Kimberly
03-25-2007, 11:30 AM
To actually make, somewhat, of a decent response to some of those girls here who ask about the risks of going out – whether they should, whether they shouldn’t, and who also air their nervousness – I decided to try and make a complete account of my recent experience of stepping out as Kim for one whole weekend.
I’m pretty early in the stages of the whole “going out” thing, but had a pretty successful weekend – had lots of fun with a group of friends and even went out into the early hours of Saturday night/Sunday morning.
One thing I have conceived, and it’s something which clears up a myth that had lingered around the TG community, but that’s thankfully been almost cleared up on this forum is the issue of being “read” and “passing”. I agree now, that after one weekend of being en-femme, that passing, when you think you are successfully, is a fantastic feeling and made me for a moment believe that I was exactly who I wanted to be. The thing is – in a crowd, of say 60, about 10 will probably read you, and a following 10 might have an inkling into your crossdressing. And so, in truth, I believe you are being read constantly. Thankfully, none of them will approach you, except in a friendly manner if they recognise you, know you, or want something from you. And you know the best thing you can do? Just get on with you want to do; concentrate on how you feel and your presentation – because who are you going out for? Yourself! And to me, going out actually makes me feel bullet proof – my personality makes significant changes when en-femme, in the field of confidence (believe it or not – I’m probably a nervous wreck underneath.) So concentrate on being the woman you want to be, and not the person that everyone else wants you to be.
Therefore, what follows are 4(ish) cases of either "passing" or being "read", and the debate that arises with both. Pick and choose what you want to read if you're not in the reading mood.
Case 1 – Camden Market - (Passing?)
These are actually two small events described in one, because they both took place in the same area, Camden (London). A recommend it to any crossdresser who wants a nice, but crowded, Saturday – or even weekday. The market is superb and has innumerable women’s clothes and shoes stalls and shops. Not to mention the vintage clothes shops! It was in one of these shops that my experience took place, but is quite a private success: it was the first time I’d ever tried any item of female clothing on in a shop.
Firstly, going shopping en femme was such a better experience than shopping as male, because of the immense feeling of validation it bought. I finally felt like that shop was territory I was allowed into – that I wasn’t a man in a woman’s clothes shop. My secret was no longer that I was shopping for myself to crossdress: I was just shopping for myself! I tried on a patterned long top, to which my friends told me it looked great – so I bought it. The woman who owned the shop even said, “Cute isn’t it?” which just validated my shopping experience even more! I recommend shopping en femme to anyone; it is so much more fulfilling than shopping as male.
The second moment is contained in a very short amount of time. A woman at a Chinese counter in the food court called me “young lady”. Now, this could be taken different ways depending on whether she read me or not, but still the phrase itself took me a little by surprise, as does most of the pronouns or slang phrases toward my female self, and they seem so much more flattering. Just by saying this, I was again treated how I wanted to be treated, and my femininity was validated, yet again. What I’m trying to do, I suppose, is give words to the unspeakable that many of us who are out and about feel at some point.
Case 2 – The Club - (Not passing, and loving it)
What I’m talking about then began to happen often when we got to the club, I requested my friends actually take account of my female name, as that is how I was presenting that weekend… so numerous “Kim”s were uttered after my request. This gave such dialectic feelings: both of validation, but of confusion. Being called another name, but then recognising my connection to it is a weird feeling, and as of Saturday night it was beginning to become more familiar, (but I still don’t quite believe I get my teeth round it with perfect ease and identification.) Whilst at the club though, being an alternative crowd, I found I wasn’t the only tranny there! How fantastic… and what’s more we seemed to be the magnets for them – my friends being Theatre Designers all dress fantastically, and look fabulous anyway and so there was plenty of attention from the others crossdressers in the club. I spoke to many of them, and even got told that I “look fierce”. A good thing, I think. This experience though, was much more about recognising crossdressers and flattering both parties than actually feeling accepted. Saying that, seeing other trannies there made the whole atmosphere feel a whole lot better. And I don’t know what came over me, but I danced like a crazed-woman. It appears I’m not only more confident, but more open to a good time on the dance floor while en femme. Amazing – either I’m creating this side of me, or it’s a discovery. I’d love to know…
Case 3 – McDonalds, 3am (being read)
This is one of only two bad experiences of the weekend, and actually, you’ll see I was asking for it when I explain the situation. All I need to say is, McDonalds at 3am, on Trafalgar Square. One of my friends and I were standing aside from the queue, whilst a group of 3 chav lads were watching me. I caught their expressions, but quickly ignored them. If looks could talk, they’d be in my face insulting me, asking me what the f*ck I was doing dressed like that. They didn’t approach me, and that was the end of that. But it made me very scared and shaken up, and within about ten minutes of being there, I needed to leave.
Case 4 – The Night bus (very possible pass)
Contrast that, though, with the friendly nature of a man we spoke to on the bus ride home. We all introduced ourselves, myself as “Kim”, to which he shook my hand (just like the others.) We then had a discussion on something about upbringings and people who were the lowest class and whether they would ever do anything to bring themselves up from that situation – you know, one of those conversations you have at 4 in the morning on a night bus. We were quite loud, and by this time I wasn’t so concerned about talking because I thought whatever masculinity I’d removed from my voice I had eradicated for at least another hour or two.
The debate is, though, whether he read me or not – and I’m honestly not that sure. At the beginning of the bus ride, I was sure he had done. He did that typical look that is slightly longer than necessary. But after that he was incredibly civil to me, shaking my hand and the like – even sitting next to me. So, either he was a very upstanding person or I passed. I don’t think the latter is true, but then again it might be, and I could just be quite unconvinced by how good I may look, (damn my chin…) I quizzed a friend about it a little later on, and she thinks I did pass. Anyway, I think the lesson here to be learnt is – don’t be afraid to be who you are, because the decent people in this world will accept you for who you present yourself as. And let’s face it, I’m not going to see him again, am I? So – deception… sorry, passing, isn’t a bad thing sometimes, is it?
To Conclude...
There are decent people everywhere; the people we speak of in our posts: the store clerks who call us “ma’am,” or the SO that accepts us, or the friends we make on here or at local meetings. Then again, it only takes one bigot to bring the whole day down. My advice? You can’t prepare 100% for the random bigots, but 9 times out of 10, they won’t do anything but look at you. Looks can kill? No. They can’t… so enjoy yourself. It’s you you’re serving, not the expectations of some bigot who thinks you’re a freak. Be confident in who you are, and others will respond in kind.
K xx
I’m pretty early in the stages of the whole “going out” thing, but had a pretty successful weekend – had lots of fun with a group of friends and even went out into the early hours of Saturday night/Sunday morning.
One thing I have conceived, and it’s something which clears up a myth that had lingered around the TG community, but that’s thankfully been almost cleared up on this forum is the issue of being “read” and “passing”. I agree now, that after one weekend of being en-femme, that passing, when you think you are successfully, is a fantastic feeling and made me for a moment believe that I was exactly who I wanted to be. The thing is – in a crowd, of say 60, about 10 will probably read you, and a following 10 might have an inkling into your crossdressing. And so, in truth, I believe you are being read constantly. Thankfully, none of them will approach you, except in a friendly manner if they recognise you, know you, or want something from you. And you know the best thing you can do? Just get on with you want to do; concentrate on how you feel and your presentation – because who are you going out for? Yourself! And to me, going out actually makes me feel bullet proof – my personality makes significant changes when en-femme, in the field of confidence (believe it or not – I’m probably a nervous wreck underneath.) So concentrate on being the woman you want to be, and not the person that everyone else wants you to be.
Therefore, what follows are 4(ish) cases of either "passing" or being "read", and the debate that arises with both. Pick and choose what you want to read if you're not in the reading mood.
Case 1 – Camden Market - (Passing?)
These are actually two small events described in one, because they both took place in the same area, Camden (London). A recommend it to any crossdresser who wants a nice, but crowded, Saturday – or even weekday. The market is superb and has innumerable women’s clothes and shoes stalls and shops. Not to mention the vintage clothes shops! It was in one of these shops that my experience took place, but is quite a private success: it was the first time I’d ever tried any item of female clothing on in a shop.
Firstly, going shopping en femme was such a better experience than shopping as male, because of the immense feeling of validation it bought. I finally felt like that shop was territory I was allowed into – that I wasn’t a man in a woman’s clothes shop. My secret was no longer that I was shopping for myself to crossdress: I was just shopping for myself! I tried on a patterned long top, to which my friends told me it looked great – so I bought it. The woman who owned the shop even said, “Cute isn’t it?” which just validated my shopping experience even more! I recommend shopping en femme to anyone; it is so much more fulfilling than shopping as male.
The second moment is contained in a very short amount of time. A woman at a Chinese counter in the food court called me “young lady”. Now, this could be taken different ways depending on whether she read me or not, but still the phrase itself took me a little by surprise, as does most of the pronouns or slang phrases toward my female self, and they seem so much more flattering. Just by saying this, I was again treated how I wanted to be treated, and my femininity was validated, yet again. What I’m trying to do, I suppose, is give words to the unspeakable that many of us who are out and about feel at some point.
Case 2 – The Club - (Not passing, and loving it)
What I’m talking about then began to happen often when we got to the club, I requested my friends actually take account of my female name, as that is how I was presenting that weekend… so numerous “Kim”s were uttered after my request. This gave such dialectic feelings: both of validation, but of confusion. Being called another name, but then recognising my connection to it is a weird feeling, and as of Saturday night it was beginning to become more familiar, (but I still don’t quite believe I get my teeth round it with perfect ease and identification.) Whilst at the club though, being an alternative crowd, I found I wasn’t the only tranny there! How fantastic… and what’s more we seemed to be the magnets for them – my friends being Theatre Designers all dress fantastically, and look fabulous anyway and so there was plenty of attention from the others crossdressers in the club. I spoke to many of them, and even got told that I “look fierce”. A good thing, I think. This experience though, was much more about recognising crossdressers and flattering both parties than actually feeling accepted. Saying that, seeing other trannies there made the whole atmosphere feel a whole lot better. And I don’t know what came over me, but I danced like a crazed-woman. It appears I’m not only more confident, but more open to a good time on the dance floor while en femme. Amazing – either I’m creating this side of me, or it’s a discovery. I’d love to know…
Case 3 – McDonalds, 3am (being read)
This is one of only two bad experiences of the weekend, and actually, you’ll see I was asking for it when I explain the situation. All I need to say is, McDonalds at 3am, on Trafalgar Square. One of my friends and I were standing aside from the queue, whilst a group of 3 chav lads were watching me. I caught their expressions, but quickly ignored them. If looks could talk, they’d be in my face insulting me, asking me what the f*ck I was doing dressed like that. They didn’t approach me, and that was the end of that. But it made me very scared and shaken up, and within about ten minutes of being there, I needed to leave.
Case 4 – The Night bus (very possible pass)
Contrast that, though, with the friendly nature of a man we spoke to on the bus ride home. We all introduced ourselves, myself as “Kim”, to which he shook my hand (just like the others.) We then had a discussion on something about upbringings and people who were the lowest class and whether they would ever do anything to bring themselves up from that situation – you know, one of those conversations you have at 4 in the morning on a night bus. We were quite loud, and by this time I wasn’t so concerned about talking because I thought whatever masculinity I’d removed from my voice I had eradicated for at least another hour or two.
The debate is, though, whether he read me or not – and I’m honestly not that sure. At the beginning of the bus ride, I was sure he had done. He did that typical look that is slightly longer than necessary. But after that he was incredibly civil to me, shaking my hand and the like – even sitting next to me. So, either he was a very upstanding person or I passed. I don’t think the latter is true, but then again it might be, and I could just be quite unconvinced by how good I may look, (damn my chin…) I quizzed a friend about it a little later on, and she thinks I did pass. Anyway, I think the lesson here to be learnt is – don’t be afraid to be who you are, because the decent people in this world will accept you for who you present yourself as. And let’s face it, I’m not going to see him again, am I? So – deception… sorry, passing, isn’t a bad thing sometimes, is it?
To Conclude...
There are decent people everywhere; the people we speak of in our posts: the store clerks who call us “ma’am,” or the SO that accepts us, or the friends we make on here or at local meetings. Then again, it only takes one bigot to bring the whole day down. My advice? You can’t prepare 100% for the random bigots, but 9 times out of 10, they won’t do anything but look at you. Looks can kill? No. They can’t… so enjoy yourself. It’s you you’re serving, not the expectations of some bigot who thinks you’re a freak. Be confident in who you are, and others will respond in kind.
K xx