sort of magenta) and a second coat of Spoiled "Ants in My Pants" (clear red with glitter).  I was pleased with the effect.

Where they live is not far off one of the major bus routes, so I knew I could get there using public transportation.  Halfway to my transfer point, the bus broke down.  A nice gentleman from Star Metro came out and picked me up along with another passenger in a van, and promised to deliver us to our destinations.  Through the whole experience, the transit guy spoke of me as "that woman, her and she" and addressed me as "Ma'am".  Not all of my encounters with government employees have been so polite, or so positive.  Can
I borrow a phrase from my British friends and say that I was chuffed, or is that too masculine?

The party was great.  Troy and River have lots of friends, and there was a lot of food and drink, and a bonfire and...  Yeah, it was great. I had a wonderful conversation with a woman there whose child is Ftm.  I got a few compliments on my outfit.  The food was incredible.  A good time was had by all.

Yesterday was my third therapy session.  By mutual agreement with her, I attended en femme.  It was COLD yesterday, so I dressed simply in a blue sweater, skinny jeans (not the purple ones) and my boots.  At the start of our session, she told me that I seemed the most like myself of all the times I had come to see her.  Our discussion was wide-ranging, covering many topics, and not just those related to being trans.  I did speak a bit about that, though.  We talked about music, and dancing.  She gave me a "homework" assignment: I am to dance for at least fifteen minutes every day.  Would that all of my past homework assignments were so easy.

Different Eyes, Different Vision

Here we are in a new year.  I'm going to try to write more often, and to stay on-topic.  That's as close to a New Year's resolution as you'll get from me.

I've written before about my experiments with feminine beauty enhancements.  I've gone on at length about my fingernails, culminating in last year's French manicure.  I've toed the line a few times with my eyebrows, though they don't generate the reaction they used to.  I guess waxing has become more common since I started.  Two weeks ago I decided to experiment with something a little more daring: eyelash extensions.

I thought they'd be something simple and subtle: a neat little look-enhancer that wouldn't be totally jarring with my normal day-to-day masculine appearance.  I've written here before about my mediocre experiences with mascara.  I decided to do the extensions almost on the spur of the moment.  I'd actually gone into the salon to ask about something else (leg waxing, if anyone cares) and was suffering from sticker shock over the cost.  I was determined to treat myself to something, though.  I flipped through the salon's brochure, and saw that they did eyelash extensions, and asked if they could do that instead.

Getting the extensions was certainly a new experience.  It's been a long time since I let anyone do anything that close to my eyes, and obeying the instructions to "Look that way" while the stylist leaned into my eye with a gigantic pair of tweezers was tough.  I survived, though.  The lashes I got were the shortest they offer, and they're still dramatically thicker than my natural lashes.  They were annoying at first, as I had trouble adjusting to the extra weight on my eyelids.  I probably unwitting batted them at lots of people at first, without meaning to.  I've grown used to them, though.  I like the look, but I'm not sure I want to pony up $25 every three weeks to maintain them.

Did anyone notice them?  They certainly did.  At least the women did.  The compliments have fairly streamed in, from ladies who thought they were my natural lashes to more observant people who wanted to know where I'd got them done.  From gentlemen, nothing.  I don't know if men are just less observant, or more circumspect.  I doubt it's the latter, though.  Men have always been quick to point out my manicures, and usually in a derogatory manner.  Maybe they don't want to admit to looking that close.

Tomorrow night's another Skeptics in the Pub event, and I managed to get the night off.  I am dressing up this time, so I'll get the full effect of how the lashes look with makeup.  I'll let you know how things go.

That Wasn't So Hard

My last post was a lot of "Pity poor me". I'm not very good at it. I guess it was a way of psyching myself up to do what I wanted. After ten long months in drab, I'm back in my favorite form of dress. Truthfully it's not too different from the things I wear all the time. I'm wearing a sweater with a pair of jeans. Underneath I'm wearing a bra with my forms. Up top I've got a wig and full makeup on, and I've swapped out my studs for a pair of cute hoops. I snapped some photos, and the best looking of the bunch is now my profile pic.

I thought about taking a walk down to the corner store, but I looked at myself in the mirror, and I think I'll pass. I've put on a few pounds since the last time I ventured out, and I'm not sure I want to face the public in daylight in all my "glory". I tried revising my outfit, but it's a bit warmer than it was when I started today, and I don't have much that would camouflage my middle and still leave me comfortable in the outdoors. Note to self: invest in a decent waist cincher, and investigate weight loss. Either that or I start buying fat clothes. No muumuus or caftans for me, though.

Now that I think about it, I like the old profile pic better. I was a little thinner, and more at peace with myself and the world. I would change it back, but this is more honest. It's who I am at the moment, and I've got to make peace with that.

Afraid to Look at Myself

I've taken up a lot of space on this blog this year writing about not dressing up, and my ongoing struggle to cope. I'd like to think of myself as a low-maintenance woman, but the reality is that getting dressed up is a big deal. I've got to shave, not just my face but any expanse of flesh that might be exposed to the world. Then comes makeup. I don't quite have to trowel it on, but covering my beard is a chore and a half. If and when I ever get rid of it for good, I'll wear the lightest possible foundation. Until that day, I'm stuck on Dermablend and Max Factor PanStick.

For the last couple of weeks I've been meaning to get dressed up for a bit. I haven't been planning to go anywhere. I just want to wear makeup, because I haven't in so long. Not only that; I'd like to update my profile pics, both here and over on Facebook. A couple of weekends ago I took part in that awareness of child abuse thing, and replaced my FB profile pic (taken two years ago) with a thumbnail shot of Calvin and Hobbes. I meant to replace it the following week with a new photo of me, but I just couldn't motivate myself to gussy myself up. I've planned to do it three or four times since - during my mornings after work, when I'm still relatively clean-shaven, or on my nights off, but the energy just hasn't been there.

Back when I still thought of myself as a crossdresser, I didn't worry too much about why, but I thought a lot about what to tell people about myself when their questions arose. And arise they did. It took me a while to compose an answer that made sense both to myself and others. "life is hard," I said. All around us are people who can't cope, so they drink, or use drugs, or engage in all sorts of self-destructive behavior. They hurt themselves, and sometimes others. If putting on makeup and women's clothing is the worst I have to do to be able to look at myself in a mirror, then is that so bad? I didn't think so. I still don't think so, but I've become afraid.

I've had the house pretty much to myself since last week. I'm waiting for the go-ahead to move into my new place, but I haven't been able to get in touch with the owners. You'd think I'd feel free in a place by myself, but I find myself falling into myself. I got used to communal living, with friends and family close at hand, and now I have long, solitary hours with no companionship save a mismatched pair of cats. Cats are cuddly, but they're poor conversationalists.

When I finally work up the nerve, who will I see in that mirror?

A Makeup Test

I haven't worn makeup since January, but I've tried to maintain my supplies and refresh from time to time with new products as they catch my eye. I tend to stick with stuff that works, but every once in a while I'll try something totally new, especially if I'm bombarded constantly by TV commercials and print ads in every publication.

One product I'm always looking at is mascara, as my lashes are not especially long or thick. Maybe it's because I'm technically male, but most mascaras don't do much for my eyelashes. Today I tried two different products: Maybelline's Volum' Express the Falsies in Blackest Black and Cover Girl's Lash Blast Fusion.

Maybelline Volum' Express the Falsies
http://www.maybelline.com/Product/Eye/Mascara/falsies-volume-express.htm

The ad copy promises to "instantly build 8x more volume without clumping" and to provide "the look of 300% more lashes". Maybe I didn't get it on thick enough, but I didn't see more volume or extra lashes. I see upon reflection that they suggest that the wearer repeat coats "until false lash look is achieved". That could mean wearing a LOT of mascara. Ugh. It's bad enough that I have to wear a lot of foundation. I can usually get by with minimal use of eye makeup. Maybe I'll give this product a go when I can wear full face, but at this point I'm disinclined to recommend it.

Cover Girl Lash Blast Fusion
http://www.covergirl.com/products/product.jsp?productId=lashblast_fusion_mascara

Here I must confess that I was a little predisposed toward this product. I like the original Lash Blast formula, and I always got good results with it. I only went out and bought the newer product because it was time to replace the other stuff, and I thought I'd combine replacement with a demo. I found that I got both length and thickness with this product. I definitely give this one my thumbs-up.

I can't find any of the print ads, but I've seen in the small print for one of these products that the model is wearing false lashes in addition to the mascara, and further that for best results one should wear both. I have to try, hard sometimes, to avoid looking like a drag queen, and they want me to wear false lashes AND heavy mascara? I think I'll pass.

Almost forgot: I trialed a new eye shadow with these mascaras. Cover Girl have a new product they've been cross-promoting with the Lash Blast: Smoky Shadow Blast. This is a two-part product featuring creamy shadow built into a double-ended pen. One end features a soft color on a rounded applicator. The other end is pointed, with a darker or more "bold" color. I don't like their choices of color combos. The colors they place together are complimentary, but not necessarily what I'd call the best choices. Perhaps they did this on purpose, in order to sell more shadow. Or maybe they expect their customers to be less picky. I don't know. I tried out one called "Purple Plume". The step one shadow is a pale, pinky lavender, and the step two is a purpley bronze. Neither shade looks very purple on the skin, but I think they looked okay.

More Like Myself

I haven't been out of doors en femme, as Jaye, as myself, since January. That's the longest span I've been without dressing since I moved out of Charlotte in September 2007. That's been hard to bear. My friends know I wear women's clothing all the time, but it's been so long since I presented myself in a female manner.

How fragile one's identity can be. Since I came out to the older children, I'm intermittently being peppered with questions about this and that. I've tried to be understanding and accommodating, answering their questions to the best of my ability without straying into TMI territory. I've been showing the girls my jewelry. The younger one has even asked me for tips about makeup once or twice. It's not enough. I've been reduced from an out-and-about transperson back to a closeted crossdresser. It's killing me one day at a time.

Over the weekend, Nate's ex bought a couple of sets of those stick-on artificial nails for her daughter and herself. They're the inexpensive kind, and they pop off with the least provocation. They rode off to the beach a little while ago, leaving the remains of both packs on the counter downstairs. I'm afraid I gave into temptation and picked out enough loose nails to fit myself out with a set. I haven't worn my fingernails long for a while now, and haven't kept them polished since the debacle at work last August. They're pretty, if a little gaudy, certainly flashier than I would have indulged in at a salon. All the same, it was nice to have pretty hands again, even if only for a few minutes. It was nice to feel more like myself again.

Freaky Deaky! (New Lady Gaga Video)

This is the new Lady Gaga video. It premiered about four days ago. It's got intricate makeup, elaborate costumes, and freaky shoes (courtesy of Alexander McQueen). Drag artists all over the planet are no doubt choreographing numbers based on it. I might've even found a costume for next Halloween. I love it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MsthwTUTylQ

Son of a Witch!

When I posted yesterday morning, I was suffering from a definite lack of imagination. I needed a different perspective.

My plans for Friday were blown out of the water when it was revealed that the president of our company was out of town Thursday, so our pay checks weren't signed. He was expected to return to work sometime Friday morning, and the checks were expected to be available by noon. I got my check about 1330, zipped back to Olde Town to the credit union, then hoofed it around the corner to pay the water bill. On my way to the credit union, I passed a little group of women in Friday business casual. One of them was carrying a fancy witch's hat. Eureka!

After I paid the water bill, I swung by my neighborhood WalMart, and found a selection of different hats for $8.00-10.00. At one end of the spectrum was a simple hat with black tulle draped around the crown, while at the other, they had one covered in glittery sequins. In the middle, I found a simple black hat, trimmed around the brim with black marabou feathers. Perfectamundo!

I also grabbed a set of lush fake eyelashes. I've had mixed luck with these in the past, but I figured I'll give them a shot. I normally wouldn't wear them, but this is a costume. I also grabbed another bottle of 60-second nail polish. A traditionalist would wear black, or maybe blood red, but not me. I went with a glossy indigo.

Happy Halloween!

Nothing to Wear

Well, not exactly. Halloween is tomorrow. It's generally recognized as the one day out of the year that trans folks can dress any way they please and not get pounded just for being who they are. I've dressed up for Halloween before, but most of those occasions I just wore womens' clothes. Back in those days it was such a thrill just getting out of doors in a skirt that it never occurred to me to wear any sort of costume. If I did think of it, I couldn't afford what I wanted.

My stints in the Ren faire business sort-of spoiled me on costumes. A couple of years ago, when I was a few pounds lighter (and less self-conscious about what I was carrying), I had my heart set on this sexy pirate costume I found in a catalog. My three months out of work killed that dream, and I moved home to live with my parents, to boot, which put a crimp in dressing up for about six months.

Last year, I worked. This year, I decided I needed a release. Unfortunately, my current finances won't support any kind of a fancy costume. I get paid today, sometime, but the funds in this week's check are almost all spoken for. So I'm having to improvise. I was thinking of one of my Purgatory outfits, a corset top with a pleather mini, and boots. Because of the minimist outfit, I'll have to turn the makeup up a notch or two. I was thinking of something like this:

http://www.abrilliantbrunette.com/2009/06/eris-goddess-of-strife.html

I could even use that name, "Eris, Goddess of Strife". That sounded like a winner until I did some reading. Eris is associated with a pseudo-religious philosophy called Discordianism. She even has a symbol, rendered like so:

-)(-

or

-><-

It's called the "Hand of Eris". If I had a little more time and money, I'd try to run down some earrings like that. I still might, sometime down the line. Maybe my thinking's too elaborate. I've got a plaid skirt, and some patent heels... If I can run down a white blouse. Wear one of my longer hair pieces (the strawberry blond, maybe), with the back pulled into pigtails. I've never thought of rocking the naughty schoolgirl look. I am awfully conscious of my size when I wear anything revealing. I'll think of something.

Fug My Guest

Of all the nights to not bring a camera!

I've already spoken of all the sights I didn't get to photograph while I was gallivanting about Eastern Virginia, but nothing could have prepared me for the young lady who checked in a while ago.

She was wearing a pale pink minidress, slit down to there, and matching peeptoe slingbacks with four- or five-inch heels. Her manicure and pedicure were bright, almost neon green. Her jewelry was a mix of coordinated pink and green, with the exception of a large, hematite-finished necklace that clanked like a cowbell. The crowning touch to it all was her glittery PINK eyeshadow.

I wish I had brought my camera.

Due to some sort of technical hooha, this post appears prior to the post which refers to it.