Being non-binary isn’t just about gender.

I think it fair to say that one of my favorite occupations after I run screaming from my office at the end of the week, is to relax and settle down for a quiet weekend on the water. This is the time when, after the gnashing of teeth and sobbing generally has subsided that I can put my feet up, watch one or two friends trying to look masculine and impressive, and lament the absence of my wife, still unaccountably travelling in Europe.

If there was a week that would drive one to a gnashing of teeth, and generally pulling one’s hair out in frustration, it was indeed the week that has just ended.  On the whole my clients at the advertising agency are a sweet and very receptive group of people. They accept my somewhat unusual approach to life, in exchange for some very sound advertising and marketing guidance for which I am grateful as it does provide me with a satisfactory income. Having said that, I despair at some of the clients. 

Continue reading “Being non-binary isn’t just about gender.”

A little something extra.

I realise I may be out of step with some of my members when I say this, and this is really just my own opinion, but I do feel quite comfortable limiting some of my social interactions as we go through the whole Corona thing.  I’ve taken the opportunity to trim out some of the less positive people in my life, and do more of the things I enjoy.

It’s a little bit like having the opportunity to fine tune one’s life a little. Reducing the negative people in my life, and engaging in the things I enjoy has become something of a goal. Sadly, Sylvester is having a more difficult time of it, being so outgoing and social.

Sylvester, for example, throws enjoyable parties, though sometimes they really do get quite out of hand. On one evening last year he had a rather unusual night during which one of his friends decided they were intent on cornering me and plying me with drink, in the hopes that they might do unspeakable, but delightful things to my body.

Continue reading “A little something extra.”

OK, boomer.

As I was saying to Sylvester just the other day, to have another language is to possess another soul.  The reason I say this is quite simple. For those of us older than millennials, we are in the process of learning a new language.

No longer can we talk about chairmen, manning the ship, or even manhandling the sails. Today we have chairpersons, we staff the ship and we manage the sails. The way we speak has rightly come to a point that change is not merely become a desirable goal; failure to change identifies us as dinosaurs.  As uncomfortable as that sentence makes me, I realise it is true.

The term ‘OK, boomer’ comes to mind. It encapsulates tolerance of a dinosaur that grazes idly in the village, but that everyone realises is going to die out sooner or later, leaving the world a better place for their eventual departure. So society changes.

Continue reading “OK, boomer.”

My hand on your flies.

My good friend Sylvester was looking very concerned.

“I really think I ought to get my junk out,” he said, sounding very distracted.

“Well,” I replied. “If you must!”

We were standing around a table in the greenhouse, in my garden. The smell of ripening tomatoes filled the summer evening air.  On the table was a neat little pine box, containing some beautiful lures which Sylvester has made, as he is such a keen fisherman.

I inspected his flies, and i must say it did make me think I should keep my hand in. You may not think this to look at me, but I really do love outdoor sports, including hunting and fishing. I find the gentle rhythm of fly fishing very calming. Helping Sylvester sort out his fly fishing lures, and discarding those that are damaged or ineffective, is a periodic task I help my friend with.

That however is not the main reason I am writing tonight. I wanted to thank the many readers who have messaged me and commented on the series I put out recently about women who love to feminize their partners. In answer to the many requests, yes there will be further episodes added. In the meantime, feel free to use this link to enjoy the episodes that are already posted.

I shall be writing before the end of the weekend. Now, let me help Sylvester sort out his flies. I’m sure he’ll appreciate my attention.

Fiona

Sylvester is checking out Amanda’s cans.

What a strange day it’s turning out to be. Our members are all out doing wonderful things. Julia in Holland, one of my favorite members in our Whatsapp Group, has been out and bought some beautiful summery things, and nearby I know Lenni is having a garage sale.

Julia has been doing so well. She, like many of my members in the Whatsapp Group, shares some of her experiences and activities with other members of the group. It makes it a very supportive community.

This afternoon a few friends will be stopping by as the isolation period begins to lift. Lockdown here in Canada has been well observed and the results mean we are now able to begin very gradually restarting 2020. I, like most of my friends, feel that having a glass of wine in the garden with one or two friends is much more comfortable than going out to a restaurant, for the time being at least. It also gives us the chance to have a bit of a barbecue in the garden. Sebastian is hoping to treat us to his sausage later on. I am wearing a denim skirt, tee shirt and a lovely floral mask, and keeping things very simple.

Sylvester and Sebastian arrived a little while ago astride his enormous chopper.

Taking off his helmet he said excitedly, “Amanda’s going to drop by later. She wants me to check out her cans.”

“I’m sorry?” I replied a little surprised.

“Her headphones,” he said. “She says they crackle. She wants me to see if I can sort them out. It’s probably just a loose connection. They were very expensive apparently. Mind you that was in 1993. Still, I said I’d check them out.”

“Oh,” I said doubtfully. “I see.”

I have told Sylvester on more than one occasion that Amanda is in a relationship with my neighbour, Marjory the competitive lesbian eater. Or should that be ‘the competitive eating lesbian’. Well, as I’ve mentioned before Marjory is apparently quite a big noise in the world of competitive eating, although like so many sporting disciplines they are experiencing something of a famine this season.

“You should be a little careful,” I said to Sylvester. “Marjory and Amanda are together, as inexplicable as it may be. I’m not sure that you should be hunting in that particular briar patch. You might get pricked.”

“I don’t mean to be pedantic,” said Sebastian cutting in. “But, I’m not sure you can hunt in a brier patch.”

In the interests of contextual accuracy I rephrased my doubts to Sylvester, saying “I’m really not sure you want that bird in your hand. Better to leave it in the bush.”

Sebastian mumbled something about Sylvester having big hands and added that there are plenty more fish in the bush. I decided I should let it slip past. Instead I shot them both a look of disapproval.

“OK,” I said. “Let’s try this again. I don’t think, Sylvester, that you should have your snout in that particular trough.”

I think I may have to go in a moment. Sebastian has just got a call on his cell and let everyone know that Rainbow will be dropping by shortly and wants to show us her jugs.

“She’s only just got them out of the kiln,” he said helpfully. “She want’s to show us her pottery. It’s come on so well recently.”

Have a delightful weekend and if you’re one of my American members have the very best of Independence Days. To all my members, keep it real and stay distanced and masked if you can. 

Fiona

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Unmasking the truth.

Like everything else, we can address the question of masks with style, kindness and our own values.

While sitting in my garden, enjoying watching Ali bent over working on some of the flowerbeds, I was surprised to see Sylvester (my mechanic) arrive and use my rear entrance (phrasing) sitting astride his enormous chopper.

He’s spent much of his time polishing up his chopper recently, but then haven’t we all? This lockdown can be a little tedious, can’t it? Sylvester does enjoy riding his Harley and keeping it pristine.

Maintaining social distancing he joined me in the garden and we sat and talked. He looked quite agitated. It takes a lot to phase Sylvester. Naturally, in my role as both friend and counselor I felt I should help.

“It’s Amanda.  What am I supposed to do about her?”

“Euthanasia?” I asked helpfully, adjusting the way my sun dress hung from my shoulders.

“Please,” he insisted, “try to be helpful!”

“What seems to be the problem, Sylvester?” I asked.

“Well,  I asked her if she’d like to come for a ride on my chopper,” continued Sylvester.

“But Sylvester, Amanda is with Marjory now,” I said.

“I know. But sometimes I like to take people on my bike. It’s fun.”

“Well,” I said, “I suppose it’s fairly harmless. Even though I understand you’ve ‘checked her fluids’ on more than one occasion.”

Continue reading “Unmasking the truth.”

I don’t want to have to beat off any aliens.

I’ve found a good way to maintain social distance and still be able to communicate with Sylvester and the various welcome, and less welcome, visitors to my house.  I sit at the kitchen window and chat through the window, while they sit outside with their own coffee mug.

I am not paranoid, but we’re learning to live with social distancing in a responsible way here in Canada. We respect the rules around isolation, because we’d like to get things back on track at the soonest reasonable opportunity. I know people’s views on this vary. This video accurately shows how easy it is to pass on a virus, and we take it very seriously here.

“I’d like to get out to a pub,” said Sylvester. “A glass of Alexander Keith’s IPA, with beads of condensation on a warm spring evening would go down pretty well.”

Continue reading “I don’t want to have to beat off any aliens.”

COVID19 Crossdressing News.

I looked at Sylvester skeptically, my arms folded and leaned back against the stove in my kitchen.

“Really, a quarantine reserve?” I said.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Just enough food and supplies so that you don’t need to go out, should you feel sick. I mean, spreading this thing around the place hardly seems to be living  up to your civic responsibility.”

“Is it really necessary,” I asked. “I was planning to spend tomorrow morning at the nail spa.”

“Probably not.  Hopefully not. But perhaps. And if it is, then you’ll be a lot more comfortable with it than without it. It’s not urgent, but you may want to have a few things to hand.”

“I can imagine you’d have 200 cans of baked beans in yours.”

“That’s not fair,” protested Sylvester.

“Your flatulence isn’t fair,” I responded. “Besides, I think I’d rather die of flu than be gassed to death.”

“Besides, it only has to last a couple of weeks. By then you’ll be better. Or dead.”

“So you have 14 cans of beans, then?”

“And other products.”

“Well, if you get sick you be sure to come over here. I make excellent chicken soup. And bloody mary’s. And I have a good reserve to see us through, if Auntie Kittie hasn’t drunk it all. But you may have a point. If one does get sick, going out for supplies might be a little bit of a drag. I shall put a list together of things to get in.”

I took a pad of paper and started noting essentials. My list started:

Quarantine List for CORVID19 survival.

Foundation (I don’t like to look too pale).

Eyeliner (If you have to take a selfie and put it on social media when you are sick, it’s nicer if your eyes really pop).

Blush (it’s always good to have a little color in your cheeks).

Influenza safe lingerie (Be sure to be buried in this if things don’t go so well – crossdressed to eternity).

Pink N19 face mask (which probably doesn’t work but goes well with that nice polo neck I got on Amazon last week).

Sylvester interrupted me with a hurt look on his face, and said “I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously.”

“Quite the contrary. I have already set aside a very healthy reserve. I’ve also stocked up on hand sanitizer, cancelled a flight I don’t really have to take, and I am expecting to work a lot more from home in the future. So, I think I am very well prepared.”

At that point Sebastian and his sister, Rainbow arrived for our evening ‘wine and yoga’ class.

As I pulled on my leggings in my bedroom I asked Rainbow, who was also changing, what she thought about it all, and immediately regretted it.

“Well, I don’t think canned food is a good idea.  Everyone knows canned food is not as good as fresh, and probably has evil spirits in it. I’ve always found pineapple helps me if I have flu. That and some kombucha. I do have some crystals though.”

While a lemon might be perfect if this particular illness were more closely related to scurvy, I thought I might hold off on Rainbow’s advice. Scurvy is not something we see a lot of in Canada.

“So, you don’t go with Sylvester’s baked beans only remedy?”

“If we don’t get gassed to death he’ll blow us up when Sebastian sparks up a joint. I’m not sure which is the worse way to die!” she replied thoughtfully.

On a more serious note, here’s a great website for suggestions of what to gather should you feel the need – https://www.businessinsider.com/expert-how-to-stockpile-healthy-food-14-day-coronavirus-quarantine-2020-2

There’s a lot of spurious information floating around. It’s smart to be prepared, but not to panic. Probably the most valuable tool at present is a bar of soap for thorough hand washing. But if you do end up sick, be sure to have just the right night wear to hand if you end up quarantined for weeks. And with that, I’m off to buy some new nighties.

Got some suggestions for your Quarantine List for CORVID19 survival kit? Be sure to add them to the comments below.

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

Christmas Wishes and the Can Pipes.

Some of you will remember that my mechanic, Sylvester, is a bit of an inventor. His last invention, the Boner, did ok and was technologically sound, but (ironically) never achieved the market penetration he’d hoped.

This morning I was startled to awake to a strange haunting sound coming from the direction of Sylvester’s workshop. At first I thought that the city was testing it’s Early Warning System, originally used to forewarn of a nuclear attack, but now consigned to warn of any of Donald Trumps family infiltrating Canada. I was however mistaken. The sound would come and go, like a ghostly melody drifting across a post apocalyptic landscape, or Detroit. Several residents of Huckleberry Close were congregating outside their houses looking worried, until the sounds faded away.

Continue reading “Christmas Wishes and the Can Pipes.”

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 the 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

A bit of luck and a nice package!

When I got an urgent call this morning asking me to stand in as Master of Ceremonies for a charity event, I was caught short completely. It was really quite tragic, their own MC having met with an unusual accident involving a hamster, a length of pipe and a lighter.  I’m told they should be out of hospital in a week or so, though the hamster was less fortunate. The situation was made doubly dramatic as I had just sent several of my favorite dresses to the dry cleaners as I have a string of events to attend in the coming weeks, and I had nothing to wear. However, as luck would have it I received a delivery when I got to work directly from my friends at Glamour Boutique.

What a stroke of fortune, a beautiful purple lace sleeve dress delivered in their usual discrete packaging.  Now, there’s a number of excellent reasons you should buy from a supplier like Glamour Boutique, rather than off the shelf.  I will go into that shortly, but first, let me tell you exactly how this evening played out.

I called Sylvester who, while he does look like a gorilla that has been strategically shaved when he wears a suit, can be quite fun at these events. He agreed to join me at home at Huckleberry Close and we would then go on from there.

He pulled into my drive right behind me as I arrived home from work, and then waited in the living room as I hurried upstairs to change. As I did so I called down, saying “You’ll have to give me a moment to slip into something.”

I pulled on some fishnets, slipped into a pair of patent leather black heels, and then stepped into the dress. A moment spent on make up, and then I descended the stairs.  Sylvester was gawping at me as I walked into the hallway.

I turned and inspected myself in the full length mirror, Sylvester looming behind me like a great henge.

I watched his reflection as I adjusted my hair, and saw how his gaze fell to my behind, framed nicely by the cut of this particular dress.

“Yes,” he muttered. “Slipping into that seems a good idea…”

“Sylvester,” I said sharply and he averted his gaze.  He really can be most coarse at times.

Moments later we were off to the event, Sylvester driving and I feeling quite excited. A new dress always makes me feel coquettish. Particularly this one. The lace sleeves are so perfect for crossdressers, as they hide a multitude of sins, such as unsightly arm hair. Additionally, the cut of this particular dress is perfect for so many of us. The Empire waist really is a good choice for those of us in the gender fluid space. Most of us don’t have a very pronounced waist, but this style really does lend us a little more shape.

I’ve said before that buying from a company like Glamour Boutique is a good idea. These dresses are synthetic and almost impossible to crease. This is important to me as there are times I have to fling something in a bag without much preparation, and I may not be able to hang it as precisely as a silk or cotton dress might need. Wearing creased clothing is always awkward and a sign of very poor taste. This comfortably sized synthetic dress fits easily to the curves of my body, while still giving a little in those areas I need it to. The fabric has enough stretch to work for a male body shape, and for those of us who occasionally like to add a few body form accessories.  After all, don’t we all have moments where adding a little extra presence to our bust measurement can be done to good effect?

Well made crossdressing dresses will work with or without such accessories, and stretch to accommodate either option. This is why I generally go with clothing from Glamour Boutique, rather than from local stores. I know I will get clothes specifically chosen to be good for a crossdresser, rather than something that might look great in the store but really doesn’t work so well in front of the mirror at home while Sylvester stares at my ass.

And on the subject of my ass, I have to tell you I love this empire waist.  It’s not usually my first choice of dress shape, but it really does work well. Coupled with a high heel the effect is to give just the right flare to the dress, as my ass is slightly exaggerated by the cut of the dress combined with a nice heel. The effect is a dress that has a nice swing to it, looks smooth and well fitted and is really comfortable to wear. So, you can see, I was pretty happy to get to the event, stand up in front of the crowd and enjoy a moment in the spotlight looking great.

I know you will have the same sense of satisfaction if you get in touch with my friends at Glamour Boutique.  Be sure to tell them I sent you.

Fiona

Shove it in my trunk!

“Shove that shaft in my trunk,” I said to Sylvester, who’d asked me to give him a ride home after work.

He’s a wonderful mechanic, always with a tool in his hand. But I digress. I felt I would write and tell you about the wonderful things we’ve got planned for Mexico.

So many of my members struggle to find a way to dress discretely and safely. I am thrilled to be offering the escape to Mexico we have planned for January.

I hear so many stories of members unable to dress and relax. Many of my members are not comfortable going out of the house dressed. Others fear they may not pass as well as they’d like.  Now, imagine a situation where you could dress. You could ask someone for some help and advice. You could even learn about make up, and enjoy a night out without the worry of someone bumping into you. That sounds like a pretty good day.

Well, our team at the Fiona Dobson Crossdressing Conference can help you do exactly that – but for four days and in the spectacular Miramar Hotel in Puerto Vallarta. Join us on this escape and take that giant step that every crossdresser wants. This trip will help you feel confident crossdressing. In unpressured and non judgemental surroundings enjoy the feeling of wearing what you wish, and doing what you want.

You’ll be with a small group of people, likely just like you, in a private setting.  If you’ve ever had to hide your dressing, this retreat will be relaxing and rejuvenating. Get more information HERE.

By the way, if you’ve never read it, you may enjoy my ongoing series Clothes Maketh The Man. It’s in it’s 37th episode at present.

Have a great week.

Fiona

Crossdressing – Do I have to be submissive?

I was asked a curious question by a member this week. I’d just got back from a dance class with Sylvester, my mechanic.  Admittedly going to a dance class with Sylvester is a little like taking a gorilla for tea with the Queen, but it is nothing if not entertaining.

“If I am a crossdresser, does that mean I have to be submissive?” wrote my member in an email.

“What do you think,” I asked Sylvester.

Continue reading “Crossdressing – Do I have to be submissive?”

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 1.

Introduction.

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss is a series of episodes taking a hilarious look at how one crossdresser brought his wife to a place of understanding and acceptance. It’s also instructive and full of good advice to those of us who wish to introduce our dressing to the principal relationship in our life. I hope you enjoy it. Fiona

Part 1.

I sat in the garden enjoying the cool spring breeze. Sylvester crossed the lawn carrying a tray of tea and ginger biscuits.

“I’ve just had yet another experience with one of my members that leaves me feeling quite sad,” I said as Sylvester’s ham like fist gripped my delicate tea pot and poured.

“What was that, then?” he asked.

“Well, I had this chat with another member who just felt he couldn’t talk to his wife about crossdressing. I mean, really, it’s awful. So many of my lovely gurls are out there and barely even able to talk to anyone.”

“But that’s what you’re here for,” said Sylvester.

“Well, yes,” I replied. “But there are certain things that a wife can do that even I may struggle to!”

Continue reading “The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 1.”