Friday, August 17, 2018

Jeans in school?

An easy choice for some of us...

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Monday, August 13, 2018

Stacking magic

Like Pokemon, with feminization.  I think this one really brings out the whole ditzification idea I love so.

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Friday, August 10, 2018

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

Monday, August 6, 2018

Bad girl box

I know, not the usual fare.  But I liked the idea...

Saturday, August 4, 2018

Thursday, August 2, 2018

My adventures

Since you asked, I will answer.   I secured some time and privacy on Tuesday night, and wow did I take advantage.  Some out-and-about fearless types may not be impressed with what I did, but I was!

The first step was shopping.  I swept through a number of stores looking for two objectives.  One was a gender-neutralish outfit I could wear and try to pass off.  The second was a decidedly NOT gender-neutral outfit that would earn my attention that gives me that thrill.

I hit a variety of stores, but I happily and openly recommend Rue21 which seems to approach its products by smashing together any trend as close to the moment as possible in various combinations, to see what sticks.  It was during this shopping that I purchased the three items to the right.   More on that in a few minutes.

But I need to relate that I went into a store that offers women's fashion for the college/young adult set.  It was nearly closing time, and the store was empty apparently.  The salesgirl asked if she could help and for the first time...I said yes.  Now, I won't get too deep into details, but I had a rather thin cover story for why I was shopping, and I don't think she fully believed it.  I didn't either.  But it didn't matter.
This woman asked for my preferences, took me on a tour of several things in store, and suggested an outfit.  Then she took me to a dressing room to try on what she had put together.  Wow, was the neckline of the tank top low!  She took that concern in stride, even to the point where she carried a couple other options back and put them over the door of the changing room.

I will admit that it felt a bid odd to be evaluating a top while hearing a girl facetime with her mother about a bathing suit through the wall, but I didn't hear any evidence of their discomfort with a male in the next room.   The final outfit -- plaid grey and pink pants and a black tank top -- isn't really "my" style, but I have such fond reflections on the support and kindness I received that those clothes will have a special place in my heart.  I'm used to getting a thrill from dressing, but not this type of emotional fulfillment and affirmation.

My next adventure was to go through a couple discount stores in "undercover femme".  I had purchased a pair of black bermuda shorts with a button fly.  The legs were tighter than any male shorts would be, and the fly was on the "wrong side".  But of course the biggest difference was the pockets.  I did wedge my wallet and phone into the pockets (barely), but had to carry my keys.  As the idea was to be "undercover" I wondered if anyone would notice that.  They probably wouldn't notice that much though, given my top.  I forced myself, if you will, to choose something with some color.  With its cut and fit, it barely met the waistband of the shorts, and stretched over my chest a bit noticeably.

For the half hour I wore this ensemble in public, there was only one case where a man said "holy shit, you're hearing women's clothing and trying to pass them off as men's!"   No, just kidding. Nobody said that.  And as with most times, after the first 15 minutes, I relaxed enough not to worry.  Though I was certainly careful about when I bent over.

Now primed and ready to go, I changed into what I had purchased earlier the night. The height of trendy and silly.   So the top did cover my lightly padded bra entirely, though as the photo shows it is designed to tie in the front, and stop well before the waist. Simply put, it was never going to cover my stomach.  And the shorts, well, I fit into them, but I'd never before had the experience of tugging shorts down as I stood up.  The pocket linings dangled under the hems of the legs, and the holes worn through showed off even more.  While not illegal, the shorts were certainly on the verge of scandalous.

To the entire thing, I added a silvery necklace with a sparkling bow and small Eiffel Tower charm, a couple pink bracelets, and hot pink boat ballet slipper-type shoes.  I wore no makeup, and put on the backpack.  I've read that small backpacks instead of purses are trendy right now, and even though it was iridescent, not holographic (a big difference according to the salesgirl), I wore it nonetheless.

Here it was Wednesday night, around 9pm, and it was time to be seen.  And, I decided to revisit something that had been a thrill last time.  I decided to revisit a stunt I learned earlier.  It's funny; I know it's been almost an exact year since I did this, but that is coincidence.  I called ahead, and asked the girl on the other end of the line to make whatever sandwich she wanted, and not to be afraid to make it taste bad  I did "warn" her that the person picking it up had lost a bet, and that he would be taking a bite of out of the sandwich and offering to sing a song as a thank you for it.  She was amused by the idea, that much was clear.  Promising moments.

As I got to the place, I saw why it was open later than most Subways.  It was in a gas station convenience store, where there was also a Dunkin Donuts.  After waiting for a break in traffic I went in, heart exultantly pounding.

The lady from the convenience store saw me first.  As usual, the girl at Subway had briefed her coworkers on the excitement to come.  (I've worked weeknights; when it's dead, you look for any sort of break.)  "Wow, look at that!" she said, a smile on her face.  I smiled and dissembled.  "I feel so cold" I answered, which was true.  I've never worn less in public save for when wearing a bathing suit.

The girl closing the donut place called out from her mop "do you feel sexy?" which was probably the line of the night.  I played it off, before picking up the sub.  I paid for it as the girl told me how good ti was that I was holding up my end of the bargain.  But before I could take a customers came in.  So I had to wait while they ordered, avoiding most eye contact and whiling time while she made their sandwiches and they paid.  Ten minutes of feeling in the spotlight.  Wonderful.  After I took a bite - not bad, lots of mustard - she told me that she didn't have a song picked out.  I was free to go.

Now, I did a couple minor errands where I *may* have been seen, but nothing notable.  (I wasted $40 calling a phone domme thinking she might order me around in public -- I've done one in-person and four by phone and they have all been a waste of time and money.  Don't bother, there's no imagination or commitment.  You'd think it was minimum wage.)  There is a final thing worth relating.  I went to a college.   I put the spare key to my car by the base of a lamppost, and walked clear to the other corner.  There...I locked myself out of the car.  Now, my only way home was to walk clear across campus.  Now, it was 1am in the summer, but still...

In the quiet, I could feel the breeze on my bare midriff, listening to my shoes crunch on the gravel.  I was anxious and thrilled, my phone sticking out of my bad pocket like girls' phones everywhere.  I didn't see anyone (I had my glasses off so that doesn't say much).  I did hear some cars driving aroun, which caused my hear to leap, but my the time I retrieved my key, I was feeling cocky.  I blew bubbles, wiggled a bit, stuck a flower in my hair.

By the time I got to my car I'd had a wonderful night of thrilling humiliation and emotional support.  Among the finest of my life, and much to think about on the way home.  What did it mean?  What do I want from these nights?  What next?

Well, if you've read this far, perhaps you can answer that last question.  I have another night of driving ahead of my in a week.  I'm always thinking of ideas - situations where I have no choice to be seen, perhaps mocked, en femme.  The perfection situation would have me ACT in such a way, but easier said than done.  Strangers don't want to embarrass someone, as much as they might be given permission, though they don't mind enjoying that person's embarrassment.  If you have ideas, or even could participate, please email me, or leave a comment.  I can't promise I'll do it all, or any of it, but I'm always thinking!  Thanks for reading!

Wednesday, August 1, 2018