Last Wednesday I spent the whole day dressed as a woman. My garments of choice for the hot Melbourne day were a black shoestring strap singlet, a low sitting short black and white tartan skirt, and a pair of lace-up knee high black boots. Going for a natural daytime look, I used a little black eyeliner across the top eyelid and from the outside corner to just short of the middle of the lower lid. I also used a little light brown eyebrow pencil just to define my brows. It really is amazing how some brow pencil - even without any other make-up - can really lift the whole face.
Anyway, I was meeting a friend for coffee. It was in a reasonably fashionable/open-minded area, and it was mid-morning, so I figured I might be able to get a park pretty close to our agreed meeting place. Therefore I figured that it might be a relatively safe way for me to “dip my toes” into the pool of being female in public. As an afterthought I realised it was Halloween, so I had that excuse up my figurative sleeve if any strangers took issue with my attire.
From my house to the agreed location is only a five minute drive. If I wasn’t wearing a skirt, I would have ridden my bicycle. I was astonished at how many men stared at me in that short trip. The “male gaze”. As someone who loves cars and is attracted to women, I’m well aware of the attractiveness of a girl behind the wheel of a classic car. However, to the heterosexual males out there: there’s a difference between a look, smile and/or nod of appreciation, and just solidly staring with a completely blank face, or lecherously leaning out of your car window. You should be WATCHING THE ROAD!!! It’s very intimidating. Perhaps moreso for me than for a woman because of the male propensity to switch from admiration of a woman to extreme hostility when they realise that I am not entirely female. Nevertheless, for me it’s pretty cool to “pass” so easily.
So the friend I was meeting up with is someone I’ve known for a long time, but only recently discovered we have more than pleasantries to share. As such, she has seen me perform in bands over the years and has therefore witnessed my sometimes flamboyant dress code, but was unaware that I may have any actual gender stuff going on. A big thanks to her for not saying anything at first, and just treating it as the catch-up it was. Another big thanks to her for later commenting on how good she thought I looked, which then lead into a brief discussion of transgenderism. That comment gave me a great boost and gave me the strength and the comfort to continue wearing this outfit when I later went to Uni that same day.
The walk from my car to my first destination on campus was the big hurdle in my mind. After that it would be short trips from building to building. Hardly enough time for anyone to notice anything unusual. I also visited my friend who works in the campus bookshop. A number of the people who work there exclaimed that I “pull that look off way too well.” I think they thought it was an Halloween thing, not realising that there is more to it.
After that it was home again. Just near my place there’s an hairdresser I’ve been saving up to visit. There was a park out the front so I stopped. I was feeling stronger, more comfortable, more motivated from these modest yet monumental successes of the day. I did some quick calculations to see if I could afford to strike while the iron is hot and with a guesstimate answer of “probably”, I strode inside. Apparently I’m not their first transgender client, and we had a great chat. It was especially cool that when I was asked how I have been doing my hair previously, I said that I’ve had a DeathHawk for at least ten years - “you see, I’m into old school Goth” that’s when The Damned’s ‘Grimly Fiendish’ started playing over the salon speakers. Couldn’t have timed it better! After discussing styles and ideas, I booked an appointment.
Then, back home where I didn’t care to change out of my outfit at all. I was feeling comfortable and somehow kinda ‘right’. I wanted to go for a ride, but I couldn’t ride in a skirt. So I changed into a pair of stretchy women’s exercise shorts. Then I got nervous about wearing the very feminine singlet I’d been wearing all day. You see, the standard ride I go on goes through some less than open minded areas, and the bike track follows the road. I eventually decided that I had to spend the whole day as a woman or I would be dissatisfied later when I would inevitably say to myself I spent *most* of the day as a woman.
After a lovely 25km ride, it was back home for dinner and some T.V. whilst I mounted my car stereo speakers in the new kick panels I have fabricated. (just gotta get around to putting them in the car now!). My evening finished by curling up in bed with a copy of Fred Puhn’s “How to make your car handle” until I fell asleep.
All in all, I would have to say it was a day which offered stiff competition to Wallace and Gromit’s own “Grand Day Out.”
