My Real Idol Who I Could Actually Touch

By Stephanie Julianna

Many of my Saturday readers will remember recently my articles about my Lady Idols from the Golden Age of Hollywood and TV.  Then there was the one about my Female Impersonator Idols, all of whom were gorgeous and eventually transitioned.  These were the musings of a forever crossdresser as I was growing up and finding my footing with desires and my gender.

These are also the wonderful memories of an older crossdresser who appreciated all the feminine beauty around him from the earliest age.  But all those idols were just dreams.  There was no more chance of me ever meeting any of them than putting a man on the moon.  LOL.  All those early dreams predated that event.  I am old. 

A week ago on the 23rd, I had the most amazing experience that reminded me of one of the most important GG’s in my life.  A bit of a back story is needed here.  I am the youngest of the second oldest male on my Polish side and the oldest sibling on my Irish side.  My Dad was born in 1915 and had 5 younger siblings with the youngest being born in 1925, my Uncle Al.  He played Minor League Baseball for the NY Giants and married later in life than.  But waiting worked out really great for him and he won the heart of a younger girl,  eight years younger, making her my youngest Aunt.  She was only five years older than my oldest sister.

Al and Genevieve married in 1954 when I was only five years old and I thought he married a movie star.  None of my idols had anything on her.  She was beautiful, had personality up the wazoo, and could even sing.  She was Irish and gorgeous as only those lassies can be.  If that was not enough, she was a fashion plate.  She had an incredible sense of what looked good on her and the camera screamed to take her picture.  That worked out well since Uncle Al was an avid photographer as well.  A kinder and gentler woman never walked the planet.  She made every niece and nephew always feel like they were the only one she wanted to talk with when the families congregated at each others’ homes.  She simply was the girl I always wanted to become.  She passed away in 2008 and left a whole in my heart.

So, why bring her up now?  I got a call from my Cousin Clare to tell me that my Uncle’s ashes were going to be interned on the 23rd after he had also passed away this year.  What I did not know was that my Aunt Gen’s ashes were also going to finally be placed with his since he had held on to them since her death.  There was no way I was not going to attend this event.  Al was the last surviving member of that generation in my family on both sides and I am an avid genealogist for both sides of my family.  Having also been a Hospice Nurse, the significance of the event was not lost on me.  My cousin could not come back East for the ceremony and her brother, my cousin, was most likely going to be alone if I did not attend.  I made it clear that would not happen and planned to attend.

I drove three and a half hours from Connecticut to a small town in the Poconos of Pennsylvania.  I actually got to the cemetery at the same time as my cousin who lived only a half an hour from the site.  After he signed some papers with staff we were directed to go up to the grave site and the place had been prepared for the ashes to be placed in the ground.  Neither of us had any idea what to expect.  He had both urns with their ashes and a few items that his sister wanted placed with them. 

We talked about what to do since it was just us and no priest or chaplain.  We decided that he would carry and place his Dad’s ashes while I did the same with my Aunt’s.  We prayed silently afterward and found a local eatery to reminisce about our families and past good times. Then I headed home for the long drive back feeling good about myself for having supported my cousins and honored the memory of my Aunt and Uncle.   What finally came to my mind was that of all the family and dozens of cousins in my generation, I ended up with the incredible honor of being the last family member to actually touch my Aunt Gen.  I even placed her urn in the ground.  She meant so much to me.  Back in the 60’s she had met many of the girls that I had dated but when she met my latest girlfriend she said something that she had never said before. After she had made time to chat the girl up she took me aside and said something she had never said before.  “Bobby, this one’s the keeper.”  I already knew that, but getting her stamp of approval just seemed to make the possibility true.  And she was correct since next April, that girl and I will celebrate our 50th Wedding Anniversary.  December 17th we will be together 53 years.  My dream Aunt knew who my dream girl was at first sight, just like I did.  That was her super power.  I believe I was her favorite nephew and I am sure that all my cousins would say the same thing about themselves. She just had that gift.

Every family has or had had an Aunt with those gifts.  I hope her story reminds you of them and the wonderful example that they gave us of what a good woman and person we can be if we just recognize their incredible example.

The picture shown here is of Aunt Gen singing at a wedding in 1953 just before she married my Uncle.  I just loved her sense of style and her movie star image.

Okay, now my mascara is running………

What Is The Right Car For A Lady To Wear?

By Stephanie Julianna (whom we miss greatly!)

Those ladies here, around my age, will attest to my following assertions based on my experience over the years in which I was buying and collecting Nash and American Motors cars.  For you young ones, here is a mini history lesson.      

The first mass produced car was not Ford but the Rambler which started in 1902, a year before Ford.  That Company got bought out by Charles Nash in 1915 after he stepped down as President of General Motors.  Nashes were made from 1916 until the name was dropped in 1957.  The brand name for the entire line became Rambler again in 1958 until 1969.  Then from 1970 until 1989 the line was called AMC (American Motors Corporation) until Chrysler bought the company to get the Jeep brand which AMC also owned.  AMC was the last independent car manufacturer in the USA from literally hundreds that came and went since the earliest days of the industry.     

So what does Nash and Rambler have to do with ladies?   For many reasons, they  became the “go to” car for the “little woman” of the house.  When it became common for the wives and single women to drive by the Fifties,  Nash and Rambler were the logical choice for a second car in the family.  Even new, there were many model choices two thirds to half the price of a Chevy or Ford.  The top of the Line Ambassador was still pricey, most potential buyers got easier stamps of approval from the man of the house if they looked at the Nash Statesman or even cheaper Rambler American.     

I cannot tell you how many times I have been approached at car shows over the years with one of my Ramblers by viewers.  “My Grandma had a Rambler!”  “My Aunt had a Nash.”  “My first car in High School was a Rambler American.”   “My college Sorority Sister had a Gremlin.”  (Yes, that was also an AMC car .)      Editorial comment: I owned a Gremlin! Green, of course.

The second big reason that so many girls and ladies had Ramblers and AMC’s was, that two years down the road, they depreciated like a brick and could be bought used for a quarter of the sticker price when new.  Dad or hubby was not going to risk anything more pricey on a “LADY DRIVER”. 

However, Nash and AMC did have a car for the woman who had a mind of her own and could afford what she wanted.  As early as the 1930’s, Nash marketed their top of the line Ambassador toward women.  That’s where my taste lies.  I have had seven Ambassadors over the years, a 1929, ’38, ’51, ’55, ’58, ’65 and ’69.  Half were originally owned by women.        

In 1965 AMC decided to make the first Ambassador convertible since 1948.  This became their flagship model for the year and also was the longest car that they had built since the mid 1930’s, coming in at 17 and 1/2 feet long.  When optioned with the right accessories the price easily drifted into the low $4000 range.  You could get a Buick or Oldsmobile for that kind of money.  For Rambler’s effort, they made one of the classiest, cleanest and most drivable cars they had made to date.  AND they marketed to women, and husbands who loved their wives enough, to buy one for “the love of his life”.       

Rambler still touted their affordable value by stating in their ads for the 1965 Ambassador Convertible, “Buy your Luxury Convertible two years earlier. Other luxury brands had similar models but one to two thousand dollars higher in price.  And the advertising did little to hide the fact that they wanted a woman behind the wheel as all the publicity and brochure photos show here.  And note the picture with the man in the “ladies” seat, not behind the steering wheel!     

My bucket list includes having my picture taken in a period correct dress with my Powder Blue beauty pictured here. 

My lady’s car is no kitten with a 327 cubic inch (5.3L) big block V-8 with a factory Holley 4 barrel.  With dual exhaust she touts 290 HP.  Handling is lady-like easy due to power steering and rare factory power disc front brakes.  With an automatic transmission and even an electrically powered Convertible top, almost everything is managed at the touch of a button or the shift of a lever.  No need to chance breaking a nail.  Lastly, this lady loves choices in music and loves her factory AM/FM radio.  Only well appointed cars had one of those in 1965 and it was the 5th highest priced Rambler option offered in ’65.     

So for you ladies like me, who love looking pretty and standing out from the crowd, think about buying a Rambler, the car preferred by more crossdressers (and their Grandmas, Aunts and girlfriends) than any other brand.


By Stephanie Julianna

The longer that you have been dressing en femme, I can guess that the number of purges in your life is greater than not.  I am not referring to sticking your fingers down your throat to vomit all that stuff you should not have eaten to forget about Covid and the world in general.  We are going to explore your stash of female clothes or the side of the closet that your wife allows you to hang your alternate clothing.      

So, let’s talk about good purges and bad purges and whether they work or are just another way to make clothiers happy when you refill your closet 6 months later.     

The number one reason most of us purge is because, as they say, going on the wagon.  We are stopping all this crossdressing thing and going “straight”.  “No more dressing, just going to appreciate my boring male clothes for the rest of my life.”        

You clean out the closet and drive to Goodwill, or maybe you drag the big black bags full of your favorite dress, skirts and unmentionables to one of those big yellow or white drop boxes at the local gas station.  All those anxious shopping trips trying to convince the SA that you are buying the dress for your wife for nothing.  Or, a wonderful day of shopping en femme wasted.       

Fast forward 6 months.  There you are at Nordstrom’s Closet or Kohl’s rebuilding your wardrobe.  I knew you’d be back so why didn’t you?  Simple. I was that girl, then Lady, many times over the decades.  Then something wonderful happened.  I looked in the mirror one day and said to myself, “Hey girl, I think I like you.” 

Over time that turned to love and for the first time in my life I felt complete.  I was 50.     

So if you think purges work, I am sorry to tell you that they truly never work.  You will dress again, in months, years or even decades, but you will dress again.  And it will feel wonderful.  Just accept it.     

For the record though, fashion does not stop while you are finding yourself.  You may have even mooned over the loss of all those dresses that you collected over time.  I can say with some certainty that the best thing that may have happened was for some of those fashions finding their way to the $1.00 rack for someone to buy as the basis for their next costume party.  The operative word is “costume.”  If it classifies as such, this is a great reason to actually purge it from your wardrobe.      

To illustrate my point I am including a few pictures of dresses that I loved to wear for many reasons and now would not get caught dead in.  So it’s OK to laugh.  I chuckle sometimes when I find forgotten pictures.  Some styles lasted years and others seemed to last only months.  And don’t get me started on wigs and hairstyles.  Growing pains.     

Purges for the sake of style are good.  They were never meant to increase your self esteem or happiness.  Keep the LBD, they never go out of style and dump the trendy stuff. 

Have fun shopping.

Steph, we love and miss you!!


By Stephanie Julianna

All of you ladies reading here obviously love dressing up as feminine as possible.  For many, it is the wonderful feeling of the amazing fabrics and cut of cloth that speak to us.  Others love the hairstyles and the feel of long locks on their necks and the way the hair frames their faces.  The magic of makeup delights the hearts of many as they strategically use powders and rouges to sculpt the best look to highlight their best features and play down others.  And the other individual delights are as numerous as the number of people who love to experience them.     

For some of us there is a desire to experience the whole enchilada.    That requires what I call true commitments that require time, and lots of physical alterations, some permanent, others temporary, while others require constant maintenance.  

The most common thing that most of us do is shave or use a depilatory.  Some of us take it to another level with electrolysis or laser treatments for a permanent solution.  A few, like me, are blessed.  Back in the early ’80’s I started cycling to get in shape and realized it was a great cover to keep my legs hair free.  After a few months using Nair, I never had to shave again.  And we all agree that nothing feels more amazingly feminine than nylons stretched taut over smooth legs. 

Weight loss is also a common effort.  Our own Kandi has shown us the benefits that losing weight and maintaining it has on her presentation and increases wardrobe choices immeasurably.  Two years ago I also lost over 20 lbs. and got back into size 10-12 dresses.  My outfit choices soared but more importantly, I recouped my health.  I have often said that our desire to look passable as ladies not only fills an emotional place but can also improve our overall health.  It has for me and many others.     

Back in my youth, I was enamored by feminine eyebrows.  I loved the delicate arc and the mysterious look a woman can create with just the correct shadow and eye makeup.  Who here can remember the look created by Veronica Lake?  I think it is a look that has stood the test of time and I try to replicate it when I can.  But there is a price to pay.  Over the years I have kept my brows neat and slowly shaped them to where I wanted them.  However, I also had to eventually be content with them 24/7.   And they have thinned out more with age.  Commitment.  And I love it when I pencil them in creating that undeniably female look.       

There is a fine line between commitment, desire and obsession.  I will confess that over the decades I have had to deal with all three.  I am sure that many here have as well.  As I have been slowly revealing over the course of my posts here, the ’80’s were a transformative period in my life. They were also very confusing.  I was becoming committed to looking more feminine as I was hanging out with many professional impersonators and crossdressers.  I lost my way and eventually was taking hormones.  The results were amazing and within 2 years I easily filled a 36B bra.  My wife was not happy and I denied taking anything.  My father had man boobs in his old age and I passed it off as genetic.  She’s not stupid and simply held on tight until I came around.  I thought it was commitment.  I guess it was, but it was dramatically misplaced.     

It would be other close friends in the same community who reminded me of what commitments were the most important.  Wife and Family.

There is an upside to that episode.  No falsies, except for occasional use of little silicon cutlets when I need a little cleavage for certain dresses.  Otherwise I do what any under endowed woman would do with my residual assets and make the best with what God left me.  There is nothing more liberating than using the assets you have, whether they are man made or God given, or both.     

Commitment can be a two edged sword.  I have survived some confusing times as I am sure many here have.  But in the long run, it is our true commitments that are the most worthwhile.  

May your journey be as safe and rewarding as possible. 

As always I welcome your comments and hope that there is something of value for you in the telling.

Stephanie Julianna

You are loved and missed Steph!

My Other Amazing Idols

By Stephanie Julianna

As a follow-up to last week’s post I am presenting the other ladies who I idolized as a teen.  The three main publications that featured professional “female impersonators”  were: Lee Brewster’s “Drag Magazine”, “Female Mimics” and the cleverly titled, “Female Impersonators”.  I had been aware that there was this “profession” out there from seeing ads in the NYC area newspapers that ran small ads featuring one of the girls at Club 82 in NYC.  And then there was the traveling drag show, The Jewel Box Review that took out bigger ads with pictures of more girls, when they came to town.  But these pictures were of poor quality and usually very small.     

But my world changed when I wandered down the infamous 42nd Street into the Red Light district one Saturday in 1962.  I was not long before I was a regular customer at one book store just past Broadway.  The proprietor was a big black guy named Erin.  He surmised my interest and was so nice to me, never making me feel like I was strange or bad for looking at all the female mimic mags and crossdressing fiction books in the left back corner of the small shop.  I became a loyal customer for the next 20 years.  It was the magazines mentioned above that made me realize the reality that a genetic male could truly attain a beautiful female image.  There were so many but there were three that rose to the top of my list.      

Most boys would look at pictures of these amazing entertainers and say that they would love to bed them not knowing that they were looking at men.  However, I looked at them and wished I could look and dress like them.  As it turned out, none were American.  All performed at the famed Au Carrousel in Paris and two were French and one was British.  When you see them you will agree that these ladies were the Best of the Best and what crossdresser would not want to look as amazing as them?

Starting at number 3 is April Ashley (above).  I actually found out about her when I saw a Cover story in the Midnight News that had a headline “Lady was a Man”.  I was around 12 at the time.  But it was in the professional drag magazines that I realized that she started out at the Au Carrousel with the stage name Tony April.

Number 2 was Coccinelle (above).  My jaw dropped when I first saw a photo layout of her in Drag Magazine.  She eventually was featured in all three magazines, if my memory is correct.  That being said, I must admit that I wasn’t sure that she was really an impersonator.  How could someone that feminine and beautiful ever have been born male?  My young mind was blown away.  

Well, if Coccinelle blew my mind, then Bambi made it explode.  My Number 1 pick of all the professionals I ever saw. OMG!  There she was in all her glory.  Everything that I wanted to be.  She had attained  the level of beauty that my GG idols, mentioned last week, had attained and she was not born female. 

In my early days of dressing this lady gave me a bar to try to reach.  I knew that I could never achieve that level of perfection without the total commitment to the art which meant hormones and surgeries.  I eventually decided that loss of family and friends was too steep a price to pay but they peppered my dreams often and even to this day.     

When I researched the internet for this post I was reminded of their beauty and  that everyone of them did transition completely during their years as entertainers.  I do not know about you, but it would have been a shame if they hadn’t.  For me, the world was just a bit more beautiful because they were in it.  And they gave me a dream.       

The last picture is how far below the bar I fell but a decent showing since the bar was so amazingly high. 

Thank you ladies. 

You enriched my life more than you can ever imagine.

Thank you Stephanie, you have paid it forward and done the same for us! I love and miss you!!

My GG Idols

We miss you, Stephanie!

By Stephanie Julianna

As a little boy who always wanted to dress like a girl, the fifties were an exciting time for the real girls to dress dreamy and be as feminine as they wanted to be.  Where I grew up on Long Island there were four movie theaters within bicycle range of my house.  My Mom was very happy with having three kids and then I was born.  The upside is that I had freedoms that my older siblings never had and for 35 cents I could spend an entire Saturday at the movies.  For 25 cents I could see a double feature with cartoons and trailers that filled an entire afternoon.  The extra 10 cents was for a nickel candy bar for each movie.  “Just be home for dinner at 6.”  My Mom would call out as I jumped on my bike.  I was only eight years old.     

That’s when Hollywood introduced me to GG idols other than my sisters and a few classmates and neighbors.  So I will introduce you to those actresses and singers who became my idols.      

Theresa Brewer

I have decided to introduce them in the order that I first fell in love with them.  The first was a perky, cute singer with a childlike voice.  But it was her dresses and hairdos that caught my attention.  Her Name was Theresa Brewer and it was around 1955 when I would see her on TV singing.  She stood center stage and it looked like her tea length dress filled the screen.  Her skirts must have had a half a dozen bouffant petticoats beneath and they swayed and swished as she bounced to the beat of the music.  I wanted to grow up just like her.  It was not sexual.  It was just a young kid’s dream.     

But I was a kid and then another took over my heart’s desire.  I saw “Tammy and the Bachelor”.  It was 1957 and I was now 8 years old.  I saw this girl on screen that was almost as much of a boy as me except she was definitely more pretty and shapely.  And then, like magic, she blossomed before my eyes and went from overalls to wearing gorgeous dresses, and she could sing. 

Well, if Debbie Reynolds could do all that maybe there was still hope for me.  I actually gave my girl self the name Debbie and used that well into my public life until the late ’80’s.     

It was now 1958 and that’s when I saw GiGi!  Leslie Caron’s GiGi starts out where Tammy left off. She is all girl, always in skirts and is a bit rough around the edges.   Not unlike the way I felt when I wore my sisters’ dresses when I was left alone.  But where Debbie stays cute and feminine, Leslie ends up as a sophisticated lady in Grand Epoch Parisian gowns. AND she could sing as well.  So now I was seeing the possible progression of how girls grew up. LOL     

Doris Day

But I’m still a kid with the attention span of a gnat.  it’s 1959 and that is when I saw Doris Day in Pillow Talk.  OMG! She was gorgeous but in the girl next door kind of way.  Actually, they all were the girls next door.  AND COULD SHE SING and act!  In my mind that was the woman I wished I could grow up to be.  Double features sometimes paired an older movie with the current one and so I saw “Teachers Pet” as well.  My fate was sealed and I knew just what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Doris Day.     

In every case, all these women were short, petite and beautiful in a cute sort of way.  All could sing and the latter three could also dance and act.  But it was their dresses and hair styles that I envied and wished I could someday wear.  I don’t think there is a reader here who doesn’t have a similar list for a variety of reasons.  

Epilogue.  Puberty, 1961, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Audrey Hepburn.  A deadly combination for my crossdressing heart.  Moon River has been my personal theme song ever since.  LOL     

When I think of these ladies I remember that I saw possibilities.  And the world was my oyster and then Society stepped in.   AAAARGH!

Hugs to all.  I love your comments and look forward to hearing them.  Hope this stirred some good memories for all of you no matter what decade your idols inhabited.  Stephanie Julianna

Improvements in a Changing World

We love and miss Stephanie! Check out today’s new post at after you revisit this gem from Steph!

By Stephanie Julianna

 I would like to address Emily’s thoughts about Society’s acceptance of our desire to experience life as a female, if only on a part-time basis.  Since I have been closely watching and then participating in this activity for over 65 years I have probably experienced most examples along the entire spectrum.     

I have been very fortunate as a crossdresser to be of the size of the average woman.  At 5’5″ I have been able to literally stay below the radar when out and about, even in heels. LOL 

I have experienced complete acceptance without raising an eyebrow in my early days.  However, I also had some of my worst experiences during that same time back in the ’80’s.       

One of these events sticks out in my mind.  I was on a date with a friend and  crossdresser admirer.  We decided to go to The Top Of the World restaurant at the World Trade Center.  I was dressed in a pretty satin dress and thought I had nailed my look that night.  We got on the elevator and were joined by a group of teen couples, also dressed to the nines.  It turned out that some posh school was having their prom that night as well.  The teens spotted me and read me as quickly as if I had forgotten to put my wig on.  They started laughing and pointing and it became the longest elevator ride of my life.  By the time we reached the top I was in tears and we quickly took the next elevator down.     

The good thing about this story is that the same age kids today would never do that.  They are so sensitive to the transgendered community that I can not imagine a repeat of that experience.  However, I have mostly had very positive experiences that sometimes even surprised me. 

Another time, out with that same friend, Sam, we decided to go to a new club for “Queens” as we were called back then.  It was close to the Holidays and I bought a pretty outfit that included a chiffon white blouse, black velvet straight skirt with a wide red satin belt with spike heels (see above).  As we approached the door, we were stopped by the guy holding the rope and politely told us that the club was not for mixed couples.  When we realized the issue, I used my deepest voice to thank him for the compliment and his smile grew as he welcomed us in.     

Sales associates and restaurant staff have also been wonderful over the years, and like Emily has related to me, even seem to like chatting us up making us feel like just one of the girls.  It actually took me a while to get used to this when I stopped doing the drag scene 20 years ago and went out in “straight” public only.       

I remember a time during those early public days shopping at Nordstrom’s Closet in the winter.  I was wearing over the calf leather 4″ heel boots with a skirt and short Winter coat.  As I passed a SA she smiled at me and said, “I love your boots.”.  I shyly thanked her and continued shopping.  This happened over and over at different times in those first few years before I stopped questioning their motives and started to confidently thank them and even answer questions like, “Where did you buy that?” or some other question.  I now will even ask a SA in a changing room what she thinks of a dress I am trying on.        

Sadly, I will never be able to ask my wife of 49 years these questions since we are in a “I don’t want to see it.” relationship even though she has known about it since ’68.  It has been like this for so long that I would now feel uncomfortable if she did see me dressed.  Yet I have no issue with strangers seeing me.  It all comes back to that magical word, ACCEPTANCE. 

What I do know more than ever is that I am now happy for the most important reason of all, I accept who I am and love how I turned out.     

Pictures show times when acceptance was the experience savored.  One was taken the night we hit that club I spoke of above.  The other was just before a dinner out with a friend last July.


Check out the excitement building at!

Yeah, I know, we’ve seen this before…work with me here. I have to finish packing up the place!


This is us, the CD/TG community.  31 flavors, variations, different slants on the world.  Beginning with the obvious differences, in their basic definitions: CDs, we like women’s clothing, presenting ourselves as women.  TGs, wish to become and/or feel as though they are women. There are many other different varieties, non-binary, gender fluid, etc. You all know them and probably identify with one of them.

I’ll try to best explain my flavor.  I enjoy being dressed, looking stylish.  I am not hung up on a specific item or type of clothing, don’t seek to hyper-feminize myself.  For example, I love a stylish pair of heels.  I don’t seek to wear 4 inch stilettos just because they are ultra-feminine.  My presentation is designed for the mainstream world, that of a woman my age.  That is both because of who I am, my mindset and view of the world as well as how I enjoy my Kandi time.  For me, just going about the day (on an outing dressed), with little notice is the perfect day. That means I assimilated, blended if you will.  Practicality now trumps sensuality. I certainly enjoy the complements I receive.  Those are 100% acts of of kindness by strangers, but they are also an acknowledgement that I fooled no one.  Not a bad thing, mind you, just the reality.

There are so many other flavors.  Those that wish to shock.  Those that wish to stand out, to be noticed.  Those that want to cram every possible thing they can into an outing or evening out.  Those that never leave their houses, so dress in a fashion that they may not if out.  The tent here is a wide one and each slice or niche is very different than the other.  I tell many, just because I share a like of wearing women’s clothing with someone doesn’t mean we have anything in common.  I also wear men’s clothing and do not have anything in common with every man.

For many of us, it’s all about getting dressed.  When dressed, it’s still all about being dressed.  When you don’t or aren’t able to get out often, I completely get that.  But once you move beyond that, things change.  Many women I met early on in my journey are no longer on the scene or have moved on, evolved.  I have done that as well.  It’s not different than how a woman progresses in her life, it’s just a bit more compressed and then you find yourself, discover who you are and settle in to live your life.

I read on CD forums someone who thrills about having worn a bra.  Wants feedback on how an outfit looks (often in Icabode Crane fashion with a headless photo).  That is all part of our wanting to feel a part of something, to feel like a part of a community.  We all need that.  But we grow, evolve, move forward.

My flavor?  I’d describe it as Butter Pecan.  Really good, but very basic.  Not one of those flavors with fifteen different ingredients.  A classic.  I’m a step up from a simple Vanilla, but nothing fancy.  I know my place, stay in my lane, help and support within our community where I can, do what I can to help others and myself.

Will that be a single or double scoop?

Will we see you tomorrow at the new place?

Ok, Kandi, Your Turn On The Couch!

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Another blast from the past, reworked, updated, rethought.


What I am about to talk about is only my belief.  It is not anything scientific and it is my belief from personal experience. Why am I a crossdresser?  This theory of mine has nothing to do with being transgendered.  I believe that those that are transgendered are born that way.  Much like someone is born gay, left handed, tall, athletic, highly intelligent, etc…  I believe crossdressing is a learned behavior and happens early in our lives.  I have rarely read about someone becoming a crossdresser in their adulthood (although it does happen).  Most stories talk about trying on a sister’s clothing or a mother’s clothing in our youth.  Now please understand my analogy here, I am NOT equating these two things, but it demonstrates my point.  If you are abused as a child, odds are good that you will grow up to be an abuser.  You process those experiences differently as a child.  If you get abused as an adult, you probably have the ability to defend yourself in some fashion and can make a conscious decision that this is behavior you do not wish to engage in.

Look we all know how much fun it is crossdressing when we have the ability to do so freely.  I contend that if you injected every male with a truth serum and dressed them, a significant percentage would enjoy the experience.  So as a child, if we are exposed to crossdressing, it becomes hard wired into us, before we have the societal guidelines drilled into us that boys do this and girls do that.  My very first memory is as a five year old, behind my neighbor’s garage (two neighborhood girls, I even remember their names, Denise and Lisa), putting on a dress.  I still know what that dress felt like and what color it was.  That instant Kandi was born although she took almost 50 years to make her debut.  From then on it was that urge, sneaking into the basement to try on a bra that was in the wash or wearing that dress that was on the pile for donation.  During high school I had a paper route in the early morning.  Of course, it was impossible to get anyone to cover the route, so I never joined my family for vacations.  That meant being home alone for a few days at a time, which meant trying on a whole bunch of things.

Also contributing to these urges, I am sure, was the fact that I was the oldest, first born son.  Then in successive years my parents had three girls.  I am sure somewhere along the way subconsciously I felt like girls got all the attention.  Three sisters, no brother.  Two daughters, no son.  Living with women for the significant majority of my life.  That means I almost always had easy access to women’s clothing.

Make any sense?  That is why I wince when I see any scenario where a young boy is dressed as a girl.  If it’s his choice, God bless him, probably transgendered.  If not, you just may have created another crossdresser.  There were three periods in my life where I did not live with women: college, about a year after college and one other time.  Near as I can remember, I never had these urges during those periods in my life.

I lived by myself when I finally landed my first job. I know for a fact, no CDing. Never crossed my mind, never thought about it. I believe that from the second half of 1979 (yeah, some of us dinosaurs roamed the Earth back then) until around mid 1986, these feeling were gone. Gone but not forgotten! But it all came rushing back and in about 2014, took over my life. A blessing? Absolutely. A curse? No question. This is so many different great and deplorable (thanks for the word Hillary!) things. Life, if you understand it, please let me know.

Okay, time is up Doctor.  I’ll pay on my way out. I believe that was $0.05, correct? Here is my insurance card.