Wednesday, August 2, 2023

Wayback Wednesday

This post from the past chronicles a wonderful day out en femme.

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 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.

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: Best Wigs Outlet

Vesna Prague
Vesna Prague, before and after


  1. A fantastic NYC story Stana. Like you, I also have Polish heritage and am a Roman Catholic. About 20+ years ago a CD friend of mine played hooky from work, got dolled out and went to lunch as two babes in Saint Louis. After lunch I said let's go to the Basilica. So we did. The Basilica is the cathedral for the archdiocese of Saint Louis. There were no masses or other religious activities going on during a weekday mid-afternoon, so ignoring the 12 other pious folks in the building, we took numerous pictures, some more risque than others. Hopefully I am not barred from the Pearly Gates.

    Angel Amore

  2. It was good to read such a nice (and long) story. Sorry, just one question, that grabbed my attention... Are you a Pole???!!! :O I mean, sure, you have the ancestry. I am Hungarian, but we are quite "close" to the Poles, in geographic way and in spirit as well. Do you still speak some Polish? Sorry, I am a linguist, you know... :) Also, it is nice to have Vesna on the same page, she is from my current city. We both live in Prague...

    1. All my grandparents were born in Poland and emigrated to the USA in the early 20th Century. My parents spoke Polish and English, but mostly Polish at home and as a result, my first language was Polish. My parents eventually bought a television and it taught me English. I don't speak Polish much anymore because I have no one to talk to – all my Polish-speaking relatives have died. But I occasionally run into some Polish-speaking people because I live near New Britain, Conn., which has a big Polish community.

    2. Thanks for the reply :) I know, the US has a very large Polish community, at least 10 million people, if I remember well. We are there only 1,5 million maybe. I know, some had similar history there, I mean, e.g. another femulator, the actor Tony Curtis, who spoke only Hungarian until his age of 6. I love languages, and I think, if you speak more, it is useful to keep them.

  3. those days out are fabulous and like yours, mine are engraved in my memory ~ thanks for sharing this one with us 😀

  4. For the record, any dancer or actress would call those "character shoes".

    1. Yes, we do. And good ones are VERY comfy. It's hard to replace them.

  5. Thank you for this NYC Travelogue. I also had a similar church experience last year - being a Christian (Assembly of God flavor) I have also struggled with Deuteronomy 22:5. But I got up my courage one Sunday morning and attended a church here in Spokane that is LGBT Friendly. The details are far too detailed to go into here - let's just say it was similar to yours, but with some unwanted attention, too.

    1. Julie/All, I none of you still experience guilt because of carefully chosen verses that are not picked out today by persons who want to attack us. Almost none of the laws in Deuteronomy are observed by even the most Orthodox of Jews (not to mention the proper understanding of the meaning for the people at the time). If anyone is still struggling there is an excellent writer, Matthew Vines, who you can Google who researched the texts exhaustively. Anyway, Stana’s post emphasizes the love she felt in church. May we all feel that live, regardless of our individual spirituality. Lisa

  6. Two thoughts coming from your travelogue. As a former New Yorker now married to a Washingtonian we spent many Saturdays in mid-town Manhattan perusing the stores. Secondly, having grown up in an oppressive church I knew for sure I was destined to go to hell because I dabbled in my mother's lingerie draw. I am at peace with who I am. Now all I have to deal with is the problems other people have with males who need to wear the attire of a woman.

  7. Rachel McNeillAugust 02, 2023

    Stana, “Hon” as a form of address is pretty common here in Maryland, especially among older generation Poles and other Central Europeans in Baltimore.

    The demographic mix in “Bawlmer” has shifted to more Black, more Latino as the city has lost population over the last 50 years and the generation of Central European immigrants that flocked to factory and harbor jobs has died off. Still, the ise of “hon” is pretty common

  8. As a freestyler (not a crossdresser) I wear dresses to church as a man with the name of John. Yes, I also wear heels and makeup, including nail polish, and have hair beyond shoulder length along with a bust. Yet it would be awfully difficult to pass as a woman as I sing second bass in choirs, down to C2 (2 ledger lines below the bass staff)..
    There are a couple of reasons for my attire:
    1. I am EXTREMELY tired of the coat and tie outfits men have to wear for formal attire.
    2. I am tired of seeing so many women appear at church services wearing trousers. If women can wear trousers men should be able to wear dresses.

    I am an Episcopalian in good standing with the congregation and the priests. I have gotten virtually no pushback from my attire.


  9. Gracie RoseAugust 02, 2023

    I'm so glad that you felt at peace at St. Patrick's, stayed and enjoyed the Mass. Despite the inappropriate use of clobber verses from the bible by some judgmental Christians, I still attend weekly Mass. However, I attend in drab as I am "in the closet" Once I put on a nice dress, and went to the Cathedral downtown for Mass en femme. It was wonderful, and I was greeted warmly by those seated around me. I would like to have another opportunity. In fact I'd prefer to visit God every week without hiding myself. However, God knows my spirit,
    Since we have broached religion, I am praying for your wife and hoping that she can get through her health problems soon.

  10. MS Prague is beautiful as a female.