At about age 16 several things happened. Almost every day I walked past an upscale dry cleaner who usually had several ball gowns on display in the window and I found myself admiring them.
My movie heroes were John Wayne’s portrayals in westerns and war movies, but occasionally, I saw a Technicolor musical. Often these starred glorious women like Debbie Reynolds, Lana Turner, and Elizabeth Taylor. I always was fascinated by the delicious-looking clothes and in particular remember one scene in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof where Elizabeth Taylor was wearing a body-clinging slip. I thought that was fantastic and began to envy women for their ability to wear the clothes that looked great and offered freedom of expression and mood in sharp contrast to the dull drab colors and styles of men’s attire.
My next shocker came at summer camp where everyone wore shorts. My first day there I put on the uniform and when I stepped out of the tent, I got some whistles and comments from several girl campers about my great gams, which were “too good for a boy.” Was I embarrassed!! But I cataloged the incident in my brain.
The next adventurer was self-induced. While baby-sitting for a relative, I discovered an evening gown – probably a bridesmaid’s – hanging in the hallway in a pink plastic bag. Carefully I raised the plastic and found a gorgeous green velvet floor-length gown with a princess neckline. I was drawn to trying it on. Quickly I took in into the spacious bathroom, took a very quick shower, then stepped into heaven and zipped up the back. My cotton boy socks filled out the bodice wonderfully. The off-the-shoulder style added a degree of daring and romance. It reminded me of Scarlet O’Hara in Gone With The Wind and her gown made from the living room draperies.
I was ecstatic, but after a few twirls in front of the full-length mirror, I was seized simultaneously with near euphoria and panic. Quickly, but very carefully I unzipped and let the green velvet cloud slowly slide to the floor, where after gracefully stepping out of its warm circle, I very gingerly hung it up, covered it in its plastic protective cocoon and returned this marvel of femininity to its original position.
I invite all Femulate readers to share their first crossdressing experience. Try to recall that moment the first time you tried on a woman’s garment and began the process of unveiling and exploring your feminine self. To entice you to share your first time story, I will give away a free copy of my e-book Fantasia Fair Diaries to all whose stories I use in Femulate.
|An all male cast performs Guys and Dolls at the UK Caldicott Prep School in 2015.|