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Thread: Mel's Half Life

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    Post Mel's Half Life

    The latest story in this thread (Episode 4 - More hotel adventures) was added 26th July 2011. This thread now contains 4 accounts of my ventures out and about en femme in the UK.

    In a nutshell I'm a UK-based straight CDer and have been for about 30 years, since I was 6 or 7. I'm mostly in the closet - fully in it around my home area, although my wife knows and is accepting to a small degree. Well, anyway, suffice it to say that since I got my driving license many years ago, my CDing life has been mostly spent in the car. Now and again I'd pluck up the courage to go into an empty (but open!) petrol station very late at night, but that was it. I have a great job for CDing, as I travel away from home frequently and it gives me a chance to wear my favourite girly things in the evenings. I know that many CDers are happy to stay indoors, but I would ultimately like to experience a day in the life of a GG - getting up, dressing, doing normal stuff all day and going to bed. Nothing outrageous - just living - but doing it in nice clothes, and, like a GG, being able to go outside when I like. For a long time, but especially since the beginning of this year, I've been getting more and more bold with my outside adventures, and I'd like in this thread to share my experience and observations, principally because you have all very positively contributed to my CDing life and I'd like to give something useful back. Not being much of a philosopher or counsellor, this is all I have to give As usual, feel free to post replies, but I think rather than starting a new thread for each outing, I'll post each new one to this thread.

    Anyway, into the first story - more will follow, I promise. For the past few nights I've been staying in a big Holiday Inn, just outside one of the UK's larger cities, Birmingham. In the UK, Holiday Inn's current marketing slogan is "Be Yourself", so I decided to put it to the test. Yesterday I needed to work quite a long way from the hotel, so I decided to make the most of it. I had breakfast en drab but under-dressed as usual, then carried some clothes out to the car - a black pencil skirt, a lovely blue blouse which I'd bought the night before, my black patent Mary Jane heels, and a bra, cami-top and black opague tights, my plan being to wear them back to the hotel after work. I drove the two and a half hours to work en drab, but wearing the heels (I *love* wearing heels!). I always under-dress for work, so I was wearing the heels with opaque black pop socks. Much later in the day when I'd finished work, I bought some food at a supermarket and then found something quite rare - a very secluded spot in the car park where I could change my clothes in relative comfort. I fear that nothing makes one look like a pervert so much as changing clothes in a car, but some things can't be avoided. If you do have a workable suggestion for avoiding this, please let me know! So for the journey back to the hotel I wore a lovely smart business outfit, and it made me feel great. I stopped at a large motorway service station for a coffee, and had the usual argument with myself in the car park for 10 minutes before chickening out and driving off coffee-less. I was, however, determined to go back to my room en-femme.

    I should say at this point that I don't wear make-up or a wig, not because I don't want to try it, but because I haven't really felt a strong need to yet. Having succumbed to the addictive effects of wearing fem clothes, I don't want to become addicted to something else too. And I guess the main reason is that my wife loves my facial hair, and facial hair doesn't go with either make-up or a wig. Wherever I go, I am plainly a man in women's clothes (and I'm 6'5"), but I really don't want to look like the comedy stereotypical CDer and I certainly don't want people to feel sickened when they see me, so I try to look good. Recently, my wife has told me she's OK with me keeping my stuff in my wardrobe, so I'm slowly buying better clothes and throwing away the old cheap ones I'd bought just because I didn't want to have to stuff good ones into little hidey-holes around the house. As a man, I'm not too bad looking, and I think that when I'm wearing a nice feminine outfit that actually fits properly I look OK. No-one will think I'm a lady but at least they won't be physically sick. Luckily I'm slim too, so I can get away with some quite nice smart tailored business blouses and skirts. What I do lament though is the very small choice of shoes in size 11. Most of them seem to be purpose-designed to be ugly. There are so many absolutely gorgeous shoes available in the regular sizes - do the manufacturers think that women with larger feet prefer horrible shoes?

    Anyway, back to the story. I arrived at the hotel car park about 10:30 at night, and had to park about 150 metres away from the hotel as the car park was pretty full. I got out, straightened my skirt, made sure my camisole top was tucked into it and my blouse untucked, smoothed and looking nice (are the bottoms of cami tops supposed to be tucked into skirts?). After a quick check of my reflection in the car, I picked up my bags and walked to the hotel. It felt gorgeous just to walk across the open space and feel the cool breeze around my legs and under my skirt. Although usually nervous in public when dressed, I felt really confident and I think it was because I knew I was dressed well, and I also figured that people were unlikely to start a fight if they were guests in the hotel. There was a man on his mobile phone as I approached the entrance. He was concentrating and half looked up when I passed. He stopped talking but didn't stare and I couldn't tell whether he'd stopped talking because of me. Through the huge automatic sliding doors was the reception with its big shiny tiled floor, making my heels sound delicious. There were two female receptionists, one of whom had checked me in a couple of nights before, and about eight men between the ages of around 25-40. All of them looked - they could hear my heels, but most looked away again in disinterest. Not one made any rude comment or gave even a disparaging look. Past reception in front of me was a large open bar seating area - there must have been about twenty guys in there sitting in comfy chairs, many facing my direction with an unobstructed view. The ones facing me continued to look, but didn't reach over and poke their friends to look too - as I'd half-feared they would. They didn't laugh either- they behaved as though there was nothing unusual about me at all. I was walking tall and proud, feeling great. It was a big hotel, and quite a long walk back to my room - a good 3 or 4 minutes - and in that time I must have passed close to over a dozen people, but there were no nasty comments or remarks, and a couple of guys gave little smiles which seemed understanding to me. Maybe I just read them that way because of the pink fog and they might have been smiles of pity or embarrassment, but I do really think they were understanding. Hopefully it made them think about trying it too.

    I got back to my room feeling elated - it had been an excellent experience and I wanted to repeat it, so I decided I'd go dressed to breakfast. The breakfast tables in this particular hotel are small and square with a centre leg which sprawls everywhere at the bottom, and it's awkward enough normally to know where to put my legs, let alone with a skirt. I decided to go with trousers and a snug-fitting long-sleeved black top with a longer, red, sleeveless boat-necked number over the top. The outline of my bra was quite visible. To complete the look, I wore matte black 2-strap 2" heeled shoes and nude-coloured pop socks (knee-highs). All in all it wasn't a bad look, although I didn't feel as good about it as I had about last night's outfit. It took a bit of courage to get out of my room, but once I'd reached the end of the corridor I knew there was no turning back.

    I'd woken and showered epecially early so there wouldn't be too many people at breakfast, so I got downstairs just before 7 o'clock. The breakfast greeter was a guy aound 40ish who seemed a bit nervous. He looked me up and down and giggled nervously, but at the same time he was absolutely respectful. I think he was trying to work out whether I had dressed like that for a joke and was seeing if I'd laugh along, but I was too nervous for that. He showed me to a table in the middle of the room, giggling nervously occasionally as he walked. There were about ten businessmen scattered around the room, two on the table next to mine. A couple of them looked because the sound of my heels was quite loud, but then looked away again. No-one stared and the staff were very polite. Once I'd sat down, I realised that I was shaking like a leaf; so much so that I was in danger of spilling my cereal milk when I put the spoon to my mouth, and it took a few attempts to enter the PIN to unlock my phone. I can't remember the last time I shook so much. I sat and read emails on my phone, and as I began to feel a bit more normal the shakes subsided a little, but they didn't stop completely. I think it was a subconscious terror of what might happen. Logically I knew I'd come to no harm there, but some bit of my brain was off in a panic. That's 30+ years of social conditioning for you.

    After breakfast I went to reception to check out. The guy on reception was a friendly chap and started making bright conversation before I'd arrived at the desk. The checking out was slow as there was a problem with the computer, so we had a bit of banal banter while we waited, and I asked him candidly whether they had many men who wore women's clothes. People often say of hoteliers "they see this sort of thing all the time", so I thought I'd find out. He said no, they don't see it. Bearing in mind the previous comment and the size of the hotel, that disappointed me a bit, but I can't say I was really surprised. When I first mentioned women's clothes to him, he nodded at my top and said "What - are those..." and then stopped and grinned as the penny dropped. "I saw you coming over there and thought what are those shoes..." but didn't really think much about it," he said. He carried on as friendly as before though, even when he knew I was CDing. After talking to him for a short while the shakes had gone.

    After I'd finally checked out, I went back to my room to pack my things. On the way back down with my case, I passed a man coming up the stairs who hardly seemed to notice me, but by the time I arrived in reception, it was full of smartly-dressed men and women all around my age. There were some slightly amused looks, but no shocked ones or rude comments. No-one was outside when I exited, so I got to the car without further ado. I'd finally achieved two goals - eating and drinking in public while dressed, and putting fem clothes on after the shower and keeping them on until I got almost to work. Usually I go in drab to breakfast and in all public areas of hotels, so dressing and then going about business as usual was great - very GG-like.

    These experiences, plus all my previous ones, make me think that as long as you look smart or are at least fairly tidy, wearing clothes that fit, people don't really care what you wear. I found that looking confident helps hugely, standing up and looking people in the eye to show them I'm not ashamed of myself. Last night I actually felt *proud* as I walked through that lobby - a definite first for en-femme me. I wasn't so proud of myself this morning, but I still acted like I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed, and everyone treated me with respect and without kid-gloves. I know that many times in the past I've gone into places with my head bowed, trying not to make too much eye contact. The problem with that is that you look ashamed and guilty, and people tune into that and think you have something to hide, which we really haven't. Plus, if you're staring at the floor and not looking at who and what is around you, you have no idea what people's reaction is and you're probably imagining that it's far worse than it really is.

    Anyway, I had a ball - though a very nervous one this morning. I just hope they didn't notice the shaking, and that with time and more outings like this one, the irrational fear will subside and be replaced with pride.
    Last edited by Melanie Sykes; 07-25-2011 at 06:40 PM. Reason: Updated the number of stories in the thread to the head of the OP.

  2. #2
    Gold Member Cynthia Anne's Avatar
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    WOW! A VERY INTERESTING AND LONG STORY INDEED! With your bravely and courage the shahs should be gone for good the next time you go out! Thanks for sharing!
    If you don't like the way I'm livin', you just leave this long haired country girl alone:

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    Time Lady JiveTurkeyOnRye's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Melanie Sykes View Post
    . I know that many times in the past I've gone into places with my head bowed, trying not to make too much eye contact. The problem with that is that you look ashamed and guilty, and people tune into that and think you have something to hide, which we really haven't.
    Bingo. I can remember a time when I first started going in public in women's clothes, I went to a mall one afternoon. I started across the street at a Target, and I remember being really nervous, and as a result I felt like the whole time I was in that store everyone'e eyes were on me and that I was breaking social contracts and all that jazz and I got so uncomfortable that I left. Then I sat in my car and sort of calmed down and I looked at myself again and went "What's the problem here? You look great, so if they have a problem, it's theirs, not yours."

    I drove across the street and into a DSW store, and I went over to the boots and made it a point to engage an SA for her opinion on a decision between two pairs of boots. Because I was so comfortable and confident, she didn't seem to even flinch at the fact that I was a guy in a skirt, and just helped me. Feeling even more confident after that, I then went to the mall itself and went into multiple stores that had things that I wanted, and actually tried stuff on and asked questions of the sales people, and they treated me just fine. Was I aware of people noticing me? Sure, but I was also aware that most of them did just that, noticed me, and then moved on with their lives.

    People will almost always take their cues from you, if you behave like you look great and carry yourself like, "Yes, I SHOULD be dressed this way," It will take you far.
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    Senior Age Member sissystephanie's Avatar
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    Melanie, I have been a CD for 70 years, starting out when I was 6. In that time I have been out in public many times looking totally feminine, with a wig and makeup. But that was when I had a dear wife who was a wonder with both my wig and my makeup. I am only 5' 10" so more easily pass than you could! She could make me totally passable! But 6 years ago, after almost 50 years of happy marriage, cancer took her! I am very bad with both the wig and makeup, so I just go out dressed enfemme but looking like the man that I am. In that 6 years I have not had one single negative comment!! But I have had lots of compliments on my outfits, from both men and women!! I wear skirts and tops most of the time, with the usual lingerie underneath!! Sometimes I do wear dresses, but prefer skirts! Oh yes, I do go everywhere dressed like that. If you look decent, most people will not pay much attention to you. Of course, if you look like a real Drag Queen they will pay attention. You don't do that, so people don't pay you much attention!

    Be proud of yourself!! You are one of US!!
    Stephanie

    Lady on the outside, but man underneath!

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    I love getting out stories. Yours is definately great Melanie as it demonstrates that you can be yourself and just get on out there and enjoy yourself doing it no matter what the percieved barriers may be (no wig or make-up, facial hair, height). It is all about being ourselves and having a good time. Good for you for expressing yourself. And I agree with you and Ryan that we give off the clues. If you act like you belong, then you belong.

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    Smile Episode 2 - Premier Inn

    Thank you all very much for your replies. Although I haven't made many posts, I do read these forums a lot, and do truly feel like one of "us": thank you Sissystephanie! Since the OP in this thread (http://www.crossdressers.com/forums/...Life&p=2532798), I've been pretty busy travelling around and about, and getting time to sit down and write isn't always easy. Even without Internet access though, I do sit and write my experiences in a text file so that I don't forget before I get a chance to post. So without further ado, I'll get on with it.

    Following the previous story, I unexpectedly found myself needing to stay an extra day at the client site, and therefore had to find another hotel. I found a random Premier Inn hotel just outside Birmingham. I checked in at a reasonable time, but a work colleague rang and we talked for a couple of hours. By the time I'd had dinner and got back to my room it was nearly 10:30 PM.

    I did some ironing and put on some ultra-soft black opaque tights, skirt, black bra, a white cami-top, a nice blouse and black patent Mary Janes, before spending an inordinate amount of time working up the will power to leave the room. My other shoes were in the car, along with the black and red tops and white bra I'd worn out of the Holiday Inn that morning. I wanted to get them so I'd at least have a choice of what to wear in the morning, so I went out to the car en-femme at just before midnight. I carried out with me a pair of jeans and my only pair of drab shoes - the jeans to lighten the load on the case in the morning (I'd be carrying it down steep stairs in heels), and the shoes to force me to wear a pair of heels to breakfast the next morning! No-one saw me leave - the desk was unattended. I swapped over the clothes and returned to the hotel but as it was late I had to ring a bell to get in. The pretty red-haired receptionist gave me a cheery smile, let me in and said "Thank you - good night!". I said good night too and went up to my room where I had some work to finish which kept me busy until 1 AM. In the morning, after a sleep which wasn't quite long enough, I ironed the girly things I'd rescued from the car, showered and put on clean panties and black bra: the rest of the outfit being the same as yesterday morning basically, but with the patent Mary Janes instead of the 2-strap shoes. I have to say that black patent MJ heels with nude-coloured tights or pop socks are my favourite look I think, so they did make me feel good. After doing my hair and moisturising etc., I went to breakfast by about 7:45, which involved getting down rather an awkward flight of stairs in my heels. The girl on reception looked mid-twenties and said "Hi" with a fake smile before I crossed the car park to the Beefeater restaurant. The staff there were very welcoming - all smiles and chatty. When getting the coffee I was facing the kitchen hatch where the Chef was standing, and he started to chat - I'm not at all sure if he knew about my clothes - he couldn't see my heels from where he was, and the restaurant was darker than the kitchen in which he stood. He chatted so much it was hard to get away to eat my breakfast! There weren't many people for breakfast, and I had cereal and coffee. An older guy was sitting some distance away facing me and he kept looking at me with a passive expression. He'd look away if he saw me catch him looking, but not for long. I think it was a mixture of disbelief and mixed in with "I'd love to try that" ;-) I got up and made another coffee, during which process I saw a couple of other female members of staff - all very friendly. When I left they said goodbye very nicely and I went up to my room to pack.

    A long phone call later, I left the room, and an Asian lady was cleaning the landing. She was very pleasant to me - "how are you, how are you" etc. I carefully went down stairs with my case and handed in the room key. This time there was a more genuine smile from the receptionist. She was probably pleased to see me go. I put the case in the car, moved the car to the end of the car park and changed into drabs, as there was nowhere closer to work where it would have been safe to change. All in all, the experience was very positive.

    As an added bonus, that day I had a long lunchtime, so I drove to the Bullring and bought 5 pairs of cute panties in La Senza. I didn't get an opportunity to try them on for about four days. It felt longer.

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    Senior Member drag n fly's Avatar
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    Thank you, Melanie, for this wonderful account of your day to day adventures..(and they are that). You're a brave person..I know I couldn't do what you do..
    I was drooling at the mention of your black patent Mary Janes....They sound so nice. Is that reference to size 11 in English size? An 11 women's shoe in the US is not particularly unusual..I wear a 9 or 10 men's shoe and about an 11 or 12 women's shoe (I think).. Do you paint your toe nails? It sounds as though you have a wonderful, understanding wife...
    Way to go! Looking forward to the next installment...Thanks again...Jackie
    Jackie

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    Thanks for your kind words Jackie. I was indeed referring to UK size 11, and yes I do paint my toenails, though only when I'm working away. I remove it before I get home because I appreciate my wife's understanding as far as it goes, and don't want to push my luck with it. I bought a new pink nail varnish last week, but haven't tried it yet - that's something for me to look forward to trying next week! You could do it, you know - go out and about dressed. It's just a matter of choosing your location wisely and then overcoming your fear. It is difficult, and has taken me years, but now that I've come as far as I have, I thoroughly recommend it! (Not that I'm very experienced compared to a lot of the girls on here.) Hopefully my upcoming accounts will inspire you to give it a whirl :-)

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    Member Stacey Summer's Avatar
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    What a wonderfully inspiring story! I must admit I'm quite taken by the idea of a pin-stripe skirt, black tights and black patent heels. While I underdress a lot I don't yet have he confidence to go out and about en femme. I will, when I've got a nice wig and I'm confident in my makeup abilities but until then my excursions will be limited to midnight jaunts near my house with a hood on!

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    Shopping in London

    Thank you all for your comments so far. I really enjoy reading stories of the experiences of you others on this forum, and hopefully something I write will spur you on to becoming more confident - those of you who wish to go out in public that is. I certainly have a long way to go, but I've become more confident in the last 8 months than in the 30 years before that. I think it's an age thing - I find that I now care far less than I ever used to about what other people think.

    This little outing involved shopping en-femme (apart from my jeans) in central London. I was working in London for a few days, so travelled there by train. I arrived in London in the mid-afternoon to start work the next morning. For the journey, I'd worn thin black semi-opaque pop socks, white cotton panties and black femme top under my drab Hollister jersey. Male shoes unfortunately. A few stops from home, I took off the Hollister top and wore just the femme top for the rest of the rail journey. No-one said anything, not even the ticket collector who stamped my ticket.

    I got to the hotel at around 4 o'clock. It was a small boutique hotel in the Bloomsbury area. I checked in with my drab jersey on over my femme top, but once in my room I changed the black pop socks for nude tights, put a bra on, with my now-familiar black and red top combo (I really need more clothes!). Black patent MJ heels completed the outfit. I hung around the room for a bit, plucking up courage, then left. It had only taken about ten minutes of summing up the courage that time - result! I walked down Russell Square, along Tottenham Court Road and took a right into Oxford street. En route, I got a few looks, but the vast majority of people didn't notice or care. I did some shopping, which was one purpose of my expedition - going in all the big stores - New Look, Selfridges etc. It's been one of my ambitions to sit in a coffee shop while dressed, so I went into a Cafe Nero. Sadly I couldn't see any free seats, so I just got a coffee to carry out. The sun was shining and I walked tall. Very few people seemed to notice that I was wearing a femme top and high heels.

    In New Look, one girl noticed me, gasped and clutched her friend, trying to get her to look without seeming obvious about it. She failed at being subtle, but apart from that, no-one laughed, pointed or said anything in the big stores. I spent nearly an hour in Marks and Spencer - they have so many clothes, and it was cool and not too crowded. There was a lot to look at, and I did something I never thought I'd ever have the courage to do: I tried on a skirt and a blouse. A bit naively, I went to the women's changing rooms downstairs. The attendant down there said I had to go upstairs to the men's changing rooms. The attendant upstairs was a man who looked like he had blusher on. He was fine - very polite and friendly. I tried on the skirt (it was part of a suit) and blouse, but they didn't really do it for me (the blouse was too manly!) so I gave them back to the attendant. I looked around the shop some more and eventually found a long light-brown dress/top, which had very feminine frills around the neck and the sleeves, and which I bought without trying on. Following that, I walked back to the hotel, collecting a few curious looks along the way. At one point I heard some guy who I'd just passed say loudly, "What the F***?", but I wasn't looking at him and so don't know if that remark was directed at me. I just carried on walking, and didn't have any adverse reactions apart from that (if it was indeed anything to do with me). The hotel guy on reception did a double take at my heels as I went back in. I saw him later though and he treated me as any other hotel guest, as though nothing had happened at all. I went to my room and tried on my new top. Luckily, it was fabulous! My total time out shopping in central London in high heels was 1 hour and 45 minutes! The tops of my toes were very sore though and I had a blister on one. I can see why GGs complain about wearing heels. Next time I'll try 2 inch heels instead of those 3.5s.

    The next morning, I really wanted to go to breakfast en femme, and so dressed up all ready in a skirt outfit. I paced around the room for a while but didn't have the courage to go downstairs. So much wasted time again!! Eventually I changed again and left for work, en drab.

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    Episode 4 - More hotel adventures

    This is another story of yet more hotel-related escapades. I was away with work for three days, which required two nights in a hotel. The client is one I visit quite frequently, so I am known at the local hotels, and other people tend to stay at those too if they're visiting the same client. My plan this time was to dress only en-femme if possible during my time in the hotel, and so I booked a hotel which was further away and where I wouldn't be likely to meet anyone who knew me or who might recognise me later in work. I chose an airport hotel because many of the guests are transient - only staying one night to catch a flight, people from a variety of cultures are there, and because such hotels are generally busy; I find that the best way not to be noticed is to hide in a crowd. I packed all my femme gear into my suitcase, and hung up my drabs in the car. The plan was simple: after work each day I'd change somewhere into femme clothes, and go to the hotel, drop off my laptop bag etc. I'd then stay en femme until I was nearly at work the next morning, stopping to change somewhere into my office drabs. By hanging my drabs up in the car, they wouldn't need to be ironed for work, and therefore I'd avoid the need for any drabs to be in my suitcase or in my hotel room at all. The day before I left for the trip, two new pairs of shoes (some pretty black ballerina pumps and Mary Jane heels) and a new pair of boots (flat-ish) had been delivered and I couldn't wait to try them on, so I took them with me instead of my normal shoe selection.

    My femme wardrobe is far from complete, and I posess no ladies' trousers or jeans at all. I had never used this particular hotel before, and I was understandably nervous about checking in en-femme. (I should add at this point that I have short hair and stubble, so no wig or makeup for me (yet)). So I decided to compromise with the no-drabs rule and wear my jeans. I changed in another hotel car park, and put on a bra, camisole top and a black long-sleeve casual ladies top. Wearing my black opaque patterned pop-socks under my jeans, (as I underdress I'd worn them all day to work too) I wore my black ballerinas on top. After hanging up my work clothes carefully in the car, and I finally walked to the hotel and checked in.

    The lighting in the hotel was quite subdued, and the ladies attending reception were polite and helpful. No-one seemed to notice what I was wearing really. I went up to my room, then realised I needed to borrow an iron so went back to reception to borrow one. I took the iron up to my room, painted my toe nails a lovely cherry red and ironed my selection of clothes whilst my nails dried. After a shower, I put on one of my wife's blue flowery summery tops over a strapless bra, with jeans and panties on my lower half, and nude pop socks with cream and pink polka-dot socks over them to protect my toes from the new boots. These completed the look - a trendy, casual girly look. After a bit of self-persuasion, I went down to the restaurant for dinner. I got lots of looks on the way in. The staff were very polite, especially the gorgeous blonde who was the reception committee. I sat on the middle table of three and at each of the others were seated two men - probably work colleagues. The men to my left laughed quite a lot and stared openly, whereas the ones to my right sniggered quietly to themselves and looked across occasionally. The novelty soon wore off though and they moved on to other thoughts after a few minutes. Then, the men to my left, left, and were replaced by a man who didn't even appear to notice me. The meal was very nice, and I left feeling much better than when I'd come into the restaurant. As I left, people looked out of curiosity as I passed. I stopped at reception for them to validate my car park ticket, and they were very helpful and polite. Then I went back to my room for the night and to choose my outfit for the next morning.

    I got up at about 6:30, intending to go down to breakfast in a skirt, which is something I've never done before. After showering I dressed - nice panties and bra, with a cami-top, black opague tights, a black knee-length skirt, a light brown dress/top and the new black Mary Janes. I looked good, if I say so myself. However, I couldn't get up the courage to go down to the restaurant. I paced around - lecturing myself on how I was my own man and could wear what I liked - for over an hour. In the end, I had to go to work, so I brushed my teeth and left without breakfast. I was still en femme though. I sashayed through reception, heels clicking on the wooden floor. There must have been around eight people there, and one receptionist, who was on the phone and didn't see me at all. A couple of blokes gave me grudgingly appreciative smiles - one nodded his head slowly, not in a gay way, but I think acknowledging the effort and courage required. Maybe he was a CDer too; who knows?

    Not far from my workplace I pulled into a hotel car park and changed into work drab, hanging my femme things up in the car to keep them nice for that night. Work came and went, another busy day, until at last I was free to leave and drive straight to my nearby changing car park. Changing took about 15 minutes, including a couple of pauses to make sure no-one was watching, but then I was back wearing the nice clothes I'd had on that morning. When I arrived at my hotel, around 6:30 PM, there were a couple of guys outside having beer. The weather was fabulous and I'd have liked to have done the same! (That's going on my list of things to do en-femme.) As it was, I sat in the car for a short while, all the time cursing that I've wasted so many hours of my life sat waiting for the coast to be clear. After about five minutes I got out and, remembering to be proud, smoothed down my clothes before locking the car and setting off across the car park. The heels sounded lovely. There was no reaction at all from the beer boys. I saw a few other people but no-one looked twice, though I caught a couple looking from the corners of their eyes. I went up to my room and had a wash, phoned my wife, spent a little while on this forum, and then left (this time without any dithering) to drive to a nearby Tesco Extra Superstore. I say nearby, but it was about fifteen miles. When I arrived at about 8:45 PM, I parked about 200 metres away from the entrance; I didn't want to get too close because the people who hang about outside the store tend to stare at cars which are parking close, and low-key is the aim of my game. As I walked down to the store, a family got out of their car a few metres ahead - the mum, dad and a boy who looked about 8. I don't like being near children when dressed, not because of what they may do or say, but because I can imagine parents going nuts, assuming that all CDers are some kind of pervs. But short of stopping dead in my tracks and looking *really* odd, all I could do was keep going. Happily, the whole family smiled at me, which made me feel a lot better. I entered the store, passing quite a few people who looked as though they might be CDer-bashers, but who didn't bat an eyelid. (I guess we CDers can stereotype as well as the next person!) I bought the food and drink items I wanted, paid and left. I had wanted to buy some opaque tights and some girly body spray, but I was near empty on my courage reserves for the day. On the way out, I saw one of the Tesco girls smiling and grabbing her friend to look, but it wasn't offensive in any way. I left and went back to my car without any further incident. I was so pleased with my escapades thus far, that I drove the five or so miles to a nearby service station to buy a coffee. The place was quiet, and I met only a few people, no-one looking twice. The lady serving the coffees was lovely, calling me "darling" and so on, which was fantastic. It was a bit of a shame that it was a take-out coffee, but I reluctantly made my way to the car and set off back to the hotel, sipping the coffee as I went. The hotel has two car parks, and I had been parking in B, but as that was full, I parked in A. When I got out of the car I noticed that this car park had a PIN keypad to raise the exit barrier instead of the ticket barcode reader that the other car park had. I also noticed a sign about the car park being for residents only and there being a £20 fine for improper use. On the way into the hotel there was a cross-looking elderly lady waiting outside to whom I smiled and said "hello", at which she smiled back. In reception I told the lady about my parking predicament - she was extremely helpful and polite, and there were other hotel guests milling about and not paying me any particular attention. As I headed to the stairs, two women were getting in the lift and their eyes boggled a bit. I was only going up one floor and I paused at the top of the stairs (where the lifts were) to hear what they were saying as they exited the lift. I was sure they'd be talking about me, but they weren't at all, which was encouraging. Once they'd gone, I went to my room, swapped my heels for my fabulously comfortable boots and sat down to write this. All in all, a thoroughly positive experience. Outside work, I didn't wear a stitch of drab - woohoo! Tomorrow I'm going to get up early and do breakfast in a skirt!

    // -- sleep -- //

    I awoke at 5:30 AM, Breakfast didn't start until 6:30 and I tried to go back to sleep until 6. However, my mind started running over the possibilities of the morning and the adrenaline started pumping even while I was still in bed. At 5:45 I gave up trying to get back to sleep and got up. I was going home that evening so I removed the red nail varnish from my toes and showered. Two nights previously I'd trimmed back the hair on my legs as much as I reasonably could without upsetting my wife, so they didn't look bad, especially under tights. I had already decided my outfit the night before, so I dressed in a grey pinstripe knee-length skirt with a smart blue blouse. Underneath those were some pretty pink La Senza panties, a white lacy bra, white cotton camisole top and tan coloured tights. The outfit cried out for my new Mary Jane heels, so of course I had to answer its demand. After only a short time dithering in my room I opened the door and stepped into the corridor. A man was walking towards me and I instinctively ducked back into the room and shut the door. Dammit! I was determined to go to breakfast dressed, and yet I'd immediately hidden from the first person I'd seen. After two minutes I steeled myself, left the room again, and this time I actually made it downstairs, taking the lift because I was feeling brave. Reception was empty, but the breakfast area was bustling with staff and a dozen or so guests. The staff were very polite and friendly, especially the women. None of the guests looked twice, stared or laughed, which was nice. My worst enemy was the floor, which was highly polished wood and extremely slippery. I'm used to walking in heels on smooth surfaces, but this was something else. Although my heels were only 2.5 inches, I slipped at least three times, which was rather embarrassing, although no-one else seemed to notice. If they did, they hid it well. They sat me at a table in a discreet corner, where I was out of sight of the main restaurant section. There was one other person in that area but I didn't see him even look up. It was a self-service breakfast, so I teetered around getting coffee, juice, cereal and yoghurt before settling down to breakfast. Yes, I had the shakes, but not nearly as badly as the first time I had breakfast en femme.

    After breakfast I left and took the stairs (got to fight the onset of the expanding midriff) back to my room uneventfully, where I packed, brushed my teeth and made ready to leave the hotel. I got in the lift with my case and bag on floor 1 and pressed "0", but to my dismay the lift went up to level 3, a short journey during which I vowed never to use lifts again. The doors opened and a man got in wearing a suit, carrying a suit carrier and wheeling a suitcase. He was mid 40s I'd say. I expected an awkward journey, but I said "Morning" and he said "Morning", and I moaned that I'd wanted to go to the ground floor but the lift took me to 3, and he moaned that the hotel was warm and that the air-con in his room hadn't worked. So it was a very typical British lift conversation really, which was nice. I sauntered through reception, no-one really taking much notice and had a bit of a walk to the North car park. A Transit van with two men inside was following slowly, and I couldn't work out if it was because they didn't want to run over the suitcase I was wheeling or if they couldn't believe their eyes. Maybe if they'd only seen me from the back they thought I was actually a woman (not that likely really). Who knows? As I opened the car and loaded the case into it, they turned right, the passenger still looking, though his face was devoid of expression.

    I let myself out of the car park using the information kindly provided the night before, and drove back to the Tesco store. After the usual ten-minute internal argument in the car I got out and walked into the store at about 8am. No-one payed any attention initially. I noticed, as I walked the aisles, that the sound of my heels was generating a rapid ping-pong reverb effect, which unnerved me a bit as it sounded extremely loud to me - a hazard of an empty store I guess. I went to the cosmetics section and chose a pretty pink nail varnish and some Charlie "Chic" body scent. I then walked over to the ladies clothing section to look at the half-price sale items. It felt good to be open about my intentions and because there were some full-length mirrors there I was able to hold items up against myself, which was the closest I could get to trying them on. Around this time I noticed a few members of staff making seemingly unnecessary journeys past the end of my aisle, one girl smirking like mad. I guessed that word had got out and they were coming to have a look at the freak, but I might have been wrong. Either way, I made my way to the self-service checkout, paid, and left. There were no problems at all on the way back to the car, and I drove to my changing-car-park to get back to drab.

    Time fully dressed en-femme before work: just over 2 hrs. Goals achieved: dressing, having breakfast, leaving hotel, shopping for femme items, all in a nice smart skirt outfit and heels. Unintentional new experiences: being in a lift with someone else and having a chat. As far as I'm concerned, that's a pretty good start to a day! It's a shame it was all followed by a day in work, but as least I was underdressed. Over the whole trip, apart from when I was actually in work, I spent the whole time dressed, and it was thrilling from start to finish. I highly recommend it.

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