Sunday, March 27, 2011

My Feet Hurt

Saturday evening, I attended the annual banquet of the Connecticut Outreach Society at the Four Points Sheraton in Meriden.

I began primping at 2:30 PM and was out the door at 5 PM.

Twenty-five minutes later, I was ringing the bell at my friend Patty's home to show her what I had wrought. Patty answered the door, but she would not let me in because her and her hubby had the bug and did not want me to get it. So I removed my fur coat and modeled my outfit for her while standing on her front porch. She loved my dress and my wig; she said it is the most flattering wig she has ever seen me in.

As I put my coat on and prepared to depart, Patty said she had a gift for me. I could not imagine what she had for me as she repaired to the kitchen to fetch the surprise. She returned with a Barbie Fashionistas head with long wavy blond hair.

I have not played with Barbie dolls in awhile, but evidently they now have a Fashionistas series that allows you to swap heads with different hairdos and makeups. The swappable head  Patty gave me is called "Cutie." She gifted me it to me because of my reputation as a "fashionista." I love it!

And my reputation is well-deserved. My outfit for the banquet included a pair of sexy strappy sandals. I had worn these shoes to the banquet a few years ago and they were foot cripplers. But I figured that since I lost some weight since I wore them last, that they would not hurt as much. Fashionista that I am, I also figured that I would put up with any pain in deference to being fashionable.

As I stood on Patty's doorstep, my feet were already killing me (specifically the balls of my feet) and the night was still young. Patty said I should get gel inserts that they sell to alleviate foot pain.

I thought that that was such a good suggestion that I decided to stop at a CVS on the way to the Sheraton. So, I thanked Patty for the gift and was on my way again.

Five minutes later, I was walking into the CVS way overdressed for a shopping trip. As I walked through the store searching for the foot supplies, one guy checked me out, but the other customers paid me no mind.

I found the foot supplies rack, but what I needed was out of stock, so I exited CVS.

I had a laugh as I walked by the check-out counter. The woman working the register is the cashier that always gives me an odd look when I am in boy mode purchasing L'eggs pantyhose, Kiss stick-on nails, or Nair hair remover. Now here I was walking right past her dressed to kill in girl mod and she did not even notice.

As I got back in my car, I heard a wolf whistle. I did not look around to see where it came from; instead, I got in my car and once I was seated, I looked in the rear and side view mirrors trying to find the whistler, but I was unsuccessful.

I drove to the hotel, parked my car, and walked gingerly inside. I found our banquet room and a lot of old friends and acquaintances. Eventually, there were 50 transgender folks and their significant others in attendance ranging in age from the early 20s to late 70s. I knew about half the crowd; the other half were new to me.

I sat with a table full of old friends and our after-dinner speaker, Ethan St. Pierre. The conversation at that table was rousing and a lot of fun; it made for a great evening.

Old friends stopped by to chat and compare notes on what we had done since our last meeting, which in many cases was last year's banquet.

Wendy, who I have known for over 20 years came by and she was wearing a dress that was exactly like mine except that the silver and gold flecks in the vertical ribbons of my dress were replaced by red flecks in hers (we both bought our dresses at Dress Barn).

Wendy introduced me to one of her friends, Tracey, who is a regular reader of this blog and we had a nice conversation and short photo shoot.,

A cocktail hour, an excellent meal, Ethan's after dinner speech, a poetry reading by Tristan and three songs performed by one talented lady, Deja, filled the first half of the evening, then the DJ virtually spun platters  the rest of the evening.

Since my feet hurt, I only danced to two songs: one I requested ("Dance, Dance, Dance" by the Beach Boys) and "Legs" by ZZ Top. I considered dancing barefooted, but I did not want to ruin my fashionista image. Only kidding! Actually, I worried that I might not be able to get my shoes back on and I did not relish walking barefooted across the parking lot in 20 degree weather. (By the way, a pair of my boy shoes awaited me in the car for the drive home.)

The banquet ended at midnight and four of us moved on to the hotel bar. Saturday night was "salsa night" and the bar was full with mainly a male crowd. The testosterone level was so high that I walked out after walking in, but my friends coaxed me back in and we found four seats together at the bar.

The guys stayed away, but the lady who manages the bar and one of the cocktail waitresses engaged us in conversation. The waitress remarked that we did our makeup better than she did (she needed no makeup, in my opinion) and the manager wanted to know who did our makeup (we all admitted to doing our own makeup). I nursed one drink for an hour and departed about 1:30 AM, and I was home before 2 AM.

During the evening, a long-time friend asked, "So when are you going to get it over with and go 24/7?"

I shrugged. Later I asked her why she asked me that question and her response was the highlight of the evening up to that point.

She said that I have always put such a great effort into my presentation, that mine was the best, that I pass as a woman, et cetera., et cetera, and it follows that I should live 24/7 as a woman. She is well-aware of my marriage situation and realizes I cannot live 24/7; her remark was in jest, but with a big grain of truth embedded in it.

That highlight was topped later in the evening by another long-time friend, who I see about once or twice a year. She remarked, "You are so feminine now," I was surprised at her unsolicited comment and she continued explaining how feminine I have become in my speech and mannerisms.


Consciously, I am not intentionally acting or speaking in a more feminine manner. I act naturally without any pretenses.

Have I evolved without realizing it? Am I now completely comfortable in my skin, which is decidedly female, and have escaped all those male shackles that have been holding her back for so long?


1 comment:

  1. Stana,

    Sounds like it was a great event for all who attended.

    On a few occasions when I have gone out wearing 'first' string heels with a questionable comfort factor I would bring along a pair of 'second' string heels that may have been a bit older, perhaps with a bit more experience and or structure.
    I do remember two occasions when I made it back to my car with meaningful foot ache but was able to change into more comfortable heels.