MiniRock
03-27-2022, 08:35 PM
I had another chance to go out, again getting up before dawn to be in the centre of town by 6:00 on another beautiful morning. This was the first ever Saturday, so a little trepidation was present. But by 9:30, I was back in the apartment after the usual tour of Vienna and calling in for a hug at my hairdressers' (these two lovely old dears are the only people in town who will accept this unvaccinated, untested and unrecovered walking Corona refusenik and they have the fines to prove it).
Anyway, that's not the main story. After lunch, some prannying around for a bit in undies with my partner (hereinafter referred to as B), and trying on different clothes, I got to the lovely new black dress and blazer we bought in Copenhagen. After all the effort getting made up and feeling so lovely (you can decide), it seemed such a shame not to go out again. But had I the courage to do it on a busy Saturday afternoon? After some prevarication, B put on her shoes and told me to follow her. She led me to Mariahilferstra?e, the main shopping drag in Vienna, periodically laughing at my discomfort and telling me that basically everybody was looking at me, with all sorts of reactions on show. Nevertheless, I steeled myself and entered the busiest part of the pedestrianised and packed shopping street. Wow, this is the real thing. We squeezed past pavement restaurants, full of diners, having to zig-zag because of the crowds. I realized my big toe was starting to peak through my tights, which added to my discomfort. And I was told again that I was drawing plenty of attention. But it felt amazing, all the same. At one point she and I both noticed the same little old lady who reflexively looked me up and down in surprise. B burst out laughing. Thanks! Shortly thereafter, we found a bench and sat down to give me a break. Phew
Onwards once again, this time entering Zara, after donning the obligatory anonymizer. Ooooh, this is nice. Although busy, it was so tranquil compared with outside and somehow very welcoming. Other shoppers, many of whom, I met eyes with, didn't seem at all perturbed. And eventually we came out with a dress, a skirt and a top for B (there's method in her madness). I got a good look at myself in the mirror too and wasn't too dissatisfied.
I was beginning not to care about people looking at me, even when B told me that a young woman had nudged her partner to get him to see me. After all, isn't that really the point. I was classily dressed, age appropriate, reasonably well made up, with a wig that I think suits me. So what the heck.
Homewards, stopping for a couple of photo ops, I was basically comfortable and enjoying being out in the sunshine. Although, I got a laugh from a group of lads when I managed to stumble in my heels right in front of them. And shortly afterwards, B told me a woman we had just passed had ducked into her car with a giggle. Although, I wasn't aware of it. What a great day. Apart from my blistered feet.
I guess the moral it the tale is that, if you want to go out en femme, you've got to be prepared to take a bit of flak. Leastwise, I do. Because, I'm never going to be able to look much better than I did there.
Incidentally, the scraze on my knee is where I fell off my bike after the front wheel dropped into the rail of the Strassenbahn.
327618
327619
327620
327624
327623
Anyway, that's not the main story. After lunch, some prannying around for a bit in undies with my partner (hereinafter referred to as B), and trying on different clothes, I got to the lovely new black dress and blazer we bought in Copenhagen. After all the effort getting made up and feeling so lovely (you can decide), it seemed such a shame not to go out again. But had I the courage to do it on a busy Saturday afternoon? After some prevarication, B put on her shoes and told me to follow her. She led me to Mariahilferstra?e, the main shopping drag in Vienna, periodically laughing at my discomfort and telling me that basically everybody was looking at me, with all sorts of reactions on show. Nevertheless, I steeled myself and entered the busiest part of the pedestrianised and packed shopping street. Wow, this is the real thing. We squeezed past pavement restaurants, full of diners, having to zig-zag because of the crowds. I realized my big toe was starting to peak through my tights, which added to my discomfort. And I was told again that I was drawing plenty of attention. But it felt amazing, all the same. At one point she and I both noticed the same little old lady who reflexively looked me up and down in surprise. B burst out laughing. Thanks! Shortly thereafter, we found a bench and sat down to give me a break. Phew
Onwards once again, this time entering Zara, after donning the obligatory anonymizer. Ooooh, this is nice. Although busy, it was so tranquil compared with outside and somehow very welcoming. Other shoppers, many of whom, I met eyes with, didn't seem at all perturbed. And eventually we came out with a dress, a skirt and a top for B (there's method in her madness). I got a good look at myself in the mirror too and wasn't too dissatisfied.
I was beginning not to care about people looking at me, even when B told me that a young woman had nudged her partner to get him to see me. After all, isn't that really the point. I was classily dressed, age appropriate, reasonably well made up, with a wig that I think suits me. So what the heck.
Homewards, stopping for a couple of photo ops, I was basically comfortable and enjoying being out in the sunshine. Although, I got a laugh from a group of lads when I managed to stumble in my heels right in front of them. And shortly afterwards, B told me a woman we had just passed had ducked into her car with a giggle. Although, I wasn't aware of it. What a great day. Apart from my blistered feet.
I guess the moral it the tale is that, if you want to go out en femme, you've got to be prepared to take a bit of flak. Leastwise, I do. Because, I'm never going to be able to look much better than I did there.
Incidentally, the scraze on my knee is where I fell off my bike after the front wheel dropped into the rail of the Strassenbahn.
327618
327619
327620
327624
327623