As a busy transgender advertising executive I am constantly amazed at the amount of work I find myself doing. It is, however, nothing compared to what I would have to do to account for all the things that the American government lays blame at our feet for.
For example, according to the great and the wise that sit in the White House, I should by my age have spent millions in public funds on gender affirming care, carried out several school shootings, won and returned several Olympic medals for sporting events I cheated in, shared national secrets with our global enemies, crashed at least one military helicopter into a civil airliner, had several abortions, had at least one complete sex change at the great cost to the public purse while in prison, collected social security on behalf of my great great grandmother, who has been dead for 150 years, eaten my neighbours cat, faked climate change science and of course rigged an election.
All this while trying to stay on top of my gender transition and coordinate my wardrobe and trans a bunch of kids. It’s insane. I don’t think I’ve done even half of those things!
In conversation recently with a friend, they shared a story about a family member and it put me in mind of this clip. If you’ve not seen it before it’s a remarkable piece of advertising from J and B Scotch Whisky.
It was when I was cycling back from the advertising agency toward Huckleberry close thinking about the last meeting of the day that a rather odd thought crossed my mind. As you likely know, working in the advertising business I am consulted on a wide range of public relations matters by all sorts of organisations.
I found myself wondering how appropriate it was that the dental school at the medical faculty of the University of British Columbia should wish to celebrate the hundred year anniversary of their organisation by putting up a plaque. It just seemed strangely ironic. I can’t think why.
Being the first week of November it’s the start of the advertising agency awards dinners. I was excited to go out tonight, and sure enough when I arrived home I ran upstairs, had a quick shower and started dressing for the evening. It was then that I was disturbed by a terrific banging. Not what you think. Sylvester had arrived at the front door, and I hurried downstairs and let him in. I take him along to these things as my plus one. And this evening I was up for an award for my work on negotiation skills. Perhaps you are familiar with my groundbreaking work on ‘Getting to No’ or ‘The Crossdresser’s Workplace Phrase Book‘.
Sylvester came upstairs to the bathroom and watched me doing my make up and caught me up on the local gossip. You know, he comes into the bathroom and plants himself on the toilet, and chatters away like a very large budgerigar. Thankfully he was not putting the toilet to use, but merely using it as a place to sit. Regardless, it is a little disturbing being watched by a man on the bog as I do my make up.
“..and that Marcus down the road, the one that works out in the park every morning. He was in my shop the other day, it turns out he’s coming out as gay,” said Sylvester. “He said life had sort of crept up on him from behind and leapt on him. He feels he can’t go through life hiding behind a mask.”
I carefully applied a little contouring to my face and then started working on my eye shadow. I do like Mac make up, and they do a lot for the community.
“Oh,” I said as I studied my eyelids in the mirror, “I totally understand.”
I checked my lipstick color against my blouse. Perfect.
“Yes,” I said thoughtfully. “I always thought Marcus had something going on. I think it was those shiny gold boy shorts he wears when he works out. No, I couldn’t live life behind a mask,” I continued as I completed the final touches to my lip liner. “I feel it’s important to be absolutely authentic and to live one’s truth.”
I put a touch of shimmer dust on my cheekbones, straightened my hair and stepped into my heels, and grabbed a little Prada clutch bag.
“It’s too easy to become superficial if one simply submits to societal norms,” I said as we shut the front door and walked to Sylvester’s car.
“No,” said Sylvester opening the card door for me. “It’s better to be your true self,” he agreed.
For those feeling concerned about the election and needing to chat I would strongly suggest you join my free Whatsapp Support Group. You can find the sign up here – https://fionadobson.com/you-can-now-join-our-online-support-group-for-us-based-trans-people-for-free/ . We’ve got members from all over the US and a few Europeans too. All are welcome. Judging by what the former rapist is doing in terms of appointments, I think we may be in the support group mode for the long haul. One can really only find encouragement from the idea that most of the people he is appointing have a history of massive incompetence and not being able to work with anyone. The idiot Musk is a great example. Just because someone can run a business doesn’t mean they have remotely the skill set to run a government department. Let’s sit back and watch the carnage. I’m sure they will turn on one another soon enough, it’s all they’re good at.
All that said, I hope you have a wonderful week. This is transgender week of awareness. Please take a moment to give your thoughts to Nex Benedict and Brianna Ghey. They are just two lives among many cut short through ignorance and hatred. We must never forget. As we approach Transgender Day Of Remembrance please give them a moments thought or prayer. We must cherish all our sisters.
Fiona
PS. Enjoy the video below. I know I have posted it before, but Boggie is great.
