I suspect most of us can relate, but I clearly remember the first time I wore stockings. The slow, quiet, delicate feeling of gently pulling them up my leg… my careful, trembling hand fastening the intricate lace to my garter belt…
I can recall this moment as if it had happened a few moments ago. I can recall the new perspective that five inch stilettos brought. The joy of wearing panties and realizing that they were everything I had fantasized they would be.
These joyful, intimate memories will stay with me forever. After a lifetime of femme clothes the thrill of my hands gliding a zipper up the back of a dress never fades.
Many aspects of all of THIS become, well, normal after a time. When I go out en femme I usually forget I am out en femme. Which sounds a little odd but years ago I was hyper aware I was a t-girl at the mall, a coffee shop, a museum… now I just float through my day and don’t think of myself as a t-girl. I’m just ME. I’m just HER.
But the happiness that a new dress, a new pair of heels brings will never vanish. I will always feel my soul lightening when a new outfit is reflected back in a mirror that brings out my femininity, my happiness.
And yes this might be shallow but I don’t care.
I think most of us can identify with this. I think crossdressers and t-girls can often have a different relationship with clothes, a different perspective, a different connection that some cis women have.
I want to be very careful here and I don’t want to be misunderstood. I know from time to time the conversation comes up about cis women not appreciating high heels or taking advantage of being allowed to wear a skirt every day. But I think that’s very short-sighted. When I am en femme I am wearing a cute dress and heels and amazing makeup… but if I presented as femme every day? I can’t imagine I would make the same wardrobe choices that I currently do. I am positive I would have lazy days where leggings and flip-flops would be my good-to outfit.
Presenting en femme is a tiny vacation for me, a lovely break from my boy life.
I suppose what I mean to say is that I absolutely acknowledge that the excitement I feel when I wear a bra, stockings, and corset would PROBABLY lessen if I was full-time. It takes a lot of work for Hannah to claw her way out my male presentation and being Hannah every day, all day sounds, well, exhausting.
If I am being honest I sometimes, well, forget that not every feminine presenting person will have the same perspective and reaction to the same clothes that I fantasize about. Some cis girls will see a pair of strappy stilettos and comment how on sexy they look… but also how painful they look whereas I only think of how AMAZING they are.
Wearing heels is a treat for me. AND I acknowledge that I feel this way BECAUSE they are not an option for me on a daily basis.
Does this make sense?? NONE of this is a criticism of ANYONE that isn’t excited about a miniskirt or platform heels.
As I mentioned before, I sometimes forget that a dress that I am wearing won’t always inspire the same joy in someone else. A dress is a magical thing… but for others it’s a piece of uncomfortable fabric.
All of this came to mind a few weeks ago at my most recent photo shoot. I had brought a new gown (well, new to me) and I was soooo excited to wear it. It took some doing and it didn’t fit QUITE right in ALL of the right places but with the help of Shannonlee and Alicia the zipper made it’s way up and I was enchanted with my reflection.
I felt like a girl at a wedding reception, I felt like a prom queen, I felt beautiful. I danced, I twirled, I glided across the floor. I was a princess, I was a bridesmaid, I was a movie star, I was the girl turning every head at a gala.
In my mind I wondered why anyone wouldn’t want to wear a dress like this. Why wouldn’t anyone want to feel this way? Why wouldn’t anyone want to look this way? I wanted to wear this gown forever…
But with each thought of happiness and wonder I reminded myself that if I had to wear this dress for hours and hours I would PROBABLY have a different perspective.
I love who Hannah is. Her life. Her clothes. There is a mixture of feelings I have when I (physically) leave her world. When I remove my makeup, unlace my corset, unfasten my strappy heels, and reverently put her wig back into the box. I am never sad to change back to my male presentation. Mostly it’s a feeling of gratefulness that I have Hannah, that I am Hannah. That I have the life that WE have. I am blessed to have a more beautiful world to spend a day in.