The Sky’s The Limit

By Norah Blucher

I’ve done a lot since making my debut upon the world as an out and about woman. I’ve attended trans events, skied, attended formal symphonies, been to seven states and immersed myself into society as an everyday woman. I’ve done more as female than I ever thought I would, but in almost fifty days out as female (I have actually lost track, but it is somewhere around there) one goal has eluded me, flying en femme.

Though I would much prefer to drive, I fly fairly often and my work would actually prefer I flew more and drove less, so I have ample opportunities, but had been waiting for the right time. I thoughtfully started paring down what I needed on trips, contemplated a right bit about how I would pull it off and sought advice from others who had done it about what to expect. I was nervous for sure, but patiently waited for the right trip to have a go at it.

A while back now, I had a trip to New York and Connecticut planned, and my car then needed some repairs, so I decided to fly. I was also planning to attend an event as Norah with one of my sisters, which meant Norah would be checking a bag, so this seemed as good a time as any. I had envisioned my first flight en femme to be an easy non-stop from LaGuardia or something, but instead it would be on the way home from little White Plains, NY, with a layover and everything, so following much of my other exploits en femme, I’d be jumping into this head first as well. Here we go!

The Saga Begins

It had been a long week already with a right more rigorous schedule than usual that included working a Saturday, topped off with a T-Girl party on Saturday night. I was quite knackered to say the least, but was thankfully able to sleep in on Sunday and take my sweet time getting ready for my 5 PM flight home on Sunday.

Once I get a routine down I’m good, but it took me a bit to reconfigure everything. All my work stuff is in a rather male type bag, so I had brought my female travel tote to carry with me, and utilized my roll aboard suitcase to hold all the work kit. My large checked bag which had gotten all my femme kit this far was now rather empty with me wearing my shapewear, wig and everything. My male clothing thus went into the large checked suitcase and my tote contained my wallet, snacks and my usual essentials plus some makeup essentials and hair brush.

Now I know you are all wondering what I wore, and it may not be what you expected. I had always envisioned my first femme flight in some sort of business attire, my heels clicking through the terminals of Laguardia, JFK or Logan airports, but not today. Though they often go smoothly, flying between smaller airports can sometimes turn into an adventure worthy of Tolken, the length of which is often unknown. I wanted to be comfortable, but did not want to digress into the gym wear I see so many females travel in now. 

I settled upon a nice pair of jeans with my block heeled Mary Janes which would be comfortable to stand or walk in a reasonable distance if necessary. I also chose a nice green square neck tee I had recently gotten from an LL Bean outlet on a previous trip. I have come to love this top and ordered more as unlike much of the clothing today, it has not much stretch, but has a very feminine cut and is not clingy. It drapes nicely and gives me a reasonably good shape without a corset. It was a bit chilly so I wore a light zip up sweater as well so I would not have to mess my hair up pulling something over my head when going through security. I also packed a light cashmere poncho to wear once I cleared security. Ponchos are quite fab in that they hide any un female irregularities from a lack of corset, allow a lot of freedom of movement when wrangling bags and also allow you to inconspicuously adjust your bra straps or something in the less than private cattle cars we consider airplanes these days. Truly think about it. Aside from your own spouse or family, modern air travel puts you in closer contact with other humans than most anything else and even that depends on your relationship with your spouse, LOL.

Anyway, after all this there was little time to spare as I headed off toward the airport.

Checking In

Dropping off the rental car was as uneventful as I had imagined it would be and though they confirm your ID when checking a bag, I’ve never endured any scrutiny at this point. It all went smoothly and the lady checking my bag even commented on the cool weather and complimented me on my sweater! So far so good.

Next was going through TSA security, the part I was the least sure of. I’m so comfortable out as Norah at this point that I had no real fears, but I was curiously nervous how this would go, mainly due to my shapewear. You typically have to remove jackets, sweaters, shoes and what not to go into the scanner. Women obviously wear bras with no issue, but mine contained silicone breast forms and I had on a right bit more under my jeans than a silky pair of knickers, wearing my usual padded panty with a shapewear short containing my silicone bum and hip pads. Would this be an issue? Only one way to find out and as long as they took me to a private room, I could not care less if they wanted to search me. A pain for sure, but I had nothing to hide.

As for IDs, I know a lot of to-do has been happening with gender markers and such, but in my case I have a non Real ID driving license with my male picture and marker and thus travel with my passport, which also denotes me as male and has a picture of the male I sometimes pretend to be. I’ve done the ID things many many times checking into hotels and such and it has never been a big deal to me personally. When dealing with legal situations like police, entering a secure building and now TSA, I am genetically a male, with a legal male name. My picture shows me in my raw form just as the thousands of other females who rolled out of bed and took a horrid ID photo. My hair color with a wig does not match my ID just like every girl who dyes her hair and if I want to wear female clothes and makeup that is my business. I’m no different than David Bowie or Jon Bon Jovi taking a flight, LOL. So with this all in mind, I next headed over to the TSA line.

I do not have Pre-Check or anything, so off to the commoner’s line I went, which consisted of just me. I told you this was a small airport! The young chap at the desk called me over and I handed him my passport and looked into the camera. The chap then looked at the passport, then at me and perhaps hesitated a bit more than I am used to, before handing it back and biding me a good day.

Over at the bins and scanner another chap greeted me and told me to remove my sweater, belt and shoes. He then asked the dreaded question, do you have any electronics? To which I replied I had a right many, so lets get some more bins!

Ugh! I do hate this. Most airports now have you keep everything in your bag, but a few have you remove electronics. If I am familiar with an airport, I prepare for this accordingly, but such was not the case that day. So I opened my bag and removed the work bag and started pulling out the work computer, my personal computer, the iPad, and pulled my wallet containing my phone from my tote. Satisfied we had everything out, it was all sent through the scanner and I was sent over to the human scanner.

I walked in, held my hands up and was asked to step out by the bloke standing guard at the scanner… and also to stand to the side. Oh boy, what now?

Without even asking a preference on my part, a female agent came over to me and smiled and said she needed to check my wrists, which she did and then she informed me she had to check around my neck and she just ran her fingers around my neck under my shirt before smiling and sending me on my way. She did not say and I did not ask, but I guess my bracelets and necklace required further inspection. And with that my bins emerged from the scanner and I was off. I had made it in!

I Will Get Home, Won’t I?

Having passed that hurdle, I was on cloud nine and was then instantly deflated, the first leg of my flight was delayed. Okay, let’s get some food.

This was a small airport and had no restaurant and no bar. I went to the little convenience store, got some soda, a pre-packaged charcuterie spread, some biscuits and settled in at the eating area. I dug out my computer and got some work done while I waited. No big deal, happens all the time.

And then I waited some more. And then more again. Delay after delay was announced, and I learned that my incoming flight had been diverted due to a mechanical issue and would not be coming until it was fixed. I was initially comfortable knowing I had an almost four-hour layover at Reagan airport in Washington, DC, but that was quickly shrinking. And then I watched my connecting flight get delayed as this whole thing turned into a neck-and-neck horse race as I waited to see if the gap would close or if I could get home.

On the bright side, I had a bit of conversation to pass the time. I’m not sure if this was a friendly place or it was due to me being female, but a few other women were quite chatty with me. The lady perched on a stool near me was also on my flight and working also, but we both periodically stopped, chatted a bit and then went to work again. 

At one point, another lady came and sat for a bit on the stool between us and we had quite a lovely conversation. Nothing more than friendliness, but she was quite open about where she was from, having used to live in the area and returning to visit family, etc. She also seemed quite interested in me and where I was from and we discovered we had once lived very near each other in a different state. Such a small world! She chatted a bit with the other lady as well and then left to catch her flight, biding us, “I wish you ladies good luck and a safe trip.”

As a side note, I must say these interactions never cease to thrill me, but also leave me confused as well. I’ve no complaints whatsoever, but time after time I have these interactions and I seemingly am not read or if I am, no one lets on that they find me different and I am just regarded as another female and treated as such.

At one point, I had to use the ladies’ room and after doing my business went to wash up. These public bathrooms at airports are always a game show. You have five sinks each with their own automatic faucet, soap and dryer or towel dispenser… and seldom do all things work at any one spot. Like a rerun of Keystone Cops, one has to wet their hands, slide over to another sink to get soap, go back and rinse and then find a dispenser with towels. Such was the case that night and as I fought with a towel dispenser another lady laughed and called me over when she found one that worked, LOL. I guess we were all having a moment this day.

Returning to my stool, the other lady on my flight informed me of a further delay and I watched my connection time shrink to three minutes… if this was the last delay.

A mate of mine who once traveled the world for business once described travel in the Northeast U.S. as a series of bad bets. No airports fly directly to each other, trains run weird routes and drop you off in one spot, necessitating you find your own way to the next train and traffic on the roads can be a nightmare. A series of bad bets for sure, and in today’s craps game, I just rolled snake eyes. It was 9 PM at this point and I was giving up and went to the service desk to rebook for the next day.

A woman with a baby had just berated the lady at the desk, as the airline app kept showing us delays, but they had not informed us at the airport. I realized it was not her fault and was as nice as possible. She said the plane was about to depart and head our way, but I said three minutes to connect was too close for me.

As she rebooked me, I knew I had made the right call as her radio announced the incoming plane had just returned to the gate in Norfolk, VA, with more mechanical issues and they were looking for a new plane to put everyone on. Flying en femme would have to wait I guess.

Comraderie of Females

As I returned to my stool, I informed the lady I had been chatting with that I was throwing in the towel and she said she was too. We were both on our computers making arrangements for the night, and what happened next surprised me.

Asking where I was staying, she informed me she had found a good deal at one of the nearby hotels and inquired about splitting an Uber! There was nothing naughty in this that I could detect and it sort of confirmed that she was either reading me as completely female all this time or at least an extremely unthreatening T-Girl, as I cannot picture a solo traveling female telling a bloke where she was staying and offering to share a ride, would they?

My work prefers us to stay at certain chains and has no reservations about us getting rental cars and I informed her of where I was going, I was renting a car and extended an offer back to her. She declined as my place had more expensive rates, but we wished each other well and parted ways.

As I returned to the rental car counter, someone from the airline was waiting to return my checked bag to me and the bloke at the counter remembered me from earlier and looked confused to see me again and assumed I had an issue with my rental. I laughed and told him everything was fine and the airline had decided I was going to stay another night. He checked me in with a car and I headed to my hotel for the night.

Halfway to the hotel it occurred to me that I had never rented a car en femme, and I had just done it without giving it a thought. Perhaps I was just so knackered or perhaps I’m just so comfortable out in the world as Norah that I do not differentiate much between my two sides anymore.

Anyway, it was a horrid day for travel, but I had gotten through the hard parts. I had just not stepped on a plane. As I went to bed I really did not think I had it in me to do this en femme another day and figured I would travel back home en homme. The whole trip had been bloody exhausting, but I still felt a sense of accomplishment, coming as far as I had, and felt it had been worth the effort.

As always, loves, questions or comments are welcome below or you can email me at nblucher at-sign proton dot me.

Wearing Rag & Bone

Luis Montalbert femulates Kylie Minogue on Costa Rican television’s Tu Cara Me Suena. Click here to view this femulation on YouTube.

Let’s Make Up

I received an e-mail from a reader who is having problems with her makeup regime. She has bought books on the subject and visited websites to hone her makeup skills, but she complains that the “experts” are often in disagreement about how to apply makeup. She asked me for help.

I made two suggestions.

Experiment.

If the experts disagree, try doing it each way that they recommend. Then see what works best for you and incorporate that into your makeup routine.

I have been at it seriously for nearly 40 years and I still experiment with my routine. If I find something new that may work for me, I try it. If it works, great; if not, I chalk it up to experience.

Get made over.

You can read books, visit websites and watch videos on makeup application, but nothing beats getting a makeover. When you get a makeover, the cosmetician will do her magic on you (and not some model in a book or video), so whatever she does will be specific to you. And you can ask questions and take notes to your heart's content.

Getting a makeover may be easier said, than done. I live in a progressive part of the USA and I have never been turned down when I sought a makeover, whether it was in a small local salon or a big franchise store in the mall.

Your mileage may vary depending on where you live. If you live in the country, head for the city, specifically a mall near a city. In my experience, M•A•C and Sephora are franchise makeup stores located in many malls that will makeover femulators without hesitation. (I have had makeovers at both. For what it's worth, my best makeover experience ever was at Sephora in the West Farms Mall in West Hartford, Connecticut.)

Wearing Shein

Two Muxes

Lemonade

I received the following e-mail.

I am a life-long TV, so I feel able to comment.

My advice to nearly all those who contribute to your blog is simple:

Throw away the cameras and look long and hard in the mirror. Look at the women around you; you should blush with embarrassment. Cover your shoulders and knees and get rid of those “long luscious locks.” Very few women over 40 look good with long hair. None of you (and me) really look anything like women and that is a tragedy.

By the way, I have no photos of me. The last that were taken were 30 years ago for an article in The Times. No! It was 40 years ago – time flies.

Stop being delusional. A mirror does not lie except at a fairground.

Look at the professional femulators and actors. Even they with all the advantages – professional makeup, expensive wigs, etc., are rarely convincing and face the reality of a cruel life.

We’ve all been dealt a lousy hand!

My response... 

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. That is especially true if you are a male-to-female transperson.

We have a lot going against us. Compared to the quintessential woman, we do not compare favorably. We are too tall, too heavy, too wide, too hairy. Our voices are too deep, our faces too masculine, and our bodies too unshapely. We are just too too. 

So should we all hide in the closet because we don’t resemble the quintessential woman?

Just like my trans sisters, there are cisgender women who don’t resemble the quintessential woman. Nonetheless, we are all women and we try to make the best with what we have.

And by the way, the mirror does lie. I always look fab when I look at my femme self in the mirror; to see what I really look like, I take a selfie to return to planet Earth.

And so it goes.

(Danger, danger, Will Robinon, this post is a summer rerun.)

Wearing Leau

Walter Goggins femulating on television’s Sons of Anarchy.

Stuff 84: Pronouns

By J.J. Atwell

A Quagmire

Way back in Stuff #7, which Stana published almost two years ago on August 28, 2023, I wrote a bit about the use of pronouns when referring to ourselves and other CDs. (Click here if you are curious about what I wrote then.) Go ahead, I’ll spare you the grammar lesson this time. 

So why am I revisiting pronouns today? I’m finding it a bit of a quagmire. 

Why the Confusion?

When it comes to CDs the proper pronouns to use can be confusing. Underneath this feminine finery, I’m biologically male. I spend 99.9% of my time presenting as male. My usual pronouns are he/him/his. Does putting on a dress automatically change that to she/her/hers? 

When to Use Them

Women have grown up being referred to using feminine pronouns. For them, it’s an affront to be referred to in any other way. Similarly, men are referred to using male pronouns and it’s often considered an insult to use the female pronouns with them. But, yes, you knew there was a but coming – what about those who present more androgynous? 

Let’s consider what pronouns to use when you aren’t meeting in person. Say you are simply texting somebody – a person that you know in both male and female lives. Is it “he” when discussing typically male stuff? Whatever that might be? And is it “she” when talking about girly stuff? Do you switch back and forth during a conversation? 

To further complicate the issue, what do you do when talking to your SO about a M/F married couple you know from your CD life. Do you talk about the CD half of the couple as male or female? Do you use the CD’s guy name or girl name? And does your SO make that leap when you switch pronouns while still talking about the same person? I really have no answer for this. I tend to talk about the CD in guy terms mostly unless it’s specifically about his/her CD side. But the potential for confusion is still there.

I Asked ChatGPT

First let me say that I don’t use ChatGPT to write Stuff. What you read here is all my own thinking directly from my brain to my nimble fingers and onto the screen. In addition to being a CD, I’m somewhat into new technology. I have a “smart home”. I’ve been using PC’s (Apple products) since 1978, and I’m also a ham radio operator like Stana is. So I’m no stranger to the current trends in the tech fields. 

Until now, I avoided playing with artificial intelligence (AI), but on a whim I decided to give it a spin. One of my first attempts was to ask ChatGPT about what pronouns to use when addressing a crossdresser. The response was...

the respectful approach is to ask the person directly what pronouns they use. Crossdressing is about clothing and gender expression, not necessarily gender identity, so pronoun preferences can vary.

A Good Rule of Thumb

• If you know the person well or if the context allows, ask politely, “Hey, just to be respectful — what pronouns do you use?

• If they’re presenting as a particular gender, use the pronouns that match their presentation unless told otherwise. For example, if someone is presenting in a feminine way and hasn’t said otherwise, it’s respectful to use she/her.

Always follow their lead and if you slip up, just correct yourself and move on — that shows care and respect.

I actually think that’s a pretty good answer. I’d love to hear how you approach the issue. 

I’ll Be Back

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 let me know what you would like to read about.

Wearing Marina

RIP: Terrence Stamp of The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert fame died Sunday (age 87).

Dressing for the Weekend

A Proper Fit

Eleanor marched Millicent into La Belle Silhouette with all the authority of a general inspecting her troops. Millicent, her feminized husband, shuffled behind, skirt riding slightly high and blouse tugged nervously.

“Darling,” Eleanor said, “today we conquer the girdle. And no complaints. I will not hear them.”

Millicent groaned. “I really don’t know why this is necessary—”

“Oh, hush,” Eleanor snapped, smiling anyway. “Your silhouette is… chaotic without proper guidance. Step in here, my dear, and let the professionals show you the ropes.”

The boutique assistant, a spry woman named Colette, handed Millicent the girdle. “First time, huh?”

Millicent swallowed. “Yes. And possibly… my last.”

Eleanor’s lips twitched. “We’ll see about that.”

Millicent struggled with the hooks, squeaking as he tried to fasten the last one. Eleanor leaned in, her eyes twinkling. “Need a hand? Or shall I call the fire department?”

“Very funny,” Millicent muttered.

Once secured, Millicent attempted to walk. The girdle pinched in awkward spots, and he teetered slightly. “I feel like a mummy,” he complained.

Colette laughed. “No, no! You’re a work of art! Graceful lines, elegant posture. Just… take smaller steps.”

Eleanor patted his hip. “Mummy? You look magnificent. Now straighten that back. Pretend the world is your runway and you owe it a dazzling performance.”

Millicent stumbled slightly, and Eleanor stifled a laugh. “Oh, do stop wobbling, Millicent. You’re embarrassing the boutique… and me. Mostly me.”

By the time they were done, Millicent had learned to breathe through the hooks, walk without flailing, and smile awkwardly at his reflection. He was exhausted but… undeniably presentable.

Eleanor took his hand. “See? Not so terrifying. You survived your first girdle fitting. And you looked adorable doing it.”

Millicent muttered, “Adorable… yes, terrifying… also yes.”

Eleanor laughed. “You’ll get used to it. And one day, you’ll thank me for all this refinement.”

Millicent glanced down at the snug, perfectly shaped girdle and sighed. “I suppose… maybe I already am.”

Wearing Boston Proper

Daniel Craig

Beard in Hiding

One good thing about getting old is that my beard turned gray and that eliminated the need to use a beard cover. When my beard was dark, I used a beard cover on the muzzle of my face --- RCMA beard cover BC2 from Alcone. It is expensive, but lasts forever; in fact, I never used up the tub of beard cover I bought years ago.

I recommend orange beard cover (BC2) and not some other color because blue is the color you are trying to hide. To hide blue, you use blue’s complementary color, which is orange. (Blue and orange are opposite each other on the color wheel.)

If you use another color of beard cover, it may look like it is doing the job when you look in your mirror, but have your picture taken and you will still see blue in your photos. Only orange beard cover gets rid of the blues in both your mirror and your photos.

After a close shave using a shaving gel (like Edge) and a multi-blade manual razor (like Gilette's Fusion), I apply the beard cover to my muzzle. Then I apply my usual foundation over the beard cover. If you use a moisturizer and/or a primer (like I do), those should go on before the beard cover, that is, put on moisturizer, primer, beard cover and foundation, in that order. (Mom never told me how complicated being a girl can be!)

Wearing Black-Tie Ballroom.

Ron Howard femulating in an episode of television’s Happy Days.
By the way, that’s Ron’s father, Rance Howard, on the right.

Day or Night

In the past, I usually went out en femme at night. Not so much now. These days, I usually go out during the day. Age is the main reason.

In my eighth decade on the planet, my eyesight is still correctable to 20/20, but driving in the dark is not a joy ride. Being blinded by on-coming vehicle headlights is no fun.

So I prefer daylight outings. It is not only safer driving in daylight, but it is also safer on a civilian encounter level. The chance of being accosted is less likely in daylight – at least it feels safer to me. (I still get chills thinking about the night I exited a gay bar in Hartford and was followed by a guy who wanted to get better acquainted.) 

In addition to that too close encounter, I disliked going to gay bars for a couple of other reasons. Smoking in bars and restaurants was still legal back then and after leaving the bar, my clothes and wig stunk from the cigarette smoke. Also, I felt out of place in the gay bar. Gays were not interested in socializing with me no matter how fabulous I looked!

And so it goes.

Wearing Boston Proper

Tom Holland femulating on television’s Lip Sync Battle.
Click here to see this femulation on YouTube.

Stuff 83: Support

By J.J. Atwell

We all need support

Let’s consider the subject of support today. No, not the kind of support you get from wearing a bra. I’m talking about how we get support from individuals, groups and the internet that help us present our best feminine self. Support that also helps our mental well-being. 

I start from the position that everybody needs support. It doesn’t matter if you are male or female. It doesn’t matter if you are CD/Trans/Whatever, everybody needs some kind of support. Sadly, some people don’t think they need support or, worse, providing support is enabling weakness. 

I was corresponding with a GG reader of Stuff and she mentioned that when out with friends they always take the time to compliment each other on some aspect of their outfit. They do it even when they don’t know if the friend needs it. It is just something that women do. 

As far as CDs like myself go, I’m lucky enough to get support from several sources. Broadly categorized as individuals, local groups and the internet. And yes, dear readers, that includes you that provide me with support.

Individual Support

I’ve developed a level of trust and support with a few individuals both GG and CD. I can exchange thoughts about being out en femme with them and get good feedback. That support helps me present better and more importantly, helps me gain confidence in myself. Even those of us who have developed confidence still need support to maintain it. 

I also try to reciprocate with other CDs. Sometimes the occasion is such that the individual is going through a rough stretch and just needs to vent. Sometimes everything is fine, but a compliment is always welcome. I’m making an effort to offer support for others and I hope you do as well. 

Group Support

Belonging to a local CD group is a huge level of support. You get to see and converse in person with others in similar situations. You also get an excuse to get out of the house and be yourself in the outside world rather than being trapped in your house. 

Our group meets monthly and some meetings are in a private clubhouse while others are a Girls’ Night Out at friendly restaurants. The group also has special events like a clothing swap and a beauty pageant. All of them provide our members with needed support.

Meetings of local support groups are a golden opportunity to get support. They are also a great place for you to provide that support for others. Those of you who are novices might wonder how they can be supportive to those who have been dressing for a long time. It’s easy, just compliment them on their outfit and ask their opinion about something. That gets the ball rolling and establishes support mechanisms for both of you. Yes, the line between individual support and group support is a bit blurry. 

Internet Support

It seems to me that you can broadly consider the various Internet sites as a support group. Some sites are more one-way than others. For example, Femulate is more about Stana and a few contributors sharing their thoughts, although there is some feedback from the readers. Yes, there is a comment section where you can post your opinion, but in my experience few of us actually do that. As an aside, I’d like to thank those who do comment on my Stuff, it is appreciated!

Beyond those sites, there are also discussion boards, like Crossdressers.com, where individuals post about their experiences and others chime in with their opinions. This gives close to the individual support I wrote about above. The difference is that those commenting don’t really know you and might not understand all the ramifications of your situation. Still, these provide a good way of getting support and providing support for others. 

I’ll be back

I’d like to close with my thanks for Stana providing this platform for me to express myself and for the folks that comment. It is a great source of support for me. 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 ModCloth

Tracy Morgan femulating Maya Angelou on television’s Saturday Night Live.

Men Being woMenly