Valerie Louise
10-25-2022, 08:59 PM
Hi ladies. My usual disclaimer, this will be long, so just close this and move on if you don't want to read a long story.
A quick background for those that don't know me - I'm 67, lifelong CD, not transitioning at this time, wife knows, and just getting out and about in the world as Val. You can find a couple of other threads I've written about my more recent experiences going out. If you live in the Milwaukee area and want to meet other CD's, please PM me.
I haven't been out in a while, so I made arrangements with a girl I met in Chicago to go out Thursday, 22 October. She set up the restaurant reservations at Kona Grill in Chicago, told me she was inviting another girl, and that we would be going to a bar with a dance floor afterwards. She suggested we wear dresses. I have to say that the dance thing seemed unrealistic for me, and assumed that we wouldn't be doing that.
In writing about my previous outings, I've described how chaotic my preparations to go out become, and this time I was determined that I'd have plenty of time. I was going to start getting ready in plenty of time so that I'd be waiting for the others to show at the restaurant. I had about a two hour ride from my home up near Milwaukee to the southwest of Chicago to factor in.
The night before I selected a sleeveless black LBD, and a floral print cap sleeve dress as two possible options. I am still uncomfortable with my shoulders showing because of size, so I paired the LBD with a gray and sliver threaded bolero, that looked well put together. I think part of the reason it worked was I also had on a new black/gray wig, mostly gray, so the colors all worked well. Still, I liked the floral better.
The next day, in the morning, I ran some errands with my wife. This added some chaos to my getting ready plan which is not necessary to relate here. I got it all done by about noon, so plenty of time to get ready for a 2:45 departure to Chicago, 5:30 reservation.
After a quick shower and careful face shave, I started with makeup. I've recently had my upper lip cleared with electrolysis, and wow, did that make doing my face easier. I could concentrate more on contouring and eye makeup. Still, so much to improve on. From there, I put on some short silicone hip pads I got from an eBay store called Sculptress, held in place with control top hose with the legs cut off. I went with a C cup Maidenform bra, with a set of eBay breast forms which say they are 36B's, but fill my 38C pretty well with my moobs, I guess. Then, a mesh corset, and which I was careful not to suck in too much because I was going to be in it a long time. Wig, and some black block 3" heel sandals. Final product, 42, 33, 42.
With all the foundations in place, I decided to put on the LBD and gray bolero, first, because I was sure the wife would give me the stink eye and say no good. All dolled up, I asked for her critique, and to my astonishment, she said "very cute", which is the best assessment I'll ever get. I'm going with this. Jewelry. Exchange man wedding ring for Walmart fake engagement and solitaire diamond ring, and a couple of other rings on the right hand. Necklace was a thin silver chain and circle pendant. Earrings were some fishhooks with a silver oakleaf. Black Coach purse (second hand, from thredup) stuffed. Ready to go - oops, perfume. OK, done at 2:30, on time!
Because the driveway was recently sealed (part of the chaos), I had to walk in the grass to the car - which was on the road, because the sealer wasn't dry. This meant, yup, the neighbors may see me in daylight. Nothing for it, gotta go. Up I walk about 150 yards, giving thanks I'm not in stilettos! Quickly get in the car, and off I go. I'll be there waiting for the sisters at the restaurant parking lot for sure.
About 15 minutes into the ride, it hits me that I've missed taking an afternoon medication that I've been told I cannot miss by my doc. Arrgh!!! Next exit, turn around, call wife and ask her to leave meds in the mailbox. Can't speed, must not get stopped. Can I do this and still make the time for dinner at 5:30? Google maps says just barely. Rollup to mailbox, get meds, thank wife, off again. Step on it, girl!
Two hours on I94, down to Chicago, and eventually out to Oak Brook. No matter that I exceeded the speed limit by 5 MPH the whole way, Google maps has me ten minutes late. I didn't gain a single minute, mostly because of congestion around O'Hare Airport. Again, I'm going to be late. And my corset is starting to hurt my upper rib.
Text Janet, the CD I'm having dinner with, give her my ETA and she breezily replies, "No problem, we're already seated in a booth, just have the receptionist bring you to us". OK, I'm starting to get used to being in public, but wham, right out of the barrel today I'm going to be interacting as Val. So far, this has been a bit stressful.
Well, whatever, I enter this very populated restaurant, approach the receptionist, give her the name of the reservation, and she doesn't bat an eye - just leads me back to the booth with Janet, and her friend Diane (I'm making up both names for privacy). I saw Janet about two months ago when she just started HRT. She has had hair transplanted from the sides of her head to the top, and it is now a glorious set of blonde curls. Diane is new to me, and quite friendly. She's obviously fulltime. Again, her hair is her own, in gray, a big mop of curls.
Diane starts the conversation, after getting water and settled with the waiter, with what could only be described as an interview. She was really interested in my lifestory, so I went through the whole thing, which, like this post, was rather long. Turns out she and I had a lot of common experiences in engineering so there was a lot of great conversation. I finally got her story, and NO, she's not full time, but she's been on HRT for nearly 30 years! She's 70. I found that I was with two long acquainted girlfriends, who had shared a lot of their trans journeys. Our discussion covered our marriages, and how our wives adjusted to our common obsession. Diane's current marriage spans 20 years, and yes, the wife knew from the start that she was on HRT. Even so, she refuses to see Diane fully dressed as Diane, and I also found out that despite my initial impression, she is not full time.
During their long acquaintance, Janet and Diane realized that they enjoyed decades of coming to grips with being trans, and also the camaraderie of another who shared the condition, while their wives were not only new to it, but also alone. They decided to correct this by having a couples dinner, with Janet and Diane in drab, and their wives. This led to a good outlet for the wives, to at least have someone to talk with who is experiencing the same issues. They suggested this may be good for my wife and I.
I drew a lot from these girls' experience in their trans journey, and while they never pressured me into considering transition, they did help me see that there are no absolutes in this. Janet said that six months ago she never would've thought she'd be presenting with waves of blonde hair and on HRT. And I have to say that six months ago, I never would've thought I'd be out with these ladies at a restaurant, and at the start of the process of facial hair removal, or what was about to happen.
Dinner concluded, the waiter said, "thank you ladies", and it was time to go meet another couple of girls at a sports bar/dance floor/live band place. We all drove and I met them at the entrance to a pretty large place. Upon entry, there was a small cover but no waiting to get in. The place was absolutely packed. There was nowhere to sit despite there being three horse shoe shaped bars, the last one opening onto a pretty large dance floor. We found the other two girls who had commandeered three stools at the bar which we pretty much just stood at. Now, this place had a younger to us clientele, and the women were in jeans, shorts, tops and flat sandals. We are in dresses and heels. But despite the attention our clothing faux pa drew, and the fact that the folks there looked like a typical midwestern bar crowd - there was no reaction at all. An occasional sidelong look, but no one lunging at the CDs. Its body heat hot in there, so off comes the bolero for the evening.
When we walked in, I did notice one, fifties or so, heavy set blonde looking directly at me. Yup, you clocked me, good for you. But then, a few minutes later, at the bar, she's looking eye to eye at me again. A while later, just at me, again - not the other trans. Me. What the heck is wrong? Is my wig falling off or what is it? And then, she comes up to all of us, and tries to get her drink order through us, which meant she is right there. I'm still clueless as to what is happening, but in short order we are singing the Gogo's "We got the Beat" together. We start talking and it's the most natural thing in the world. Two girls talking - she works at a cancer center as a nurse, so her day job isn't fun, and she lives each day as if it's the last. She's not drunk, but on the way. Her SO is right at the next bar, and is a big guy, who comes over at one point and talks with us. After a couple of rounds, and more talk, she insists on dragging me up to the dance floor. All of this is total sensory and emotional overload for me. What is happening?
We dance a couple of songs, and I'm having far too much fun, not really because of her, but because I can feel my earrings banging my head, and the dress, and the heels - this is a bucket list moment. But sure, it was fun dancing with her. I'm realizing, this is what is happening when girls dance together, and the guys just sit. At one point Janet whispers to me, "It happens all the time. The women don't feel threatened by us, and they want to have fun."
Its loud in the bar, and the blonde and I are having to shout to be heard, so she says let's go outside to talk. We went out there and I told her at one point, that retirement is fun, she should consider it soon. This led to me telling her I'm 67, to which she said, "No way! You look fantastic! It can't be." I said I'll show my drivers license to prove it. I have no idea why she would be so kind, because I don't believe it, but I'll take it. And then she asked for a selfie of us to put up on facebook, and I drew the line there.
We went back in, its 10:30 PM, and I've got a long drive home. I said my goodbyes to my new friends, and started though the bar crowd to the exit. Along the way, I luckily passed the restrooms, and knew I had to use the ladies before a two hour drive. In I go, praying there is no line. The restroom only had two stalls, and there were at least eight women in the room. One of the stalls was empty, so I waited long enough to be sure there was no one going in, and got in. While there, I couldn't help but listen. Women talk in these rooms. A lot. I'll leave it at that. I got out as fast as I got in.
My walk to the car was long - I had to park a long way from the entrance. As I walked, I began to feel something I don't feel normally while walking in the dark. Vulnerable. Heels on, and I can't run. I'm clearly a CD. There are people about, some along my walking route that are in shadow. I don't know this place. I am most certainly vulnerable. But, I make it to the car, get in, and make my get away, unscathed. However, another experience that confronts women all the time, that we, in our drab times, don't feel to the same extent.
Two hours home in the car - I'm eleven hours in the corset by the time I roll up home and it is much worse when sitting. I hardly felt it when at the bar but the driving time let me know it was doing its job.
I write this as much to myself as to you, my sisters, to remember a series of events that are outside of what I thought I'd ever experience. I was envious of Sandy Beech before this happened, now even more so.
I've attached two pics, that one of the sisters took of me and the blonde dancing. Poor quality dance floor lighting, so apologies for that.
331975
331974
A quick background for those that don't know me - I'm 67, lifelong CD, not transitioning at this time, wife knows, and just getting out and about in the world as Val. You can find a couple of other threads I've written about my more recent experiences going out. If you live in the Milwaukee area and want to meet other CD's, please PM me.
I haven't been out in a while, so I made arrangements with a girl I met in Chicago to go out Thursday, 22 October. She set up the restaurant reservations at Kona Grill in Chicago, told me she was inviting another girl, and that we would be going to a bar with a dance floor afterwards. She suggested we wear dresses. I have to say that the dance thing seemed unrealistic for me, and assumed that we wouldn't be doing that.
In writing about my previous outings, I've described how chaotic my preparations to go out become, and this time I was determined that I'd have plenty of time. I was going to start getting ready in plenty of time so that I'd be waiting for the others to show at the restaurant. I had about a two hour ride from my home up near Milwaukee to the southwest of Chicago to factor in.
The night before I selected a sleeveless black LBD, and a floral print cap sleeve dress as two possible options. I am still uncomfortable with my shoulders showing because of size, so I paired the LBD with a gray and sliver threaded bolero, that looked well put together. I think part of the reason it worked was I also had on a new black/gray wig, mostly gray, so the colors all worked well. Still, I liked the floral better.
The next day, in the morning, I ran some errands with my wife. This added some chaos to my getting ready plan which is not necessary to relate here. I got it all done by about noon, so plenty of time to get ready for a 2:45 departure to Chicago, 5:30 reservation.
After a quick shower and careful face shave, I started with makeup. I've recently had my upper lip cleared with electrolysis, and wow, did that make doing my face easier. I could concentrate more on contouring and eye makeup. Still, so much to improve on. From there, I put on some short silicone hip pads I got from an eBay store called Sculptress, held in place with control top hose with the legs cut off. I went with a C cup Maidenform bra, with a set of eBay breast forms which say they are 36B's, but fill my 38C pretty well with my moobs, I guess. Then, a mesh corset, and which I was careful not to suck in too much because I was going to be in it a long time. Wig, and some black block 3" heel sandals. Final product, 42, 33, 42.
With all the foundations in place, I decided to put on the LBD and gray bolero, first, because I was sure the wife would give me the stink eye and say no good. All dolled up, I asked for her critique, and to my astonishment, she said "very cute", which is the best assessment I'll ever get. I'm going with this. Jewelry. Exchange man wedding ring for Walmart fake engagement and solitaire diamond ring, and a couple of other rings on the right hand. Necklace was a thin silver chain and circle pendant. Earrings were some fishhooks with a silver oakleaf. Black Coach purse (second hand, from thredup) stuffed. Ready to go - oops, perfume. OK, done at 2:30, on time!
Because the driveway was recently sealed (part of the chaos), I had to walk in the grass to the car - which was on the road, because the sealer wasn't dry. This meant, yup, the neighbors may see me in daylight. Nothing for it, gotta go. Up I walk about 150 yards, giving thanks I'm not in stilettos! Quickly get in the car, and off I go. I'll be there waiting for the sisters at the restaurant parking lot for sure.
About 15 minutes into the ride, it hits me that I've missed taking an afternoon medication that I've been told I cannot miss by my doc. Arrgh!!! Next exit, turn around, call wife and ask her to leave meds in the mailbox. Can't speed, must not get stopped. Can I do this and still make the time for dinner at 5:30? Google maps says just barely. Rollup to mailbox, get meds, thank wife, off again. Step on it, girl!
Two hours on I94, down to Chicago, and eventually out to Oak Brook. No matter that I exceeded the speed limit by 5 MPH the whole way, Google maps has me ten minutes late. I didn't gain a single minute, mostly because of congestion around O'Hare Airport. Again, I'm going to be late. And my corset is starting to hurt my upper rib.
Text Janet, the CD I'm having dinner with, give her my ETA and she breezily replies, "No problem, we're already seated in a booth, just have the receptionist bring you to us". OK, I'm starting to get used to being in public, but wham, right out of the barrel today I'm going to be interacting as Val. So far, this has been a bit stressful.
Well, whatever, I enter this very populated restaurant, approach the receptionist, give her the name of the reservation, and she doesn't bat an eye - just leads me back to the booth with Janet, and her friend Diane (I'm making up both names for privacy). I saw Janet about two months ago when she just started HRT. She has had hair transplanted from the sides of her head to the top, and it is now a glorious set of blonde curls. Diane is new to me, and quite friendly. She's obviously fulltime. Again, her hair is her own, in gray, a big mop of curls.
Diane starts the conversation, after getting water and settled with the waiter, with what could only be described as an interview. She was really interested in my lifestory, so I went through the whole thing, which, like this post, was rather long. Turns out she and I had a lot of common experiences in engineering so there was a lot of great conversation. I finally got her story, and NO, she's not full time, but she's been on HRT for nearly 30 years! She's 70. I found that I was with two long acquainted girlfriends, who had shared a lot of their trans journeys. Our discussion covered our marriages, and how our wives adjusted to our common obsession. Diane's current marriage spans 20 years, and yes, the wife knew from the start that she was on HRT. Even so, she refuses to see Diane fully dressed as Diane, and I also found out that despite my initial impression, she is not full time.
During their long acquaintance, Janet and Diane realized that they enjoyed decades of coming to grips with being trans, and also the camaraderie of another who shared the condition, while their wives were not only new to it, but also alone. They decided to correct this by having a couples dinner, with Janet and Diane in drab, and their wives. This led to a good outlet for the wives, to at least have someone to talk with who is experiencing the same issues. They suggested this may be good for my wife and I.
I drew a lot from these girls' experience in their trans journey, and while they never pressured me into considering transition, they did help me see that there are no absolutes in this. Janet said that six months ago she never would've thought she'd be presenting with waves of blonde hair and on HRT. And I have to say that six months ago, I never would've thought I'd be out with these ladies at a restaurant, and at the start of the process of facial hair removal, or what was about to happen.
Dinner concluded, the waiter said, "thank you ladies", and it was time to go meet another couple of girls at a sports bar/dance floor/live band place. We all drove and I met them at the entrance to a pretty large place. Upon entry, there was a small cover but no waiting to get in. The place was absolutely packed. There was nowhere to sit despite there being three horse shoe shaped bars, the last one opening onto a pretty large dance floor. We found the other two girls who had commandeered three stools at the bar which we pretty much just stood at. Now, this place had a younger to us clientele, and the women were in jeans, shorts, tops and flat sandals. We are in dresses and heels. But despite the attention our clothing faux pa drew, and the fact that the folks there looked like a typical midwestern bar crowd - there was no reaction at all. An occasional sidelong look, but no one lunging at the CDs. Its body heat hot in there, so off comes the bolero for the evening.
When we walked in, I did notice one, fifties or so, heavy set blonde looking directly at me. Yup, you clocked me, good for you. But then, a few minutes later, at the bar, she's looking eye to eye at me again. A while later, just at me, again - not the other trans. Me. What the heck is wrong? Is my wig falling off or what is it? And then, she comes up to all of us, and tries to get her drink order through us, which meant she is right there. I'm still clueless as to what is happening, but in short order we are singing the Gogo's "We got the Beat" together. We start talking and it's the most natural thing in the world. Two girls talking - she works at a cancer center as a nurse, so her day job isn't fun, and she lives each day as if it's the last. She's not drunk, but on the way. Her SO is right at the next bar, and is a big guy, who comes over at one point and talks with us. After a couple of rounds, and more talk, she insists on dragging me up to the dance floor. All of this is total sensory and emotional overload for me. What is happening?
We dance a couple of songs, and I'm having far too much fun, not really because of her, but because I can feel my earrings banging my head, and the dress, and the heels - this is a bucket list moment. But sure, it was fun dancing with her. I'm realizing, this is what is happening when girls dance together, and the guys just sit. At one point Janet whispers to me, "It happens all the time. The women don't feel threatened by us, and they want to have fun."
Its loud in the bar, and the blonde and I are having to shout to be heard, so she says let's go outside to talk. We went out there and I told her at one point, that retirement is fun, she should consider it soon. This led to me telling her I'm 67, to which she said, "No way! You look fantastic! It can't be." I said I'll show my drivers license to prove it. I have no idea why she would be so kind, because I don't believe it, but I'll take it. And then she asked for a selfie of us to put up on facebook, and I drew the line there.
We went back in, its 10:30 PM, and I've got a long drive home. I said my goodbyes to my new friends, and started though the bar crowd to the exit. Along the way, I luckily passed the restrooms, and knew I had to use the ladies before a two hour drive. In I go, praying there is no line. The restroom only had two stalls, and there were at least eight women in the room. One of the stalls was empty, so I waited long enough to be sure there was no one going in, and got in. While there, I couldn't help but listen. Women talk in these rooms. A lot. I'll leave it at that. I got out as fast as I got in.
My walk to the car was long - I had to park a long way from the entrance. As I walked, I began to feel something I don't feel normally while walking in the dark. Vulnerable. Heels on, and I can't run. I'm clearly a CD. There are people about, some along my walking route that are in shadow. I don't know this place. I am most certainly vulnerable. But, I make it to the car, get in, and make my get away, unscathed. However, another experience that confronts women all the time, that we, in our drab times, don't feel to the same extent.
Two hours home in the car - I'm eleven hours in the corset by the time I roll up home and it is much worse when sitting. I hardly felt it when at the bar but the driving time let me know it was doing its job.
I write this as much to myself as to you, my sisters, to remember a series of events that are outside of what I thought I'd ever experience. I was envious of Sandy Beech before this happened, now even more so.
I've attached two pics, that one of the sisters took of me and the blonde dancing. Poor quality dance floor lighting, so apologies for that.
331975
331974