sweetdreams
04-23-2017, 06:15 PM
So the next two big to-do items on my evolution list are buying a wig and entering into the world of makeup. So far I haven't done anything above the neck.
I've shared my wig shopping experience, emailed the store and told them who I was, went into the store in male mode, was treated like any other customer while other female customers came and went, and nothing unusual happened. No angry mob with torches and pitchforks showed up wanting to burn me at the stake.
Last week I started looking for a "makeup artist" to teach me about makeup. Reached out to three explaining who I was (a crossdresser) and what I wanted. All three responded positively. I selected one and we set up a session for Saturday at 2 PM. In her response to my taking this next step she said "How exciting for you!!"
The "artist" I selected was a women who has a "studio" in the basement of her house that seats about 10 people. She has 15 artists who work out of the studio. They specialize in weddings (do a couple of hundred a year), but also provide makeovers, makeup instruction, and hair styling.
So I arrive and as we are walking down the stairs I find myself awash in a sea of women, all getting prettied up in one way or another. Saturday is the busiest day of the week. There were about 8 female clients and plus the artists, so there are probably close to 18 women there. I'm the only male in the place and I'm in drab mode. I'm led to a makeup station in the center of the room. Two girls start to work on me (the owner and another artist). We talk about some of the difference in male and female faces and the effect I'm going for (no not drag queen, I want to blend). The owner shapes my eyebrows. Then the second artist did my makeup. She did half my face and I did the other half so I could learn how to do it. They kept a running list of makeup items they used and recommend I purchase so I can do my own makeup at home.
As this is happening, everyone else is minding their own business. Female customers are coming and going. No one seems to really care that I'm there. I'm treated like any of the other clients. I'm just one of the girls and that's how they talked to me.
After two hours (it's now 4 PM) and we are done. At this point all of the other customers are gone except one who is getting her hair styled. This leaves me with 4 or 5 of the artists. I'm sitting and absorbing the new me in the mirror. Everyone is relaxed with the day done and we are chatting about what it's like to be a crossdresser. No one is critical or judgemental. They genuinely seemed interested in who we are and the challenges we face. Questions like "how long have you been crossdressing", "when did you start", "are you gay", "how often do you dress up", etc. I'm also offering other insights as to what we do and our issues (i.e. reactions of our SOs, our potentially evolutionary path from being in the closet to mingling with the muggles, the tender young ages most of us start this journey on, etc.). We talk about being feminine and girly. The girl who did my makeup confesses she has a fascination with the whole trans scene which is why they picked her to work on me. So for the next half hour we continue to chat and they are looking over my wig pictures and offering their picks. They called over their hair stylist artist and she makes her three favorite wig picks and explains why.
Half an hour later and it's 4:30. They clean me up and we talk about the next session. I'm going to buy my first wig and then book another session with them. They'll continue teaching me more about makeup and then their hair stylist will work on my wig to tie the whole package together. In the meantime I'm supposed to practice with the makeup so they can critique my work the next time we meet.
It was a surreal experience. My brain is still processing what happened. I'm still kind of pinching myself to make sure it wasn't some kind of dream. A term our British members might use to describe where I'm at is "godsmacked."
I've shared my wig shopping experience, emailed the store and told them who I was, went into the store in male mode, was treated like any other customer while other female customers came and went, and nothing unusual happened. No angry mob with torches and pitchforks showed up wanting to burn me at the stake.
Last week I started looking for a "makeup artist" to teach me about makeup. Reached out to three explaining who I was (a crossdresser) and what I wanted. All three responded positively. I selected one and we set up a session for Saturday at 2 PM. In her response to my taking this next step she said "How exciting for you!!"
The "artist" I selected was a women who has a "studio" in the basement of her house that seats about 10 people. She has 15 artists who work out of the studio. They specialize in weddings (do a couple of hundred a year), but also provide makeovers, makeup instruction, and hair styling.
So I arrive and as we are walking down the stairs I find myself awash in a sea of women, all getting prettied up in one way or another. Saturday is the busiest day of the week. There were about 8 female clients and plus the artists, so there are probably close to 18 women there. I'm the only male in the place and I'm in drab mode. I'm led to a makeup station in the center of the room. Two girls start to work on me (the owner and another artist). We talk about some of the difference in male and female faces and the effect I'm going for (no not drag queen, I want to blend). The owner shapes my eyebrows. Then the second artist did my makeup. She did half my face and I did the other half so I could learn how to do it. They kept a running list of makeup items they used and recommend I purchase so I can do my own makeup at home.
As this is happening, everyone else is minding their own business. Female customers are coming and going. No one seems to really care that I'm there. I'm treated like any of the other clients. I'm just one of the girls and that's how they talked to me.
After two hours (it's now 4 PM) and we are done. At this point all of the other customers are gone except one who is getting her hair styled. This leaves me with 4 or 5 of the artists. I'm sitting and absorbing the new me in the mirror. Everyone is relaxed with the day done and we are chatting about what it's like to be a crossdresser. No one is critical or judgemental. They genuinely seemed interested in who we are and the challenges we face. Questions like "how long have you been crossdressing", "when did you start", "are you gay", "how often do you dress up", etc. I'm also offering other insights as to what we do and our issues (i.e. reactions of our SOs, our potentially evolutionary path from being in the closet to mingling with the muggles, the tender young ages most of us start this journey on, etc.). We talk about being feminine and girly. The girl who did my makeup confesses she has a fascination with the whole trans scene which is why they picked her to work on me. So for the next half hour we continue to chat and they are looking over my wig pictures and offering their picks. They called over their hair stylist artist and she makes her three favorite wig picks and explains why.
Half an hour later and it's 4:30. They clean me up and we talk about the next session. I'm going to buy my first wig and then book another session with them. They'll continue teaching me more about makeup and then their hair stylist will work on my wig to tie the whole package together. In the meantime I'm supposed to practice with the makeup so they can critique my work the next time we meet.
It was a surreal experience. My brain is still processing what happened. I'm still kind of pinching myself to make sure it wasn't some kind of dream. A term our British members might use to describe where I'm at is "godsmacked."