My New Year’s Resolutions

By Monika Kowalska

Every January arrives with the subtle grace of a drunk uncle at a wedding. Loud, demanding, full of expectations and absolutely convinced this is the year we finally get our life together. I have learned to greet New Year’s resolutions the way I greet miracle anti-aging creams with hope, experience and a healthy sense of irony.

This year, my resolutions are not about becoming a new woman. I worked far too hard for the woman I already am. These resolutions are about refinement, survival, joy and choosing peace over nonsense, preferably while wearing good lipstick.

Resolution One, I Will Stop Apologizing for Existing

I resolve to stop apologizing for my voice, my confidence, my femininity, my intelligence and the space I take up in a room. I am not “too much.” I am exactly enough and if that feels overwhelming to someone, they are welcome to sit down and hydrate. This includes apologizing for correcting people, setting boundaries or knowing what I want. I transitioned to live authentically, not to shrink politely.

Resolution Two, I Will Dress for Myself, Not for Approval

Yes, I will still look fabulous, but I will stop dressing defensively. No more outfits chosen solely to reassure strangers that I am “trying hard enough.” Some days I will be elegant. Some days I will be casual. Some days I will look like a French widow contemplating life over espresso. All valid. Femininity is not a performance review, and I do not need applause to feel beautiful.

Resolution Three, I Will Protect My Energy Like It Is Limited, Because It Is

I will no longer explain my existence to people who ask questions in bad faith, disguised as curiosity. I will not debate my humanity between coffee breaks. I will not exhaust myself educating those who confuse Google with empathy. My energy is precious, my time is finite, and my peace is non-negotiable.

Resolution Four, I Will Laugh More, Especially at Absurdity

Being transgender has given me a front-row seat to the theater of human nonsense. I resolve to laugh at it more often. The awkward compliments. The invasive questions. The people who think they deserve my medical history before my last name. Humor is not denial. Humor is survival with better lighting.

Resolution Five, I Will Choose Connection Over Perfection

I will stop waiting to be flawless before being visible. I will write, speak, flirt, love and live as I am, wrinkles, wisdom, scars and all. I have learned that authenticity attracts better people than perfection ever could. I am not a work in progress. I am a woman in motion.

Resolution Six, I Will Be Kinder to My Body

My body has been through negotiations, transformations, recoveries and moments of profound courage. I will treat it with respect. I will rest without guilt. I will eat with pleasure, move with intention and stop comparing my timeline to anyone else’s highlight reel. This body carried me home to myself. That deserves gratitude.

Resolution Seven, I Will Keep My Standards High and My Tolerance for Disrespect Low

Romantically, socially, professionally, I know my worth. I will no longer entertain people who see me as a curiosity, a compromise or a “learning experience.” I am not here to be tolerated. I am here to be cherished or at the very least, treated decently.

Resolution Eight, I Will Celebrate Being a Mature Woman

Maturity is not something to apologize for. It is perspective. It is resilience. It is knowing when to walk away and when to lean in. I have earned my confidence the hard way and I wear it better than insecurity ever did. Aging as a transgender woman is not a tragedy. It is a victory.

So here’s my final resolution, I will enter this new year unapologetically myself. Softer where I need to be, stronger where it matters, wiser than last year and still delightfully stubborn. I do not promise perfection. I promise presence. And honestly, that feels like more than enough.

Monika has been interviewing trans people in her blog, The Heroines of My Life, since 2013. Click here to see who she has interviewed lately.

Wearing Shein

Femulating in Space's music video for “Begin Again.”
Click here to view this music video on YouTube.
Again, thanks to Rachel Williams for the information about this femulation.

Midnight in Silk

How New Year’s Eve Became Crossdressing’s Most Honest Night

Every year, as December 31st slips toward midnight, something subtle but unmistakable happens. Sequins appear where they normally wouldn’t. Heels click on sidewalks that usually hear boots. Men who spend eleven months carefully contained by routine and expectation step into dresses, skirts, blouses, stockings, sometimes discreetly, sometimes boldly, because New Year’s Eve has long been the night when rules loosen and truths come out.

New Year’s Eve has always been about permission. Permission to drink too much, to kiss strangers, to make grand declarations that feel impossible on any other date. For crossdressers, that permission runs deeper. It’s the one night when transformation can be framed as celebration rather than confession.

In private apartments and hotel rooms, men zip up dresses with hands that shake slightly, not from fear, but from anticipation. Wigs are adjusted. Makeup is applied with care learned over years of practice or hurriedly copied from a YouTube tutorial watched one last time. The mirror reflects a version of the self that feels strangely correct, even if only for a few hours.

Public spaces tell their own story. At New Year’s parties, a “costume” label offers plausible deniability. “It’s just for fun,” someone might say, even as they unconsciously straighten their posture, soften their voice, or feel a rush of calm they don’t experience in their everyday clothes. For others, the disguise is paper-thin. Friends know. Partners know. Sometimes the whole room knows and no one makes a big deal of it, which is exactly the point.

What makes New Year’s Eve different isn’t the clothing. It’s the collective agreement that identity can be flexible tonight. That experimentation is not only tolerated but expected. A man in a cocktail dress isn’t disrupting the party; he’s participating in its oldest tradition: stepping briefly into the future you’re not yet brave enough to live in full.

For some, midnight brings a quiet reckoning. As the countdown echoes and glasses clink, there’s a fleeting thought: I don’t want to take this off tomorrow. For others, the clothes will be carefully folded away before dawn, a treasured memory sealed until next year. Neither outcome is trivial. Both are acts of self-recognition.

In recent years, New Year’s Eve crossdressing has become less hidden, more normalized. Couples attend parties together with wives adjusting their husbands’ shawls, girlfriends lending earrings, friends offering honest feedback in bathroom mirrors. The shame that once accompanied these moments is slowly giving way to something else: pride, humor, ease.

Perhaps that’s why New Year’s Eve matters so much. It doesn’t demand permanence. It doesn’t force declarations. It simply offers a threshold, a doorway between who you were and who you might be. And sometimes, crossing that threshold in silk or satin feels like the most honest way to begin again.

When the clock strikes twelve, resolutions are made. Some are spoken aloud. Others are worn, felt, and quietly understood. And as the night ends and a new year begins, one truth lingers long after the makeup comes off:

For a few perfect hours, you were exactly yourself and the world kept turning just fine.

Wearing Boston Proper

Glenn Tryon femulating in the 1932 film Rule 'Em And Weep.

Stuff #102: A Tale of Two Saturdays

It Was the Best of Times

By J.J. Atwell

You may recall the start of Charles Dickens novel A Tale of Two Cities about the French Revolution. The full quote is “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” I was reminded of that quote as I sat down to write about two recent Saturday experiences. But be cheered, that other Saturday wasn’t actually a worst experience. Just a very different one. Both Saturdays involved going out to eat, one as JJ, the other as my guy self. 

Getting Ready

In the past, I’ve observed that it takes women longer to get ready to go out than guys typically do. You’ve probably noted that as well. Did you ever think about how much time it takes you as a CD (substitute your preferred term) to get ready to go out to a nice restaurant? I have and the difference between guy mode and girl mode is striking. 

When I go out in girl mode it takes about 2.5 hours to get ready. That’s timed from shower to packing my bag and heading out. I know that’s a long time, but there is so much to do. 

Obviously starting out with a clean slate is important, so the shower and shave takes a bit more time. I know I have to shave my face twice plus having to pay attention to legs, arms and armpits. Then I need to cool off for a bit before getting into shapewear and starting my makeup. I still don’t have a good makeup routine, so I spend a lot of time trying different shades of foundation and blusher on my face. Not to mention working on the eyes, which is my big fail. Once done with that I can start to dress and figure out what jewelry best compliments the look. Add the shoes and the bag. Then it’s time to put on the wig and fuss with it to make it look best. Oh yes, and the press-on nails take me 5 to 10 minutes. 

When I go out as my guy self it takes about 30 minutes from shower/shave to out the door. That might actually be overstating it. Basically, it’s just putting on a dress shirt and nicely pressed pants, along with shoes that are fairly dressy. Brush my hair so it’s tidy and perhaps a spritz of cologne. Make sure I’ve got my wallet and keys in my pockets. Not much more is needed. 

Who Do We Dress For?

I have an ongoing correspondence with a GG follower of Stuff about the difference is how women approach getting dressed to go out and how men do. I regularly go out to some nice restaurants in guy mode. I try to up my game in the guy wardrobe department when I do that. But when sitting in the restaurant and looking around the room I’m amused by the difference in dress of some couples. What I often see is that the woman has taken pains to dress nicely, but the guy has perhaps thrown on a clean shirt. It makes you wonder if they even talked about where they were going ahead of time and if they were on the same page as to how nice the venue was. 

That brings up the question of who women dress for. Do they dress to impress their male admirers? Or do they dress to impress other women? Both? Talking with my friend Gigi, it seems that grooming standards are significantly different between men and women. We speculated that women regularly get judged by other women. They recognize when a woman has taken the time to consider what to wear and how to accessorize. It seems that guys don’t typically noice those little things, unless you are wearing a hat of a favorite sports team.

Since women have so many more options when getting dressed they unfortunately have many more chances to get it “wrong.” Sometimes you wonder if a woman has a mirror in their house or a good friend who will say “you’re not wearing that.” Other times you see a woman who has it nailed. Everything just works. The outfit is approbate for their body, their hair and makeup is tasteful and their shoes and bag are all coordinated. But who notices it more, men or women? Or maybe a CD?

I’ll Be Back

As always comments are welcome either here on the blog or by email to Jenn6nov at-sign gmail dot com. JJ is always looking for more stuff so if there is something you would like to read about, please let me know.

Wearing Bebe

Tam Williams femulating in British televison’s A Touch of Frost.
Click here to view this femulation on YouTube.

The End is Near

The End Is Near

Merry Christmas!

Wishing all my readers, “Merry Christmas!”

Love, Stana

Too Close for Comfort

“I never feel comfortable in the women’s department. I feel like I’m just a little too close to trying on a dress.”

So said Jerry in “The Red Dot” episode of Seinfeld.

On Seinfeld, Jerry did not play a trans character. In real life, I am not aware that Jerry is a trans person.

Larry David wrote “The Red Dot” episode and as far as I know, Larry is not a trans person either.

My point is that the “too close to trying on a dress” line came from a non-trans person. Admittedly, it was intended to be humorous, but I wonder if there is a grain of truth buried in that line.

Do non-trans men feel uncomfortable in women's department because they feel like they are a little too close to trying on a dress?

I don’t know because I am trans. Whenever I am in the women’s department, I always feel close to trying on a dress. In fact, I would love to try on a dress if I see one I like and I have actually done so on more than one occasion in boy mode.

But do non-trans men have thoughts about wearing dresses?

I am sure that the average guy would not admit it except in jest because he would not want to muddle up his masculine image. But it does make me wonder how close the average guy is to joining our team.

Wearing Mac Duggal

Steve Coogan femulating on British television.

Stuff 101: Pirates of the Carpe Diem

By J.J. Atwell

Huh?

Today’s subject came to me as I was visiting one of the Disney theme parks. You might have already picked up on the pirate reference. You might also know that the term carpe diem is used to urge people to seize the day. But what in the world is “Pirates of the carpe diem” supposed to mean? Since I made up the phrase I’ll go ahead and make up the definition. 

Definition

I’ll use that phrase to refer to whatever comes up to rob you of the opportunity to dress. It could be a person. It could be conflicting plans. It could be the weather. Anything that interrupts your plans to get dressed can be called a “pirate.”

Picture this: you have cleared your schedule and have been planning on getting dressed up. Maybe you’re going to stay home. Maybe you are going out in public. You’ve spent some time the days ahead thinking about what outfit you’ll wear. You know how long you’ll need to make that transition and how long you’ll be able to enjoy being your femme self. You’re going to seize the day. And then the phone rings. Darn! It’s that dastardly pirate that’s going to steal your day. 

What to Do?

The key to coping is to know that how you react affects your sanity. Remember that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. At least that’s what we used to say in the service. So when that pirate strikes, it’s time to adjust not surrender. Maybe you can just reschedule your outing. Or perhaps get dressed later. If worse comes to worse you can plan for a different day. I know that none of us could ever go long times without a bit of femme fun, so complete abstinence is never a solution to those dastardly pirates. 

Let Me Know

So let’s hear it. How do you deal with those dastardly Pirates of the Carpe Diem? Do you holler and curse? Drink rum? Ravage and savage? If you get those references, you’re probably a big Disney fan and know the rest of the lyrics to this music from the Pirates Of the Caribbean attraction. 

But seriously, I’m sure that there are many followers here who have had to deal with stolen opportunities. What did you do? Do you have a suggestion that will help somebody else cope? Let’s hear it. 

I’ll Be Back

I’m off searching for some pixie dust to fend off those dastardly pirates, but I will return. As always comments are welcome either here on the blog or by email to Jenn6nov at-sign gmail dot com. JJ is always looking for more stuff, so if there is something you would like to read about please let me know!

Wearing Dress the Population

George E. Stone femulating in the 1948 film Trapped by Boston Blackie.

Tease The Season