I’m not feeling myself this morning!

Hi,

So, today I’m writing to talk about how to find great ideas to help you crossdress. We all need a little inspiration and time to do some planning from time to time. One of the simplest and most fun ways to spend a pleasant evening with a glass of wine and a pair of nylons, is to browse Pinterest looking for looks to emulate.

Many of you have heard me suggesting you do something other than looking at lingerie as your only crossdressing option.  Especially if you’re over 45, trying to look like a teenage bimbo is a goal you’re unlikely to reach. We’re not all as naturally lovely as Nikki Buxton, who I was very happy to chat with a while ago. As I’ve said before, a pig in a lingerie is still a pig. Not a phrase Amanda would appreciate. Better to aim for an attainable goal.

Personally I love steampunk styles. It speaks of fun, adventure, culture and sophistication. Check out my Pinterest for what turns my crank!

Looking like a great 45 year old woman is a viable option for a 45 year old crossdresser. Anyway, I have literally just started a Pinterest site where I post a few of my own ideas for dressing. If you follow me you may get to post to the Members Ideas Board. These may inspire you, or you may browse other looks and style. Either way, jump in there and look for a style that works for you. It’s fun and once you have a bit of an idea, you can go put and shop the entire outfit.

Once you’ve done that, crank up the volume and listen to today’s music video (below) and have a dance around the living room. What better way is there to indulge your feminine side?

If you’re in the north, I hope you are enjoying this lovely snowy weather. If not, have a great week anyway.

😊

Fiona

ZZ Top - Sharp Dressed Man (OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO)
It’s always wise to dress for success!
Chastity Devices – Breast Forms – Wigs – Corsets

I woke up today to a terrific banging.

I awoke this morning to a terrific banging. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t like that at all.


I pulled on a lovely apricot silk gown, and fluffy slippers, and hurried down to the front door, where I was confronted by Sylvester and Sebastian chatting away, framed by snow in the doorway.

“I had a huge curry, last night,” said Sylvester, “and I woke up to find we’d had a terrific dump!”

“Good morning, Sylvester,” I said as the two of them stood on my snowy doorstep. “I assume you’re talking about this heavy snowfall.”

“It’s about 9 inches and I couldn’t get up the drive at all.”

“Can we use your rear entrance, Fiona?” said Sebastian.  If I had a nickel for everytime…

“Why don’t you boys slip around the back of the house. Ali’s very kindly cleared the lane. You should be able to park there without difficulty,” I said.

And with that the two boys disappeared and left me to put on the hot chocolate, and warm some croissants. My friends are joining me for breakfast today as we’re working on some new ideas for the premium program. If you’re a member of this wonderful program you’ll know how much fun we have with it. If you’re not, then think about jumping in!

Have a lovely day.

🙂

Fiona

Become a Patron!

Imagine, it’s 12 inches long and you’re right on top of it!

Imagine, it’s 12 inches long and you’re right on top of it!

Hi,

“What’s that,” I asked Max, my personal trainer.

“My Christmas list, Fiona.”

“Ah,” I replied.  “I thought it might be something like that, I replied, a little disappointed. It seems a little while since I got on top of anything except for my email inbox.

And speaking of my inbox, I have received a number of emails regarding last weeks’ message about Max’s new girlfriend and her comment about being able to ‘wang her own pickle jar.’

In reply to Michelle, in Tennessee, I am not sure it’s possible to do that with a racoon, but suspect that your animal welfare department may have something to say about it.

Vivian, in San Antonio, I think what you suggested is keenly encouraged by some religions, and is probably all right between consenting adults, but ultimately down to the individual church-goer.

I think Max’s Christmas list involves a large number of gifts, most of which will have his new girlfriend staring at the ceiling of this studio apartment until February.

And as we get ready for the holiday season, there’s a couple of things to remember. Obviously the first thing is to think about getting yourself a little present to encourage yourself. In the video below (which will probably be pulled by Youtube very soon) you may find some ideas. It’s the great Canadian singer, Bryan Adams. I am not entirely  sure this is what he had in mind when he wrote this song, but it works rather well, don’t you think?

If the video doesn’t appear – try this link https://vimeo.com/194093382

http://FionaDobson.com
The second thing to remember is that you can give yourself the gift of confidence and connection by investing in my Premium Program or Little Black Book, if you’re not already a member. If you are, then get out on the Little Black Book and send some Christmas greetings to the Gurls all around the world, who would love to hear from you.

🙂

Fiona

 

Become a Patron!

Rainbow’s career change.

As I was washing some vegetables this morning after my weekly shop at the organic vegetable store my phone rang, and who should it be but Sebastian, my personal trainer.

“Sebastian,” I said answering the call. “How lovely to hear from you. I’m just washing my organic ethically sourced zuchinis.”

This seemed to stop him in his tracks, but he quickly recovered himself.

“Fiona,” he said, clearly agitated, “what on earth have you been saying to Rainbow?”

You’ll remember that Rainbow is Sebastian’s flakey kombucha drinking yoga teacher sister.

“I chatted with her just yesterday,” I said. “We had a lovely conversation on that thing Max installed on my phone. Snatchchat, I think it’s called.”

“But what did you say to her,” he persisted.

“Oh, we talked about all sorts of things,” I replied.  “That Mr. Willow down the road. He got caught cheating on his wife with her twin sister. Funny story actually.”

Before I could go on Sebastian cut in, “Did you give her some career advice?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t give her career advice,” I said. “Not after the incident at the vets place.” –

Sebastian, sounded quite exasperated.

“What on earth’s the matter?” I asked.

Sounding very puzzled, he replied, “I just don’t understand it.  She’s going on about you telling her that she should be a therapist.”

“What, Rainbow?”  I replied, almost swallowing my tongue in surprise.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Suddenly a thought came to my mind. It came with the crushing inevitability of a garbage truck backing purposefully over a child’s unseen tricycle left out in the lane.

“Oh, wait,” I said. “I seem to remember saying to her that she should ‘see’ a therapist. Yes, that was it. Somewhere after the second bottle of Cab Sauvignon. Did you know her last therapist took his own life? Terrible!”

“Oh God,” said Sebastian. “She thinks you said she should ‘be’ a therapist. And now she’s all excited about getting trained.”

“It would be an unusual choice for a person like Rainbow,” I said. “Very unusual.”

You can read Rainbow’s profile here.

I shall watch her development with the sense of foreboding it deserves.

Have a lovely week,

Fiona

PS. Enjoy some Contrapoints below.

There’s never a dull moment in the advertising business.

As you likely know, I work for a well known advertising agency in an active office in this delightful city. It is often said that for each job in some industries, several other people are supported. So, for example while a car plant may employ 4,000 people a further 6,000 jobs are created servicing the 4,000 people employed with things like transport, employment services and catering. In much the same way, my work supports not just myself, but also Sylvester my mechanic, Sebastian my personal trainer, Ali my gardener, young Max who helps with technology on my blog and several other assorted hangers on and peripheral individuals.  

I was talking on this very subject with Bernard, my photographer, when we were out on agency business just the other day. Ali, who so lovingly tends my garden, spends more time there than I ever do. Instead, while he enjoys my delightful champaign colored roses in my garden I am out driving with Bernard on a task for the advertising agency. And I’m paying Ali! It all seems rather obtuse. That said, I do love Ali, and his daughters are sweetness itself. They arrived in Canada just a couple of years ago, refugees from the war in Syria.

Continue reading “There’s never a dull moment in the advertising business.”

What are you driving?

I could not help noticing, whilst driving home from the advertising agency the other day, the names on the back of vehicles. The model names of vehicles are of interest to me, from both the branding perspective and what it tells me about the drivers.

Have you been reading ‘Clothes Maketh The Man‘? Enjoy the ongoing serial now in its third year.

A therapist member of mine recently pointed out to me that several of their erectile dysfunction clients did indeed drive muscle cars, in more than one instance a Hummer. Frankly I feel anyone driving a Hummer should be on their knees begging forgiveness from their children as they pump heat into an increasingly fragile environment. On the other hand, given the erectile dysfunction issues associate with Hummer ownership theirs a good chance that having children is one complication these thoughtless tools will not have to concern themselves with.

Sylvester, on the other hand has shunned the muscles cars and even removed the photo on his office wall of him posing with his Dodge Penetrator 3000. I am pleased to see him mellowing. I do remember the day he pulled up outside my house, on his phone calling me to tell me he was there.

“I’m just pulling into your garage,” he said. “No wait, I’m reversing.  Pulling in again… backing up, and going in again now. Perhaps I should go in the laneway round the back. I can get the back way, but it’s a bit tight.”

You know, I may have said this before, but Sylvester can be quite coarse at times.

Personally I like to drive a Buick Vagina. It’s the limited Silhouette edition. So much more my style. Both feminine and powerful, with the twin turbo V6 with the cuddle seats option.

Vehicle names and designs do tell us a lot about their drivers. I noticed a Kia Soul in the traffic as I was driving home, and I can only speculate that some Korean designer sat down and thought hard about what a car designed for Spongebob Squarepants might look like, and then took up the challenge to build it. Ironically the driver of this particular vehicle did look like a cartoon character.

Sebastian, my vegetarian personal trainer, drives a Kia Hymen when not riding his electric bicycle. His sister, Rainbow, drives a Nissan Slide with a synchromatic gearbox. Amanda drives a Prius, which is entirely predictable, while of course Ali, my gardener, drives the Smart Car with a rifle rack on the rear window, adapted to carry his gardening tools. He’s proud to declare he always shows up with his hoes.

One of my Vancouver members, Lenni, is originally from Alaska, and proudly tells of her mother having driven a Ford LTD wagon. This vehicle, with a 7.5 litre engine has the dubious distinction of being capable of hitting a moose, killing it, and then being able to transport it back to the trailor park for butchering. I can’t help thinking life in Alaska holds wonders I am pleased not to have either witnessed or shared.

Instead I think I’ll go and get Sylvester to change the fluids in my Buick Vagina.

Have a lovely week.

Fiona

Long live the King.

I was lamenting the passing of our Queen yesterday, along with a huge number of people. My voice need hardly be added to the outpouring of regret by so many others, and yet I do feel a sense of loss. The Queen was, after all, an influence my entire life, and there’s no doubt about it, whatever else she was, she really was a likeable sort of monarch.

It was fitting that I wore a nice black sweater, black stockings and a black kilt yesterday. On that slightly mournful note, I have some lovely crossdressing funeral ideas HERE.

After my yoga session this morning I was sitting in my kitchen, enjoying a calming cup of tea with Sebastian, when he started telling me the news about his sister, Rainbow.

“Rainbow’s not seeing that optician anymore,” said Sebastian a little mournfully.

“I’m sorry,” I said, confused.

“They’ve broken up. It’s a pity, I think he was very good for her,” continued Sebastian. “Apparently when she said she couldn’t see him anymore he told her to stand a little closer, and then said ‘And now?’”

I looked at Sebastian and tried to figure out if he was joking.

“Well, Rainbow has some unusual ideas,” I said.

“She certainly does. She told me she felt their energies didn’t ‘co-mingle’ they way she wanted,” he concluded, looking through the window into the far distance in deep contemplation.

I tell you this as much as anything to set the scene. The window that overlooks my garden is really quite lovely but of late I have had Ali trimming some of the bushes just around the base of the window. He’s a talented gardener, and moves quite silently about the place, his long white gown floating like some ethereal gardening spirit. Now and then he stands up, his head appearing in my wind, and says something before once again going down on hands and knees working on among the foliage of my beautiful flowers. It can be quite disconcerting at times. He’s just like a Syrian Jack In The Box, appearing out of nowhere. It can be quite startling.

Rainbow isn’t seeing the optician anymore.

It was in this tranquil scene of quiet contemplation as I sipped my chamomile tea that Ali’s wizened head appeared, rising out of nowhere and chimed in, “Tits like coconuts.”

I steadied my nerves as Ali sank out of my line of vision, and then rising and leaning out of the window looked down into the flower beds and said, “I beg your pardon?”

Sebastian struggled back onto his stool.

Ali surfaced back into view and replied, “You were saying how much you like the birdsong of summer, and wanted to attract more birds into your garden.”

I stared blankly before remembering a conversation we’d had just the other day. I do like to attract wildlife into the garden, and had asked Ali if he had any thoughts on the matter.

“Oh yes,” he went on. “Lot’s of birds love coconuts. If you hang them on a string from one of the trees it’s sure to attract a few. You know, tits, chaffinches and sparrows. They all love coconuts.”

I slowly sat down once more, and thanked Ali for his contribution to the conversation. I really do wonder just how much English he understands, at times. I may have to talk with his English teacher.

I do hope you’re having a delightful end of summer. Be sure to have a look around the website – there’s a lot there and I always try to keep things fun.

😊

Fiona

I know what I believe, no need to wear that on my sleeve…

I was doing yoga in my garden just this morning with Sebastian, when he raised something that’s been on my mind a while.

“Fiona,” he said, while adjusting my position in a deep hip opening yoga position, “I have always like that on your blog you are unafraid to deal with the deep and penetrating issues.”

I felt him leaning into my posture, pressing me slightly deeper into the posture.

Continue reading “I know what I believe, no need to wear that on my sleeve…”

Would you like to stuff my beaver?

Hi,

This morning, just as I was emerging from my morning yoga session, I was surprised to see Max (my neighbour’s son), huffing and puffing and coming in my rear entrance, a bundle of excited youthful anticipation. He was hurrying up the garden path, as I pulled up my yoga pants, and adjusted my hair.

Sebastian, my personal trainer, was as surprised as I was myself. He likes to come early to stretch me, as I’m sure my regular members are aware.

“Fiona,” said Max, bursting into my kitchen. “Can I take a look at your beaver?”

As you probably know, yesterday was Canada Day. It’s a tradition in Huckleberry Close, to come over to my house on Canada Day, and look at my beaver – a beautiful piece of taxidermy –  the centrepiece of the Canada Day party I always throw on the Canada Day Weekend, to celebrate us throwing off the shackles of oppressive colonialism before Canada declared itself free of tyrannical rule from London. Actually, that’s not really true. We just all sort of agreed that we’d have a new flag and continue to be the friends we’ve always been. No one was being either tyrannical or oppressive, but it’s a good excuse for a party. And the centre piece of the party is my beaver, a stuffed animal that has become something of a mascot over the years. It’s traditional for us to enjoy some lovely Canadian Wines, from British Columbia (a place that is neither British nor Columbian), swap hockey stories and talk about Zamboni’s while apologizing to one another. We all eat poutine and make fun of people we love from Newfoundland, and generally act in an understated but quietly superior way, while listening to The Tragically Hip, 54 40, Five Man Electrical Band, Rush and many other great Canadian bands.

I told Max, “Darling, calm down. My beaver is open to everyone, just give me a moment to prepare it! You’ll get your turn. Just don’t get too excited. It’s Canada Day, you’ll have to pace yourself.”

We have so many wonderful traditions in Canada. Being Canadian means so many wonderful things to all the peoples of our country. We love our diversity, our first nations people and our democracy, which we value enough to protect.

If Max gets over excited, of course, it will be over before it’s really started. It can happen to us all. I handed him a pot of maple syrup and suggested he put it out on the garden table while I went down to get the noble beast, and then he could examine my beaver to his hearts content.

This year’s wine of choice is Quill, a distinctive Rose from Vancouver Island, which is quite delightful and goes rather well with the short skirt I’m wearing. It’s light, a little cheeky and subtly stimulating.  The wine’s not bad either. I know we’ll be toasting Sylvester, who has decided to commit to a course learning to drive a Zamboni at the local hockey arena. I must get things ready for the party shortly, so this will be a short email.

It may come as a surprise to some of you, but Marjory (my delightful lesbian neighbor) got her hand stuck in my beaver recently while trying to replace some of the stuffing. She was wedged right in there! I know what you’re thinking, what was she of all people doing, jammed up there? Well, she does fancy herself as something of an amateur taxidermist. Strange woman. She’s from Alaska, you know. Eventually we got her hand out, but ever since she’s been acting most strangely. She’s said on more than one occasion that she wishes her hands were a little smaller. I can’t think why! It’s almost as though she’s never heard of lube. I understand it softens the skin nicely and taxidermists swear by it.

I hurried down to the basement and found my beaver, then carried it up to my garden table, already bathed in warm summer sunshine. In the sunlight I could see it has begun to look a little tired. I suppose one can not be surprised. After all, my beaver has been fingered by many over the passing years. And yet, surprisingly it continues to put a contented smile on many of my friends faces. However, I do believe a beaver should be well groomed and well presented. I will speak to my local taxidermist and have him restuff it later this month.

With this in mind I resolved to make a Canada Day offer to all my friends and members. Anyone who emails me with the words in the subject line “Fiona, I’ll stuff your beaver!” before the end of Canada Day weekend, July 3rd, can have a free membership to My Little Black Book. This is worth $2.95 a month for crossdressing gurls, and $4.95 a month to Admirers. So, get your digits moving and I can help get some more members in there.

Have a wonderful Canada day weekend.

😊

Fiona

I’m getting Sylvester’s boxers down.

“That’s it, Sylvester,” I said. “You just take down your boxers and I’ll stick a big one up there!”

While perched on the top of a step ladder Sylvester handed me down the two portraits of his father’s prize winner pedigree boxer dogs. They won the dog show here several years ago, and as I liked the pictures so much Sylvester allowed me to display the paintings in my living room while his apartment was being decorated. They made a nice change, but to be honest I’m a little bored of them now.  I’m replacing them with a huge photograph of Hannibal, my dachshund now.  I do like to freshen up the look of my living room in spring, don’t you?

I’ve had a lovely week, Marjory my neighbour invited me over yesterday evening, having hired a sweet young French chef to cook her birthday dinner. What a handsome young man he is! And I think he took a shine to me, too.

After thanking him in the kitchen for such a lovely meal I spotted something between the frog’s legs, and the cake. So many candles! In the end we lit them, and the chef and my friends all sang happy birthday for Marjory before she blew them all out in the dinning room. It brought quite a lump to my throat. Such fun!

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing today. I’ve been trying to be supportive to Rainbow, Sebastian‘s sister. She’s terribly worried about the people in Ukraine, where she has a number of friends.

“They should do something about those awful Russians,” she said to me while sitting at my kitchen table. “Can’t they send someone?”

“Like who?” I asked.

“I don’t know. The Pope, or the other one,” and then she paused and scratched her head, and then remembering said, “That nice Bono, or Greta Thunberg, perhaps.”

“I’m not sure Greta’s quite the right person,” I replied, “though she might have something to say about the carbon emissions of those useless T72 tanks. They seem to burn very well, if nothing else, but I don’t think that does much for global warming. Then again nor does a thermobaric weapon. The environment doesn’t seem to be a priority for Mr. Putin.”

“I feel so helpless,” she added at length.

“Well, you don’t have to,” I said. “Unicef, the UN agency with a mandate to help women and children, is organising help for women and children in Ukraine. So is UNHCR, who look after refugees.”

Giving here has the funds matched by the agency and is applied directly to women and children in need, and is the most efficient way to provide help. I didn’t need to add that previously having worked for Unicef in Africa, in field emergencies in Sudan and Somalia, I could vouch for their effectiveness.

“It’s a tragedy,” I said, giving her a hug. “But one way or another we’re all going to be a part of sorting it out. And I don’t mind paying a few extra dollars for gas if it means we don’t give Mr. Putin the kind of help he needs to hurt innocent women and children in Ukraine. Let’s just hope people are wise enough not to let his friends, people like that orange haired loser of a former president, ever get anywhere near the reins of power ever again.”

With that I suggested Rainbow come upstairs and help me pick out a nice yellow and blue outfit to wear when I go out today. Perhaps you could do the same.

If you feel generous use the links above to send a few dollars to support people affected by the war in Ukraine. Send me a copy of your receipt and I will enroll you at no cost in our Whatsapp Group – a gift worth $10 a month. Just send me a copy of your receipt to fdobson@zoho.com

Have a lovely week.

Fiona

Let’s try to be accepting of others.

Ali has been here in Canada for several years now, having arrived as a refugee along with his lovely family from Syria. As I have mentioned before he was a botany professor in Damascus University prior to the war there, and is now my gardener. His knowledge of fauna and flora really is most extensive.

Arriving from a country such as Syria one does have to check some of the experiences and baggage that we bring, at the door – as it were. Jeff, who looks after immigration at our local airport, says that most immigrants are all too ready to let go of the past and look forward to their new life in Canada. And many, like Ali, bring some wonderful talents to our communities, regardless of what they may have done in the past. Like many of us, Ali does not talk much about his former life. I imagine it could be quite dark but have had few glimpses of what it may have entailed. It’s really none of my business.

Jeff takes great pride in telling me that he checks the passports of all immigrants arriving at the airport (other than when he’s on his lunch break or picking up his kids from school). He says that Canada accepts the poor, the disadvantaged and the impotent. He then rather sheepishly adds that unfortunately, while the poor and disadvantaged regularly show up, unfortunately the impotent couldn’t come.

Ali’s language skills, however, appear to still require some polish. As I sat drinking my morning tea in my kitchen Ali joined me and flicked through the local paper that had just been delivered.  I had just finished my daily yoga workout and was still in my pink leggings and powder blue sports bra, that’s so good for working out.

He took his tea black and was quite absorbed in the paper.

“It says here,” he said at length, ”that the city is going to have a ‘pilot racoon cull’.”

“It’s about time,” I said, knowing how mischievous the racoon population of Huckleberry Close can be. “They’re too clever by half.”

Ali frowned as he read the article.

“It’s just that you wouldn’t think they could do that,” he replied.

“What do you mean?” I said sensing something amiss.

Sipping his tea Ali continued reading without looking up and turned the page.  “You’d think they’d fail the eye test.  I did.”

I sometimes wonder about Ali and his command of English. It is, however, better than my command of his obscure dialect of Arabic. I’d given up my attempts to learn his language after failing to master such a simple phrase as “Is it safe to drink the water in this hospital?”

We all of us have our own particular perspective that brings a bit of ourselves to all we observe. As a crossdressing non-binary person, when I see a Zebra I do not take offence at the black and white nature of the creature. Ali, on the other hand, sees a majestic beast of the African plains while Sebastian sees a walking barcode. He then goes on to pretend to scan it in much the same way as the checkout girl in the corner store, and adds, “At least it’s easy to keep track of them.”

We all of us have our divergent ways of looking at things and each is equally correct. As trans people I think we have to learn acceptance of others with views that don’t align with our own. They, like us, are travelling their own journey. As people who are often misunderstood, it is up to us to try to understand others – the good, the bad and the ugly – with kindness and without judgement.

But that is not the main reason I’ve written to you this morning.  I’ve been adding new content to some of my programs.  They are now even better value than ever. Be sure to join if you’ve not done so already. I always do my very best for my lovely members.

😊

Fiona



Unhand that banana!

Hi,

 

Seldom, if ever, do I like to come between friends (calm down Amber, in Colorado). Yet this morning I came down the stairs having had a refreshing shower to find Sylvester shaking Sebastian vigorously by the neck. I leaped in, interposing myself (phrasing) between them, my colorful summer swing dress swishing about me.

“Calm down, boys!” I said, as I struggled to hold them apart.

“I will not calm down!” said Sylvester, still fuming. “He said he wants me in a three way!”

I glanced at Sebastian. I’d always had my suspicions. He glared at me, Sylvester’s grip loosening.

“Sylvester, I think you should put Sebastian down. He’s gone a funny color. Besides, you might enjoy…”

“I was trying to explain three way calling,” chimed in Sebastian, as the color came back to his face. “All I said was, “would you like to join Max and I in a three way?””

 

“Well, I think I see where the confusion’s crept in,” I said. “Perhaps Max and you could help Sebastian get a little more utility from his smart phone. You know, Sylvester, I’ve seen your messages that end with that quaint little expression, “Sent from a phone that’s smarter than I am.” I think in your case it might well be true.”

Thirty minutes later Sylvester was being watched by three of us marveling as he attempted to open a Soundcloud song that had been shared over Watsapp.

“It’s quite remarkable,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s like watching a monkey try to operate a type writer.”

“Come on, Sylvester. You’ve got 999,999 more tries to go! Given enough time,” said Sebastian very softly, “some people believe that enough monkeys would type the complete works of Shakespeare.”

You could almost feel the gears inside Sylvester’s head grinding. He frowned again, and prodded the file in the Watsapp window.

“999,998.” Said Sebastian softly.

Max moved toward the fruit bowl, so kindly made by one of my members, and reached for a banana.

“Don’t,” I said to Max reproachfully.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I thought I’d share a rather wonderful BBC article with you. In this piece about the people of Guna Yala, their unusual lifestyle is examined. As a child develops they are allowed to move toward a more male or female orientation. While this is still essentially binary in nature there is clearly a more equal approach to gender. There is also a greater choice in how the Guna present themselves. It’s a fascinating read and I hope you enjoy it.

Don’t forget our Premium Program is growing all the time.

Have a lovely week,

🙂

Fiona

Continue reading “Unhand that banana!”

Auntie Kittie’s Diary – What are Martin’s mummy and daddy doing up there?

Martin arrived this morning to help me with my shopping, he’s such a good little boy. He cycled over. I’ve been encouraging him to ride a little more since a taxi frightened him by blowing their horn as he cycled by recently.

He rang the bell of the pink bicycle he was riding in my yard and came rushing in.

“Auntie, you won’t believe what I have between my legs,” he said excitedly.

“Really?” I said a little surprised.

“Oh yes, Miranda said I could borrow her bicycle. It’s much bigger than mine and it’s fun to ride.”

“Of course it is, Martin,” I said, “and don’t let anyone ever tell you that size isn’t important.  I especially like the pink tassles and the unicorn motif.  How kind of your sister to let you have a go.”

“Miranda is the bomb,” he replied enthusiastically.

“The ‘bomb’,” I replied. “Is that good?”

“Oh, she’s the best! She let’s me use lots of her things.”

“I am sure she does, Martin,” I said gathering up a couple of bags to take shopping. “Help auntie with these bags, so we don’t have to use those nasty single use plastic bags in the store. We care about the environment, don’t we Martin.”

“Yes, auntie,” said Martin.

We climbed into the car and in a moment were off to get the groceries.  After a quick run round the shop to get some organic vegetables and a few tasty treats we came home in time to see Fiona and her personal trainer Sebastian going for a run.  They stopped outside my house in Huckleberry Close for a moment to catch their breath.

“Good morning, Martin,” said Fiona to my nephew. “How are your parents, I’ve not seen them for a while?”

“Oh they’re very busy this morning. They’ve been upstairs banging since I woke up,” came his innocent reply.

“Really,” I replied, noticing that Fiona was looking a little confused standing there in her little tennis skirt and trainers, her chest still heaving as she was a little out of breath.

“Oh yes, they’re putting together some new furniture from Ikea,” said the little scamp.

“Mummy’s very good at it,” he chimed in with enthusiasm, and continued “but that it’s sometimes better for Daddy to watch because his tool isn’t very big. She prefers to use her own equipment or get a man in, she says, but she likes Dad to watch. It’s just like you say, Auntie. Size really does matter!”

I glanced awkwardly at Fiona as Martin carried on.

“Mummy’s good with her hands.  Everyone says that. She’s very creative you know.”

I said, “I am sure she is. Now let’s hurry in and make some tea. Then we can get some oil and put it on that chain on your bicycle.”

“Mummy likes to put oil…”

“That’s enough, Martin.” I cut little Martin off and hurried him inside. One never knows what these little ones will say next. My nieces and nephews are such little scamps.

Have you been a good boy for Auntie? You can be a special star for me by going onto Fiona’s website and adding a comment on her new page, Member Experiences – where you can tell some of your own story.  Be sure to mention that Auntie sent you.

Be a good boy for your favorite auntie,

Auntie Kittie.




A fun competition. Figure out the link between the video below and Auntie’s Diary entry and I will give you free Good Gurl membership if you you’re not already a member. Email me on fdobson@zoho.com with your answer. The first 10 get free membership. FD.

I’ve been having a little trouble with my colon!

I’ve been having some dreadful trouble with my colon lately. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but ever since Max changed some of the settings on my computer keyboard I just keep getting a problem with it! I think he reset the layout to the French keyboard!

In the cold wintery weather we’re having I’m going to remind all my girls the importance of moisturizing your skin. Using a nice aloe cream helps, and you can find them at any pharmacy or health food store. It keeps you looking fresh and really helps your skin. You can also find some here.

I am busily chatting with a few of the suppliers who sometimes give some great discounts to my members. It’s always nice to nail down an agreement with a company that provides great clothes and makeup for my members. Be sure to check out my shopping list here.

I can see Ali working on my bush, in the garden – he’s saying something about that not being the only thing that going to get nailed. Ali’s English is very selectively intermittent.

Now, if you’re not already a member I suggest you do join up soon, whether you choose to as a Good Gurl, for just $1 a month, or one of the more extensive programs.

Oh, I have to go now… I can see Auntie Kittie heading up the drive, I’d better hide the sherry!

Have a lovely week and be sure to let me know how you’re getting on.

Ciao.

Fiona

Let’s talk colonic irrigation.

This afternoon I organised a delightful lunch to welcome Bernard, my photographer, back home. You will doubtless remember that he has had some health issues and was visiting the UK and staying at The Devil’s Dyke Health Spa.

It is unsurprising that following a tazering and being shot in the chest with a carrot, he should need extensive rehabilitation. However, the Devil’s Dyke facility, according to their internet profile, specialises in heart, digestive and gastrointestinal tract treatments, including extensive use of colonic irrigation. Ali, my gardener, informs me that this has nothing to do with the irrigation he is dutifully installing in my greenhouse, in expectation of a warm summer.

SylvesterSebastian and Bernard all joined me, as well as Amanda, who ‘popped in’ slipping past Hannibal and the security system. That woman is like a ninja. I should point out that she is an old schoolfriend of my wife, and often appears in the hopes of finding her. Unfortunately my wife is travelling at present, studying flora of the Limpopo.

Amanda was most upset. It turns out her therapist, who she’s been seeing twice a week for the last two years, committed suicide two days ago. This is not made easier by the fact that her previous therapist did the same thing some years ago. At the funeral, it turned out that Amanda was the only person attending, and likely his only client.

“But somehow I feel like it’s my fault,” she said tearfully.

“Nonsense,” I said. “It’s his job to talk you off the ledge, not the other way around.”

“But twice! That’s quite a coincidence, don’t’ you think?”

“Well, not really. I’m sure lots of therapists go that way,” I replied.

“Apparently he leaves a very extensive library of self help books.”

Returning to our lunch, Bernard enthused about his trip to the UK. As we sipped a light chardonnay he told us as much as one can about colonic irrigation at the dinner table. Sebastian asked about the exercise, and probed him about the diet.

Bernard had brought a couple of bottles of Devil’s Dyke bottled water, one of which Sylvester picked up and inspected.

“Devil’s Dyke Water,” he read from the label, holding is at arms length to be able to read it properly. His eyesight is not what it once was. “It say’s here, it’s a great tonic, and good for digestion and flatulence.”
Amanda seemed excited, and asked to see.

“I should try this,” said Sylvester enthusiastically with a laugh.

There was an awkward pause, and then Bernard said, “I think they mean it’s good for stopping flatulence, Sylvester.”

“Oh,” he replied, a little disappointed. “Why would…” and his voice tailed off.

However, that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. We now have a little more space in our Premium Feminization Program – and we’re adding some new tasks. So, there’s never been a better time to put your best foot forward and mince into our wonderful Premium Program and enjoy the fun and games we have to offer.

We’re enjoying a great deal of success with our Premium Feminization Program.  If you’re not already a member, then think about joining. I get email daily from my members telling me how much they love it. It’s only $10 a month and provides you with valuable training and exercises to help you get the most out of crossdressing. As a Premium Member you’ll find my emails help you progress and enjoy your crossdressing even more than you do today.  Sign up HERE.

Have a wonderful week.

😊

Fiona

 
BOGGIE : PARFÜM

Boggie is a hugely talented young lady. More than that, she’s a very brave one. This song is wonderfully written, but also bravely filmed in a manner that challenges the societal norm of beauty. Here’s a translation of the first verse.

Hundreds of perfumes, like daydreaming wildflowers
Sweet, bittersweet negligence now overpowers
Rose and oleander in their tiny glassware, shimmer me on
Myrrh and almond fragments in small portion balanced, lilacs and violas, in hidden small vials
Dripping them, spraying them, one by one testing them – that mist dazes me so.

I post this song from time to time to remind my friends and members that the image we see on TV is not the true rendering of the person. Boggie is courageous enough to demonstrate this with great honesty.  FD

 

Looking for that special gift for the dominant uber bitch in your life? What could possibly be better than this Sexy Leather Bodysuit Leotard? Nothing says “I want you to dress me up like a sissie and beat the heck out of me” quite like a faux leather leotard! Just $19.95.

I had to beat off a load of journalists!

The winter months are always fun in an advertising agency. Even more so for myself, as I have several skiing related accounts. It was this that brought me, Bernard my photographer and Sebastian, my personal trainer to the beautiful mountain village of Whistler in Beautiful British Columbia this week.

I found myself here partly to oversee the photography for a ski manufacturer’s latest high end products, and also for a resort client located in the Village. As part of the week’s activity I found myself skiing with a small group of journalists, all eager to test the manufacturers new products.

Before the main days skiing, I had the opportunity to brush up my skills a little with Bernard. There I was, in my tight ski suit, stretching and preparing.

In the comfort of my hotel room, Sebastian helped me refine my style and posture for fast downhill skiing. Sebastian can be very useful on a trip like this. You’d be surprised what he gets up to.

“That’s it,” he said, pressing his hand into the small of my back. “Lean forward and stick your bum out.”

“Now bend your legs, and flatten your back.”

I found the position strangely familiar.

“If you move your hips from side to side,” he said standing behind me, “you’ll find it feel even more fluid.” Sebastian seemed quite breathless.

“Yes,” I gasped feeling my body getting into the exercise. “It’s a very enjoyable sensation,” I said as I moved my body languidly back and forth.

Now, I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but all this stretching and preparation seemed to get Sebastian quite excited. I could swear he poked me in the back with his ski pole!

As it happened I did very well on the slopes. At the end of the week of skiing we had a race down the mountain from the peak, a very exciting informal race. I thought I might be beaten by a number of the boys, but as you might guess, try as they might – and through no small effort on my part –  I managed to beat them off and cross the finish line leading by a head.

After that it was up to the hot tub to watch the snow falling on the mountain in the twighlight.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing. I thought I’d send you a quick reminder that with Spring just around the corner it’s time to start looking for some new Spring colors. This year putting together easy combinations of colors in underwear, makeup and outwear should be every CD’s priority. When was the last time you matched your eyeshadow to your favorite lingerie? Well, todays a great day to start planning ahead.

Got any great Spring outfit ideas? Get on the website and share them!

🙂

Fiona

I need some new eyeshadow for my third eye!

Auntie Kittie’s niece Megan tells me her Auntie says she looks good in a kilt. What do you think?

“Push your bum back a bit,” said Sebastian, maneuvering behind me.

“Oh, Sebastian,” I said, perspiration dripping from my brow.

“That’s better,” he said pressing his hand into the small of my back.

As you probably know, Sebastian is my personal trainer. We often do yoga sessions together. Some of these yoga positions are really quite challenging. As we move into the cooler weather I do find I like to lift up the intensity of my exercise regime. And Sebastian is a treasure, I really do enjoy getting it up with him. My yoga is very important to me.

I also find that with the cooler weather I like to dress in suitably warmer clothes, and the opportunity to explore new styles is a source of great joy. I enjoy wearing a kilt, and know there are many other members, some who cannot overtly dress in femme clothing but can wear a kilt from time to time.  A kilt is a very good way to gradually introduce more androgynous clothing into your repertoire.

This week, as an exercise perhaps you can check out a few ideas for kilts online – here’s a start.

I also loved the tights below.  They have a nice tartan imprint. I do have some distant Scottish heritage and used to spend every Christmas on the Isle Of Skye. I even got lost in Dunvegan Castle once as a child. But one thing I do enjoy is watching the Highland Games events. I have always thought Bernard would be rather good at tossing the caber. I understand he comes from Essex, in England, which some of my English friends have told me is full of tossers.

Bernard tells me that it sometimes gets so cold in the north of Canada that there’s so many icicles hanging from his sporran that you’d think he brought along his own wind chimes. What a sight that must be.

Here in Canada we believe in an inclusive approach to life. This is exemplified by my good friend Justin, who – when he’s not busy running the country – is very happy to swing by and take a walk on the beach nearby. And I have to say, he doesn’t have bad legs. He’s asked me once or twice if I can spare Sebastian for a yoga class, but so far we’ve been a bit too busy and our schedules haven’t been quite aligned. Perhaps he’ll join us for a class here in Huckleberry Close as things slow down around Christmas. At least, he promised he would. We’ll see.

When not running the country Justin enjoys a little yoga, and wants to borrow Sebastian, my personal trainer.

As we approach Halloween I have a ghostly story coming out late this month which I think you might enjoy. You may want to keep an eye open for The Living Doll on http://FionaDobson.com . There’s also The Foreshore Light and The Apartment, for those of you who like the ghostly theme of Halloween, both of which are already available. If you’d like to hear Jules Sanderson reading The Foreshore Light you can do so here. Be sure to check them out when you have a moment. I think I’ve given you enough there to keep you up at night. It’s not often that you find ghostly stories suitable for crossdressers, but I do try to present a broad cross section of content for my lovely members. As ever, Clothes Maketh The Man, now with episode 50 out, is doing wonderfully. I do hope you’re enjoying it.

If you’re not already a member be sure to check out the membership options here – http://FionaDobson.com/my-programs

Have a lovely week,

😊

Fiona

Max is teabagging Sebastian in my basement!

I arrived home on Saturday morning to a house full of guests. Max, my next door neighbours 20 year old son, had let himself in as he often does these days, Sebastian had arrived early for my yoga session, and as I walked into the kitchen, there was Sylvester clutching a twelve incher in his hand.

“That looks very meaty,” I said as Sylvester stood there looking proud.

“You know how much I love a good sub,” replied Sylvester. “Salami, tomato, olives… this is twelve inches of perfection.

If I had a quarter for every time I’d heard that, I thought quietly to myself. Actually, I’d only have a dollar twenty five, but all the same…

I slipped into a light skirt and a tee shirt, to be ready for yoga, and then asked Sylvester if he’d like to join Sebastian and I on the yoga mats. I should say that it’s rather like watching a fridge try to do a downward dog, when Sylvester does yoga. The will is there, though.

“Where on earth are Max and Sebastian,” I asked Sylvester wondering if perhaps Max would be joining us on the yoha mats.

“Max is teabagging in the basement,” said Sylvester.

“Really,” I said a little surprised.

“Yes. I had no idea Max knew so much about tea. He’s showing Sebastian how to mix a few different tea types and make a few tea bags. He has some black tea, oil of bergamot, vanilla and all sorts of things.”

“Oh,” I said, somewhat relieved. “How creative. We should see if they want to do yoga with us.”

However, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I’m sure that you have experienced, the same as many of us, feelings of embarrassment following dressing. Well, you’ll be pleased to know you don’t need to. In the video below I have prepared a short hypnosis for you that will help relieve those feelings. Have a listen and see how you get along.

Have a great week, and remember – “Accept yourself as you are, and create yourself as you wish.”

🙂

Fiona

 
 

Sebastian and his ‘low hanging fruit’.

So tonight I’ll tell you about a rather unusual episode, that happened outside my house this morning. Sebastian turned up on his racing bicycle, looking rather sweaty in his spandex shorts and tight tee shirt.

As you probably know, I love cycling. I find it keeps me in shape, and gives me the perfect excuse to show off my legs, and it’s a great way to get about the city as the weather improves. It’s not unusual for Sebastian, my personal trainer, and I to get out on the bikes and rip round the local parks and cycle paths. It’s such a good work out. I always wear tight leggings that show off my legs, and a cute tee shirt.

For Sebastian, however, this is just a warm up. He likes to race and takes it all very seriously. Recently he’s regeared his cycle replaced the handlebars with a Kevlar lightweight pair. All this is very good, but as he babbled on, in my driveway, about how wonderful these modifications are, I couldn’t help noticing his spandex cycling shorts are a little tight.

“I’ve always found my get away a little slow,” he said.

“I see,” I replied, having no idea what he was on about.

“I always find I end up having to come from behind,” he went on.

“Oh,” I said, “I know exactly what you mean.”

He straddled his bike, and asked me to steady it, as he stood on the peddles, balancing and leaning over the handle bars, his bum almost in my face.

“With these modifications,” he said enthusiastically, “I’ll be able to sneak up from behind and take the low hanging fruit, even if I do have a slow start to a race. Then I can take the leaders from behind as I get further into the race.”

From where I was standing I thought Sebastian should be more concerned about his own low hanging fruit.

That, however is not the main reason I’m writing to you tonight. I thought I’d touch on a slightly more topical subject tonight. Below is a video from a performance by the great British comedian, Eddie Izzard. It touches on the subject of crossdressing and the army and a few other things you may find of interest.  Have a listen and see what you think.

I hope it lifts your spirits in these uncertain times.

😊

Fiona

Eddie Izzard: Army
Eddie talking about the army, transvestites, and the squirrel hole! Been there, done that!

Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube.

Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!
If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man

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Have you signed up yet for my Little Black Book? Far more than just a list of crossdressers, this is a great project for anyone wanting to chat, email and connect with new friends. Join the book, email some friends and then once a week come back and reach out to new members both far away and close to home. All for just $24.95 a year, If you’re not already in the book now’s a great time to sign up!
https://fionadobson.com/fionas-little-black-book/

You won’t believe what Sebastian is covered in!

You won’t believe what Sebastian is covered in!

Hi,

Sebastian, my personal trainer, was standing in my kitchen, looking distraught. It’s not a good look for a slim man in spandex. He’d cycled over to my place for a coffee.

“The stuff’s everywhere,” he moaned. “I can’t move in my apartment, there’s so much Jiz everywhere!”

“I’m sorry?” I said, adjusting the peach colored silk robe I was wearing. I had just waxed my legs and chest and the soft silk felt magnificent on my skin.

“It’s all over the place!” He went on.

“Sebastian,” I said, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“It’s the week of the Junior and Intermediate Zumba challenge. Everyone down at the gym enters.”

“Is that a ‘thing’?” I asked.

“I get to do the Jiz thing every year, and every year it’s a nightmare. I just get overwhelmed. And this year, honestly, I think I’ve taken as much as I can take. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew and I’m practically choking on it!”

“I believe the expression is ‘gagging’.” I added, helpfully.

“All the other personal trainers down at the gym leave it to me, and every year I just get sucked in!”

“I wonder why,” I said rhetorically.

“My whole place is covered in the stuff to arrange it, costumes, posters. I even had to design them myself.” Sebastian reached into his back pack and brought out a folded-up poster.

“Oh, Let me see it,” I said trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Yes, of course.  Your friend Amanda helped me with it.”

“Amanda is my wife’s friend,” I pointed out. Because she edits a trade publication, Pig And Pig Farmer, Amanda considers herself something of a media mogul. I think you’ll agree that’s a bit of a stretch.

Sebastian unfolded the poster. An image of two young dancers, breathlessly whirling across the floor filled the page, with the headline, “It’s Jiz Time! You’ll be glad you came.”

Sebastian looked at it thoughtfully. “They wouldn’t let me put it up at Starbucks. They got quite snotty about it.”

“I wonder why,” I said.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today.  It’s going to be spring soon, so it’s time to start getting ready with some new looks for Spring. I thought I’d make a couple of suggestions, to help you along.

Spring is a time to emphasise the soft pastels, using both cosmetics and clothes that lift and brighten their surroundings. This is a great time, if you don’t dress outside of the house, to bring some more feminine colors into your selection of clothes that you’d wear day to day.

If you wear glasses, think about getting a pair that are softer and more blended to your skin. Be prepared to experiment with your daily look, softening it with colors that convey gentle forms. Hard black frames may be better replaced with a softer color, for example.

As you color your life more gently, you may be surprised to find yourself feeling more gentle. You’re going to love that. You may well find that wearing pastels and muted colors contributes to a more gentle mood, and as you look the way you know you should, you start to feel the way you should, too.

I sincerely hope you are enjoying the news I share with you. You can participate and comment even more at http://FionaDobson.com

Have a great week,

🙂

Fiona