oxymoron67: (dino head)
[personal profile] oxymoron67
Even though I'm not in it anymore, LJ Idol's prompts right now are pretty good. So here is an entry for one of them.


Set the Way Back machine to ... 1987? 1988? Around then.

It started, as these things are wont to do, with a party. This party had a theme: Come As You're Normally Not.

I had the hardest time coming up with something, until I realized... I not EVER a woman!

I went to the G. C. Murphy's in Downtown Pittsburgh (this place is worth a post in itself),and wading through the crazies, I found this flimsy, frilly, hideous bright pink nightgown and blue housecoat.

Then I tried on a few bras. None of them really fit. (It also says something about this store that a large, bearded man trying on bras didn't cause a commotion. Seriously, the few people who noticed were all, "Another stupid day.")

Yes, I did that. I wasn't sober. I'm not sure I would have been able to do that sober.

I wasn't aiming for glamour: I was going for grandmother realness. Unless company was coming over, my grandmother would dress in a housedress* (my uncle referred to these dresses as "party shifts") stockings that she rolled down into doughnuts around her ankles, slippers and, since she was usually cooking, an apron.

*Frequently, she would alter these dresses. She hated lace and she hated ANYTHING touching her neck. So she would just take a pair of scissors to these dresses and cut off the offending parts. These dresses were special.

So I went for a nighttime version of this.

I think I borrowed a red wig for this. I may be remembering wrong. One of the times I cross dressed, I used a red wig.

Anyway, I went to the party, and I was a hit.

One of the most interesting things that happened is that about six or seven of the women at the party kept helping me with the makeup. That was fun. At first, I looked like a bearded guy in an ugly nightgown with bad guyliner, but by the end of the night, I looked like the bearded lady ready for a night of streetwalking.

Well, I would have had to change the outfit, because that nightgown? Not sexy.

The transformation was quite something.

It was also kind of fun, because this happened after the Godawful "coming out, but the family said, 'Hah. No.'" thing. So, I deeply closeted and more than a little scared. I think I decided to do this because it was a way to let off steam, and, in a fashion that, if questioned, I could just say, "Oh, it's a joke."

Anyway, the night itself was a lot of fun. I changed when I got to the party, and then changed back when I left, so I wasn't out on the street in my outfit, but I did keep the nail polish for a few days.

While I've cross dressed since, I never really got into it. I mean, I have a theatrical enough personality that I could be a drag queen if I wanted to, but there are a few obstacles to that:

1) High heels. I've never been able to balance on them.
2) Body issues. I don't shave my FACE. I'm going to wax/shave/pluck my entire furry body? No.
3) The amount of work. There is a lot of work that goes in to doing these things properly. I didn't have the time, patience or anyone to really discuss it with.

So it was mostly for play.
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