It’s Brexit Day.

Is it in? Is it out? Have you finished yet?

They are the questions that have haunted every British crossdresser for the last three years.

Well, it’s done. It is what it is. It’s time to keep calm and carry on and put on something hot. Here’s a few ideas to get you going.

In just a few hours – at 23.01 GMT Britain will have left the European Union. While in many ways nothing changes, there will be a series of administrative shifts that will change the cornerstone of British foreign, economic and social policies. The following twelve months will result in a series of trade changes that gradually will take effect. Just as a reminder, the average time for a trade deal to be completed is… seven years. In other words, things will change but at a very slow pace. Most of the real change will be in the minds of the populace.

While some will find this a sad moment and others celebrate a sense of new sovereignty, the reality is we really don’t know how this is going to go. If ever there was a time to say, “I’m putting on some nice new panties and will keep calm and carry on”, this is the time.

So, pour a nice glass of wine (probably French) and settle down and watch the fun. It’s going to be interesting. One thing you can be sure of – Britain is very good at adapting and moving forward. This is likely to be the case this time too.

A final thought… In ten years time this may make more sense. The UK may be the first of several countries that choose to leave, for one reason or another. So, time will give some perspective. In the meantime, put on those heels and put your best foot forward!

Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 40 is out.

Veronica inspected me critically and then continued, “You’d better get used to referring to yourself as ‘Andrea’,” she said. “It’s going to be a long and painful path if you don’t get that right.”

I smiled and tried to diffuse the tension.

“What do you mean,” I asked.

Veronica turned around and leaned over the chair. As she did so for the first time I noticed a few livid red welts on her back.

Read Clothes Maketh The Man.

There’s thrush in Marjorie’s bush.

I was a little surprised to see Ali in my garden this morning, spying over the fence in Marjorie’s direction, looking through an enormous pair of binoculars.  Now, you’ll remember Marjorie is Amanda’s lover.

It’s very cold at this time of year and much of the wildlife of the garden retreats into the foliage where it’s warmer. Ali takes a keen interest in such things.

I quietly crept up beside Ali and tried to see what he was looking at so intently.

“What on earth are you looking at, Ali?” I asked quietly, pulling my robe tightly around my body.

“It’s Marjorie’s pussy,” he whispered back.

A moment later Marjorie’s back door swung out and she came striding across the garden towards us, her impressive physique sailing toward us like a battle ship with sixteen inch guns primed and being brought to bare directly at Ali.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, arms crossed across her thinly veiled breasts and looking like thunder.

“I was watching your pussy,” said Ali.

Thinking I’d better diffuse the situation before the chill air exposed any of us further I invited Marjorie in for a cup of tea, and Ali joined us in the kitchen.

“I don’t much like being spied upon,” said Marjorie, as I poured the tea.  At that very moment Sylvester arrived and joined us in the kitchen. He placed hi enormous mug on the table beside our delicate tea cups, and smiled expectantly.

Ali piped up, “I’m not spying on you.  I was just checking out your pussy.” I do wonder about Ali’s language skills at times.

Sylvester smiled, and I shot him a glance hoping he’d get the message to behave.

Ali continued, “it was about to get the thrush.”

Marjorie looked livid.

“I’ve noticed they’ve been getting into your bush in this cool weather,” he added not helping himself very much.

I managed to calm Marjorie down, and assured her Ali meant no disrespect. It’s so easy to offend when dealing with such sensitivities. I suppose I have learned to be more careful in my language recently. Especially with all the talk about pronouns we hear these days. I do find that the best approach is to try and be as sensitive to others needs as possible. After all, in the end we are all just trying to get along as nicely and with as much kindness as possible. I do feel that is the approach that brings the best in good taste to our friendships and our relationships.

Indeed, I was feeling rather pleased with myself as we all enjoyed some Danish pastries and a lovely cup of tea and chatted. You’ll probably appreciate that this is one of my great skills. Bringing calm where there was agitation and disruption, before I arrived.

As I walked Marjorie to the back door when it was time to go she smiled at me and squeezed my hand.

“I’m sorry if I’m over sensitive, Fiona,” she said.

“Oh, don’t be so silly,” I said. I added, “Besides, in spring I can hardly wait to see your tits in the garden myself,” and closed the door behind her.

Have a lovely week.

Fiona

Anyone for a turkey enema?

A healthy diet is essential for a great crossdressing look.

As the new year rolls into action I have been working with Sebastian, my personal trainer, to tone and shape my body. He is a very helpful young man, I must say. 

I am determined that this year I will eat more healthily and reduce my carbon footprint in 2020. Perhaps a few less flights, and a few more vegetables are in order. Don’t you think it is important to enjoy a healthy amount of fresh fruit in your diet?

Last night it was a delightful surprise to be invited to a cocktail party held by a friend of Sebastian’s sister, Rainbow. While Rainbow is a certified carrot crunching yoga hippie, some of her yoga clients are quite unusual people. It was pleasant to be invited to one of their parties at a very exclusive address and I was interested to see how it would work out. After all, it can be exhausting having parties with Sylvester, Ali and Amanda, that often disintegrate into mayhem and occasionally someone being tied up and abandoned naked in a public park at 3 am. I suppose this is what you get for associating with people who need to have their back shaved periodically – and that’s just Amanda. How nice it would be to meet some people of quality.

In preparation I was thrilled to find that The Drag Queen Closet has a great new range of evening gowns on sale at present – you can see some of them here – I’d recently received one of their creations that was perfect for the night.

By the time I had got dressed and ready I must say I really did look quite spectacular, if a little overdressed. Nonetheless, it’s nice to go over the top now and then.

Sebastian and I arrived and were shown into the ornate house and met by Carina (there’s always a Carina), Rainbow’s client. She swept up to us looking spectacular in her little black cocktail number.  She carried a tray loaded down with hors d’oeuvre.

Sebastian introduced us and our hostess beamed an expensive smile.

“Would you like a clam? Or perhaps a cocktail sausage?” she asked. “Oh, and which pronoun do you prefer, he, she or them?”

The tiny woman was almost vibrating with energy. I sensed she’d been doing a few too many yoga classes. She would likely benefit from a nice cleansing turkey enema.

I looked at Carina quizzically, trying to decide whether she was joking, and to see if her choice of hors d’oevre was somehow connected with the pronouns question. At that moment Rainbow appeared, and gave her brother a hug.

“Hey,” said Sebastian smiling at her. “You look…”

Sebastian was searching for words.

Carina chimed in cheerfully, “Earthy! That’s what I said! Rainbow you look so very ‘earthy’. I wish I was so brave,” she added.

Rainbow looked confused and replied, “Brave?”

“Yes, I mean I would never have been so brave as to make my own clothes. And wear them out,” said Carina. “Fiona, would you like a drink? I have a couple of special cocktails. Perhaps you’d like the carrot and Kale with a shot of vodka. Or maybe the Orange and langoustine gin. You should try them. I invented them myself.”

“Well, I am trying to eat and drink in a healthy way for the new year.  Perhaps the orange and langoustine gin.” I glanced around the room at the very fashionable set of guests. The ratio of chins to people was definitely on the low side. “And you’d better make it a double. But do me a favor and hold the orange.” I paused a moment and then said, “and the langoustines.”

Sebastian slipped off in search of a proper drink and headed toward what looked like a bar, followed by Carina.

As she hurried off, Rainbow turned to me looking confused and said, “Did she just say my clothes are worn out? I think I’ve been insulted, but I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” I said, “You’ve been insulted. But I wouldn’t worry about it. Let’s drink the silly cow’s gin and go and get some poutine at The Junction. They’ve got a show on at 10.”

Sebastian reappeared at that moment and said that Carina’s husband, Nigel (it had to be), had offered him the most disgusting cocktail he’d ever tasted.

“It’s one part gin, one part coca cola and a teaspoon of olive oil. He calls it an Exxon Valdez. I had it on the rocks, but it was so disgusting I spilled it into that aquarium.”

Across the room there was a very expensive looking aquarium that was looking a little the worse for having an Exxon Valdez poured into it.

Carina returned with our drinks and then went on to circulate with some of the many other guests.

“I think it’s time to bounce,” I said to Sebastian and Rainbow. Let’s go somewhere everyone knows our names.

I hope you’re getting the new year off to a wonderful start. If you’ve not already singed up to my Patreon please join me at the $1 level here – http://Patreon.com/fionadobson and help me make 2020 a fantastic year.

😊

Fiona Dobson

Breaking the cycle of buying and throwing out clothes.

I remember pulling into a remote gas station on an empty road and thinking I was probably the only customer they had seen that day. In a plastic bag beside me was a pair of tights, some cheap panties and a bra that didn’t really fit.

I knew they had to go. I had been wearing the items, hurriedly bought as I’d made my way across the state on a business trip, when I was in my hotel room. After all, no one could possibly find out about this little pecadillo of mine, and what could be nicer than indulging this desire on a business trip in the middle of nowhere. But now that trip was over and it was time to dump out the evidence. This place looked safe enough, remote and overlooked by all but those who had to be here.

The gas station attendant was inside their little shop, watching something on the TV. I got out of the car and filled the tank, glancing at the trash can on the forecourt. If I dumped the clothes here they would likely go unnoticed. After all, who sorts through their trash at a gas station. No one would know I was disposing of the clothes I’d been wearing just a few hours ago. No one would guess that I was a crossdresser. After checking both ways up and down the lonely highway, I reached into the car and hurriedly tossed the plastic bag into the half full trash.

Continue reading “Breaking the cycle of buying and throwing out clothes.”