Sunday, 12 June 2011
Sublime and ridiculous
The pace of change must be hotting up. I can tell that from the fact that this is my second post in two days! I thought I should record two differing parts of the transition process. One sublime and one more ridiculous.
The sublime part is that I finally ran out of male aftershave / cologne last week - Cerruti 1881 to be precise. So I have now switched over to my long-hoarded ‘Coco Mademoiselle’ by Channel. I don’t have the best developed sense of smell but I do like this – in moderation. I only have 17 male days to go now until I head off to Belgium for facial surgery and, to be honest, the male crossdressing (that’s what it feels like) is wearing pretty thin. If you add together the hair, the eyebrows, the ear studs, the body shape (breasts and hips), and now the perfume, I now make a rather unconvincing male. I have to say at the end of last weekend I looked at my neat French manicure and just could not bring myself to get the nail varnish remover out. The clients I was working with last week know of my impending change. Truth be told, they were a little disappointed that my case for them was ‘just before’ as opposed to ‘just after’ so they were not phased by a male (sort of) barrister with very well groomed digits...
That brings me on to the ridiculous aspect of the moment. I haven’t bought any male clothes for around a year now and my sock drawer is getting pretty empty. Last Sunday found me scratching around for enough black socks for the week ahead. Sunday night found me in my hotel room washing socks by hand and drying them on the heated rail in the bathroom. Pretty ridiculous, I thought.
I also seem to be well supplied for M&S male white vests, a staple of my wardrobe for many years now. Certainly in the early stages of my transition, when I was an ‘A-cup’ or less and was hanging on to my male image and was no where near as ‘out’ as I am now, an extra layer under my shirt to confuse the issue seemed very welcome. Now I don’t care as much; you can’t hide a ‘B-cup’ anywhere near as effectively, and I have had ENOUGH of the cloying heaviness of male clothes. (Wearing collar-and-tie is almost as much as I can BEAR. Fortunately I only now have 8 or 9 days in court left before the change..) So last weekend, when packing to go away, I left the vests behind. I tend to wear white shirts for court and the lace of my bra is now clearly visible through the shirting material.
But I don’t care now.....