Thursday, April 6, 2017

Sunday in New York

June 14, 2009, was one of the nicest days I ever experienced as a woman. Here is how I described it in my blog eight years ago.

Sunday in New York and I dressed up for the day: my purple dress, jewelry, mid-heel Mary-Jane pumps, suntan pantyhose, etc.

My workshop ended about 2 PM and I returned to my hotel room to freshen up. After touching up my makeup, I went outdoors (the weather was perfect) and hailed a cab.

A cab stopped, I got in and told the driver to take me to Rockefeller Center.

The driver told me he could not take me there because the Puerto Rican Pride Parade on 5th Avenue blocked the path to the Rock. So, I got out of the cab and decided what to do.

I had fallen in love with a perfume sample of Aquolina Pink Sugar that I received at Sephora, so I decided to walk the six blocks to their West 34th Street store to buy the perfume.

It was my first time out wearing the mid-heel Mary Janes I bought a few weeks ago. When I paid for the shoes, the cashier commented that the shoe was popular with dancers because they are very comfortable and I was discovering the same thing as I walked from my hotel to Sephora.

In Sephora, I walked around the store looking for the perfume. During my hunt, I passed an older gentleman and as I walked by him, he turned to me and said, "I want to give you a kiss" and then he blew me a kiss!

Flabbergasted, all I could do was whisper, "Thank-you."

I found the perfume, paid for it, and exited with my heels never touching the ground!

Since my new shoes were cooperating, I decided to walk a half-block to Herald Square and take a few photos. After taking a few shots, I saw an empty chair and sat down to take a break. While I sat, I took a few photos of myself. They turned out OK, but I could only stretch my arm so far and I wanted something better.

Seated next to me was a older gentleman with a camera case in his lap. I tapped him on the shoulder and with a big smile, I asked him to take my photo. He smiled, I handed him my camera, and he took a photo of me.

After resting for five minutes, I decided to walk eight blocks up Broadway to Times Square. I took photos along the way and with no complaints coming from my feet, I decided to head east towards Rockefeller Center.

While waiting for the traffic light to give me the go-ahead to cross Broadway at West 45th Street, I took some more photos of Times Square. A trio of women joined me at the crosswalk and one asked me if I'd like her to take my photo. Of course, I accepted her invitation and the photo I posted here is the result of her handiwork.

Five more blocks and I was in the middle of Rockefeller Center. Foot traffic was light, so I thought it might be a good time to go to the Top of the Rock. I entered the RCA Building (you call it what you want, it will always be the "RCA Building" to me) and found the ticket counter for the Top of the Rock.

My timing was good; there were no lines and I was on my way. Before getting on the elevator to go to the top, I had to go through a the metal detector and I set it off. The guard looked at me, then waved me on with the words, "Must be your bracelets, hon'."

That was a new one! I've been called "miss" and "ma'am" before, but never "hon'." I smiled at the guard and got on the elevator.

Seventy stories later, I was on top of the RCA Building and the weather was perfect. Visibility was virtually infinite and the view was spectacular. To the south, the Jersey shore was visible, to the north, Catskill peaks poked over the horizon, to the northeast, I could see the Connecticut shoreline, and all around me was The City.

I spent about an hour atop, taking a lot of photos and taking it all in. I asked a couple of people to take photos of me and more than a couple of people asked me to do the same for them.

Next, I wanted to go to Saint Patrick's Cathedral, which is just across the street from Rockefeller Center. I took the elevator back down and walked to 5th Avenue. During this short walk, a young man cut me off and immediately apologized, "Excuse me, hon'."

Second "hon'" in an hour. I started to wonder if "hon'" was a New York thing, but I didn't care. A blown kiss and two hon's meant I was passing, however, I was about to receive another term of endearment that would seal it.

As I walked up 5th Avenue toward Saint Pat's, a small group of high school boys were heading towards me. As I passed through the group, I heard one of the boys say, "Dyke."

Now I knew I was passing!

I crossed 5th Avenue and entered Saint Pat's. There was a Mass in progress and the priest was just finishing the sermon.

This was a big deal for me. I was a Roman Catholic and my religion was the source of much needless guilt about crossdressing throughout my life. I overcame the guilt years ago and now I was entering the church for the first time en femme.

When I planned this visit, I thought it would be like spitting in the eye of the Church of Rome. "Take that for all the pain and suffering you brought down upon me for so long."

But instead of feeling vengeful, I felt wonderful. The prodigal son has returned, but now he is your daughter!

I decided to attend the Mass. I remembered and recited all the prayers and when it was time for the Sign of Peace, I exchange handshakes and "peace be with you's" with all the folks around me, or so I thought.

From behind me came an anxious voice, "Peace be with you, Ma'am. Peace be with you, Ma'am."

I realized I missed someone, so I turned around and exchanged another handshake and "peace be with you" with a fellow two rows behind me.

During the Mass, I noticed a reproduction of the famous painting, the Black Madonna of Częstochowa in one of the side altars of the cathedral.

Being a Pole, I checked it out and discovered that that side altar was dedicated to the saints of Poland. It included biographies, paintings, and sculptures of all the saints. After saying a prayer for all my deceased relatives at the side altar, I exited the cathedral.

It was now 7 PM and the last meal I had was breakfast, so I was hungry and decided to treat myself by having dinner at the Rink Bar, the outdoor bar/restaurant that resides in the Rockefeller Center ice skating rink when it is too warm for ice skating. My table for one was immediately in front of the fountain, so I did not feel lonely eating solo because Prometheus was right by my side.

I had peach sangria, watercress salad, rissota crab cakes, and coffee. They were all excellent and they were all only $50 and change!

After dinner, I hailed a cab and enjoyed the ride down 5th Avenue while reflecting on my wonderful day out en femme.

Source: Carla Ruiz
Wearing Carla Ruiz.

Siva Karthikeyan femulates in the 2016 Indian film Remo.


  1. Catherine SmithApril 06, 2017

    Please understand - I’m not wanting to be critical in any way - more attempting to bring a sense of reality into being out en-femme and that after ‘passing’ and going well we sometimes come down to earth with a bump!
    When I read your bit about all the ‘hons’, Ma’ms, ‘dyke’ and blown kisses I remembered the ending to the film ‘Some Like It Hot’ when Tony Curtis says (I think), “But I’m a man” and the man driving the speedboat replies, “I know”. Perhaps the man who blew you kisses “knew” too but it didn’t matter. So you see, as well as feeling we are passing in public there will be times when we haven’t passed and ‘THEY’ KNOW BUT IT DOES NOT MATTER!
    Both scenarios of passing are to be enjoyed.
    Regards, Catherine.

    1. “But I’m a man”
      "Nobody's perfect!"
      It was Jack Lemmon and Joe E. Brown.

    2. Correct. Tony Curtis was paired with Marilyn Monroe.

    3. Catherine.April 06, 2017

      Thanks - I couldn't remember the fine detail. The message is still the same. Catherine.

  2. Stana
    I have been following you for a long time and I remember reading this post when you first ran it in 2009. I still like that dress.

    While I am what would be considered a 'lapsed' Catholic I never felt that the Church or the Lord was against me due to my gender issues. I have always felt that God does not make errors and there is no basis to think there is something wrong with be because I favor dresses, heels and hose.

    In the intervening years I have also realized the joy of dressing for Mass. I was on a business trip in Rochester and there was a church that had a Thursday night service. It was summer so I wore a brown and white, short sleeve, print dress that came to my knees along with nude hose, nude shoes and my blond wig. Like you, when it was time to do the 'show of peace' I was warmly greeted by many in attendance (there were only about 40 people at the service and it included a baptism in the middle of the Mass). I was again warmly greeted at the end of the Mass when the Priest said "Go in Peace". It was a wonderful experience that I wish I could repeat.

    Have you ever looked into the "Infant Jesus of Prague". My mother seemed to have a strong devotion to the 'Infant of Prague' and had several statutes around the house. The figurine always shows Jesus in a beautiful set of vestments that, at least to my eye, looks like an ornate dress.

    Prague is not Poland but close enough.