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The Reynolds Girls – I’d Rather Jack!

It has been called the worst record of the 1980’s, but I love it. In the late 80’s I was working on The Evening Standard as a photographer. On a slow news day we’d go and hang out outside the offices of a ‘hit factory’ production company – Stock Aitken and Waterman in London.

There were always interesting people going in and out of their offices, and often it would merit a quick photo, if nothing else was going on.

One afternoon I was hanging out on the pavement outside the offices, and the two girls came out. It was purely a chance encounter, and although I did know their single I didn’t know the girls at all.

As it happened I was lighting up a cigarette. At that time I regret to say we all smoked. Linda saw me, walked up to me and asked if I had a spare smoke. I gave her one and the three of us spent a while chatting in the sunshine.

The impression I got was that they were just having fun and not really interested in a music career, which was just as well as it was a one hit wonder. However, they really just seemed a couple of sweet young girls living the dream while it lasted.

Years later, in 2007, they did do a reunion video, below, in which they re-enacted the original dance. This time they were quite a bit older, but their fun attitude and presence comes right through. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

They seem to have disappeared from the public eye these days. However, I am always left feeling that if more performers had their attitude the business might be a lot more authentic. Linda and Aisling cared even less about what the critics said than I do. Their sense of fun seems to live on. Wherever they are I hope they’re still as joyful as they were thirty years ago.

🙂

Fiona

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Enjoy the Fiona Dobson playlist.

When I first started sending out the weekly messages I would often embed a music video. I don’t so often these days, as the messages are much more text heavy.

However, over the last few years the videos were very popular and were compiled into a playlist. It’s turned out to be a rather unusual and eclectic collection.

You may enjoy it.

Fiona

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Is that a carrot in your cycling shorts or are you just pleased to see me?

With the fine weather comes the chance to wear more exciting clothes. I love to get into a mini skirt in the summer. And equally the sun brings out the more eccentric dressing styles.

Not least among these are my friends that cycle. Seeing Sebastian cycling up the road to my quiet house in Huckleberry Close is both a curious and disturbing sight. While my bicycle has a very pretty wicker basket and I added a few pink tassels for style to the handlebars, Sebastian prefers a more sporty style. Crouched over the handle bars he looks like nothing so much as he’s being prepared for a very sporty mobile enema.

“You look so athletic,” I mentioned to Sebastian as he dismounted. “But where do you put your shopping?”

He looked a little disdainfully at me and then said, “I cycle for my body, not my shopping.”

I felt a little as though I had been put in my place, but replied, “Well, those pants look as though you pushed your vegetable order down them.”

I feel strangely liberated commenting on others clothing, as I glide across the grass wearing a bright lemon pleated skirt and pale blue tee shirt. I should try not to be unkind to Sebastian. And it has to be said that his vegetable order is nothing if not plentiful.

He shifted awkwardly as I chatted. But that does rather neatly bring the subject onto food and soon it will be time for the Huckleberry Close summer party. We usually each bring a dish, and everybody shares in the wide diversity of food often from our own cultures. This year I am preparing boerewors, a lovely South African sausage dish with Sebastian’s help. Now there really is a man who knows his way around a sausage. Auntie Kittie is making a lovely Pavlova, and so I asked Ali what he would be making.

“I was thinking of a Syrian soup, Shakriya. It’s lamb with yoghurt,” he said.

“That does sound delightful,” I said excited to try some new dishes.

“Is Sylvester bringing anything?” asked Ali.

“I think he’ll do what he usually does and bring a simple tart.”

“Oh,” replied Ali. “He’s met someone then?”

I do wonder about Ali. Sometimes I think he understands more English than he says.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you this week. I have posted some great content this week. As we move into our ‘post Patreon’ development I am moving content over to the website all the time. Mistress Meg, Max and even Auntie Kittie have been beavering away in my kitchen, posting and writing content to add to http://FionaDobson.com. For my Seahorses Mistress Meg has added some new content in the series about Stories Your Mother Never Told You, and of course I’ve posted some content for all my members about being outed to my children, and of course we now have all the released episodes of Clothes Maketh The Man posted up and available to all. You can get them here. And this weekend we posted The Long Game, a two part story that anyone who had a sister who dressed them will appreciate.

Have a delightful week. I know Mistress Meg will be posting some hypnosis files this week, so we have that to look forward to, and I think the next episode of Clothes Maketh The Man should land in the next few days.

😊

Fiona

http://FionaDobson.com

Join for just $1 a month.
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Yes, even a crossdressing account exec has to cross their ‘T’s’.

The work of a crossdressing advertising account executive is never done. On Friday night I was preparing to leave the office when my eyes fell upon the latest piece of creative from our graphics department.

Just as I was looking forward to a nice lager down at Trannie Annie’s bar I noticed the proof of the poster. It was all signed off and ready to be sent to the printers, when three words leapt off the page at me.

I caught my breath as I reread the text. It’s not often we’re asked to do poster campaigns these days and this one was for a prominent science author who was doing a book tour. Confidentiality prevents me from mentioning names here, however this particular individual is very recognizable, speaking with the aid of a computer synthesized voice, and with his career rolling forward apace.

I called the creative director immediately and caught him as he was stepping aboard a train on his evening commute home.

“Derek,” I said. “This poster,” and then he interrupted.

“Isn’t the image beautiful?” He gushed. “It’s from one of those radio telescopes.”

“Yes,” I replied. “The image is lovely.”

“He’s very excited about it all,” carried on the creative director. “The posters will go out on Monday, if the printers run it over the weekend.”

“Well,” I said calmly. “You might want to get off that train then.”

“But why,” said Derek.

“Asking people to come and meet the author of a book about the infinite universe is one thing, but then saying ‘come early as ‘space is limited’ seems just a little contradictory,” I replied.

Needless to say he was off the train moments later and making his way back to the office. I hope your weekend is going to be more fun than theirs.

In the meantime I have just put up a new page called ‘I nearly got caught!’. Feel free to add your comments to it and tell your own story.

🙂

Fiona

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The Grin And Bare It Nudist Colony.

I was relaxing in my garden this afternoon when I got a distraught call from Rainbow, Sebastian’s sister, asking to come round immediately. Of course, I said yes, always supportive of my friends. Besides, Sylvester had just left, having got my asphalt. He’s doing some work resurfacing the driveway.

“You’d better drop by, now I’ve got my asphalt,” I said down the phone.

Rainbow has just got back from a few days at what she calls a ‘retreat’. She does this once in a while, escaping to the Grin And Bare It Nudist Colony on a nearby island, in the southern Gulf Islands in British Columbia. It’s a rather strange sort of escape, involving naturists engaged in yoga and improv comedy. I suspect there’s a certain number of them that also become engaged in open sea swimming in an attempt to escape, or at least they would be if I found myself confined on an island in such circumstances.

One of the regulars at this particular location is a man who has turned to unusual street performance for his living.  Rainbow, who sometimes teaches yoga on the island, has been encouraging this gentleman, assuring him that street performance could be a great way to gain a small income for the rest of his life.

Continue reading “The Grin And Bare It Nudist Colony.”
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What are you doing in the back of your truck?

I was explaining to Sylvester, “Love is a mysterious and tender feeling, Sylvester.  It’s about giving, and sharing, and being sensitive to the person you’re doing it to in the back of your truck. You can’t judge others because of their romantic preferences.”

“Don’t try to tell me about love!” Said Sylvester.

“You sound like an eighties song,” I said and poured us both another cup of tea.

Sylvester was bemoaning one of his recent executive decisions. Running the local auto shop is quite demanding. Especially since he expanded into retailing tires. His most recent choice of new staff was proving more challenging than he had originally thought.

“When I hired him to manage the tire department he seemed so excited,” he said.

“I imagine he did. And how did it come to your attention that he was a rubber fetishist and something of a celebrity in the local swinger scene?”

“Lurch printed out some of his website. He left them on my desk.  Don’t ask me how Lurch found his site.”

“Oh!” I said. “That must have felt a bit ‘awkward’.”

Sylvester  looked at me sideways.

“Well, I don’t think it’s any of your business what he does in his spare time.”

I picked up one of the printed pages Sylvester had put on my kitchen table and studied it for a moment,  and then added, “And he appears to be rather good at it. Now, if he’s happy in there surrounded by rubber then that’s all to the good.”

Sylvester knew I was right.

“There, there, Sylvester,” I said to my crestfallen friend. “Take a lesson from the new guy and I’m sure you’ll bounce right back.”

At last, now that Sylvester had shut up I could tell him the gossip about Bernard’s weird brother, Kevin having an affair with his wife’s twin sister. Funny story, but that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you tonight.

I thought I might mention to you that, aside from my Good Gurls program ($4.99 a month) and my Premium Program ($14.99 a month) and all the other fun programs I offer, I am also pleased to be able to help my members by steering you toward gender counsellor Jules. This is specifically for people who are struggling with gender issues. You can read more about Jules here.

Have a delightful week, and stop by the site and you may find me chatting with members.

😊

Fiona

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It’s time to think about that Little Black number.

We all need it. And the underwear to go with it! Have you chosen your little black number yet?

Here’s a quick tip. Having exposed shoulders works well if you have a very feminine upper body. However, many of us will want to cover our shoulders and break up the shape of the upper body. Try something like the ones below for a comfortable and pleasant shape.

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Honestly, the people I surround myself with!

Honestly. I was saying just now to one or two of my friends online, I can hardly believe the people I surround myself with!

“I’m getting some work done,” I said to Sylvester, while I was making some lamb sosaties and turned my back on him and continued slicing the lamb. That was my first mistake.

“You know, round the back,” I said while reaching up on tip toes to get the curry powder from the top shelf.

I turned around to see Sylvester looking at my bum in a manner that can only be described as lascivious. Yes! Sylvester, a man who manages to combine having his head in the clouds with having his mind in the gutter!

“Round the back of the garden. So Ali can get the mower in more easily.” I said, by way of clarification. What a pervert!

Anyway, that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I’m doing a nice little addition to the site. Some of you know that by clicking on the tags at the end of the post to find other messages the people mentioned are in. I also usually hotlink the first instance of their name in the post, so you can see other places they’re mentioned in. So if you want to ‘stalk’ Amanda for instance, you could see other posts she’s mentioned in.  I love that anyone would check out Amanda. Yuk!   Well, I am writing up a profile of each of the main people mentioned in my posts, so you’ll be able to drill down even further and learn how Bernard caused a diplomatic incident before coming to Canada, or even get some of Rainbow’s kombucha recipes. So just go HERE to get a list of the profiles. I’ve got some up already, but I am working on them as I write this. It may take some time to get them all up.

You’ll be surprised at how much there is on the site once you start to drill down.  Have a lovely week!

😊

Fiona

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The pure gold of your hidden feminine self.

When you think of all the things you would like to change about yourself there is a tendency to focus on the aesthetic. Yet we know very well that this is the easy part. The greater achievement is to shift the way we think.

In accepting the female aspect of ourselves we will likely never have a completely feminine experience. We’re not going to experience the pain and joy of childbirth, for example. At least not anytime soon. We will also never experience the angst of the teenage girl developing, nor the uncertainty that many women experience in anticipation of a first date; something that could ending in a deep relationship, or possibly a shallow grave.

Continue reading “The pure gold of your hidden feminine self.”
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Merry Christmas!

Good morning, and a Merry Christmas! I am so pleased to have my members to share this chilly Christmas day with.  Many of us are not with family today because of Covid, and I am no exception. Here in Vancouver we are allowed just one other household with us this year, and I am fortunate enough to have Sebastian and his sister, Rainbow, over to enjoy the turkey I am just putting into the oven.

For those of you alone this Christmas remember there’s loads to keep you entertained on my site. You can find a lot of Christmas content HERE.

I was just mulling over the wines… No, that’s not what I mean. I was trying to decide which vintage to serve with the turkey, when the snow started falling in Huckleberry Close, as Sebastian and Rainbow appeared at my front door.

“I’m so pleased to see you,” I said as I took their snow speckled coats and ushered them into my kitchen.

“I won’t be going anywhere today,” I said looking out at the snow. “Besides my car has been giving me some trouble.”

“What on earth happened,” asked Sebastian as took the warm cup of cocoa I pressed into his hand.

“I stalled on the bridge,” I replied. “I got lucky though and a passing tow truck driver pulled me off.”

“Well, that does sound like a Christmas eve treat. Being pulled off by a tow truck driver,” said Sebastian.

“It’s not as much fun as you might think,” I responded. “My car’s at Sylvester’s. He’s hoping to get it back to me tomorrow.”

“Well, not to worry,” said Rainbow, placing a small gift on the kitchen table.

“Oh, Rainbow! I thought we weren’t doing gifts this year?” I replied looking at the carefully wrapped package.

“It’s just a  little something,” she replied.

I should point out that Rainbow and Sebastian have not had an easy time of it through Covid. Teaching yoga when people are not able to get together in groups is a tough situation for poor Rainbow and she even had to sell the gold watch she got from her grandfather on his deathbed. Apparently it wasn’t easy. He put up a hell of a fight.

Rainbow loves my tree. She helped me get it up.

Yesterday I took some treats down to the local SPCA Animal Rescue Centre.  I like to support them at this time of year. It’s shocking how many people still give pets as gifts and they show up at SPCA a few days after Christmas, so I like to support their work.  I take food for the animals and a few treats for the staff. They always seem to appreciate it. They are all so cramped I their tiny office, huddled around the coffee. You can hardly swing a cat in there.

I had better get this turkey in the oven.  I understand Sylvester may swing by in a little while. He can’t come in, with the guidelines we have in place, but that won’t stop him coming by and using my rear entrance and then having a glass of eggnog in the garden. It’s a little chilly, but… Oh – that’s not quite what I meant! ! I should consider myself lucky he’s not out somewhere hunting down a red nosed reindeer. Well, it’s is the season!

Have a lovely Christmas, and be sure to check out some of my programs if you’re not already in them. And try to remember, too many candy canes will make you sick. Being on antibiotics over New Year is no fun. You know what I’m saying. Oh, and by the way, Clothes Maketh The Man #51 will be out today.

Merry Christmas,

Fiona

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You won’t believe how fast a homeless person can run!

You won’t believe what happened to me on the way home the other night. Now I can’t even go to the local Whole Foods store!   I’ve just got back from a workshop for advertising executives, and I arrived home to find I’d run out of milk.

Julie, has been looking after Hannibal, my dachshund, and I knew he wanted a walk with me, so I took him along with me to the store. It was pretty late, and some of the staff were taking in the flower display from the street, where they always look so lovely.

As I was looking at them, and thinking how fresh they were, and how they’d freshen up my apartment, I thought I might buy some.  I turned my head at that moment to see Hannibal, my dachshund, peeing on the homeless guy who sometimes sits there.

He looked back, mortified, his legs wet, and a pool of pee spreading over his cardboard sign, which said – ‘I’ll accept anything.’

It’s absurd, but I couldn’t help thinking that was a rather open offer. I said I was sorry, reaching in my purse,  and found all I had was plastic, and a few peso coins. He wouldn’t take the plastic, and the pesos were no good to him.

I ended up making my apologies and leaving, hurrying inside the store. I felt awkward, though probably a little better than he did.  I must say it was a silly and embarrassing incident, but there it should have rested.

However, fate was not going to be so kind. The following day I had some friends arrive to stay.  They are Ukrainian and the wife, bless her, decided I should have borscht for my lunch and cooked some up.

This was clearly well intentioned, but not my favorite form of soup.  I’m more of a clam chowder person.

Either way, I dutifully took the borscht she’d made with me to the agency, when I left for work. It turned out we had a business lunch that day, and I didn’t get to eat her soup, which I am sure would have been delightful. Instead it remained in my bag, until I noticed it there on my way home. Thinking I would be a little devious, I decided to toss it out of the car window, and say to my guests how wonderful the soup was, and how grateful I was that she made it.

So, there in the very slow moving traffic I lowered my car window, and was about to pour it into the street, when the traffic came to a complete halt, and I found myself next to a particularly angry looking biker. I gave him a smile, but bikers and crossdressers don’t always mix well.

He looked back with disdain. I though I’d better not de-borscht myself in front of him. I gave him a cheeky smile and a week, and he scowled back at me. I lowered the passenger side window and tossed the borscht from it’s tupperware container.

That was when I heard a shout.  It seemed to come from beside the car. I leaned over to the passenger side of the car and looked out on the ground, and there at the foot of a parking meter was the homeless guy, covered in borscht.

He’d moved a few blocks down the street, but it was definitely him.  He turned his borscht covered head in my direction and then recognized me, and said ‘You!”. As the traffic moved on he scrambled to his feet, and started chasing after me in the slow-moving traffic. He was bundled up, but hurried along very quickly after me.  It was just a little frightening.

I raised the window, but it was quite surprising how quickly this poor fellow could move, sprinting beside the car and banging on the window.  All the while he was shouting and making a terrible fuss. Only when I caught the lights just right could I accelerate away fast enough to leave the fellow, with his flapping arms and wailing.  I felt terrible for him, of course, but what could I do?

I pressed my patent leather clad high heeled right foot down and left the poor chap in the rear view mirror. In a face-off between the V8 in my Buick and a homeless person, the Buick generally wins.

I puzzled over his turn of speed for a while till I got home. He really was very quick for a homeless guy.  Now, those of you who know me know that I am a kindly soul. Of course, I have my peccadillos, but I am generally a simple type. I feel no malice or unkindness to homeless people.

I was thinking this as I walked round my vehicle checking that it hadn’t been damaged by his banging on the window. That was when I noticed the glove caught on the door handle.

No wonder he’d been shouting so loudly as I accelerated away.

Oh, well. What can you do? I hope you’ve enjoyed this little story from the world of FionaDobson. Http://fionadobson.com
Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube.
I had a lovely email from Gunnar, from Iceland, yesterday. He had listened to one of my Youtube videos about identity and the importance of having a gurl name.

“I love your youtube videos. In one about female identity you say that its important to have a girl name for my girly side. I have always had problems coming up with a name that sticks. I ask you thus for help to find a girl name for me. “

Asking a girlfriend or emailing me for a suggestion, and telling me a little about yourself, is a good idea if you’re stuggling with this.  Identity is a very importaant part of crossdressing.  For many people the idea of dressing is a means to step into an alternative identity. A huge part of that is thinking what name reflects that identity.  Is she a gurly girl, a tomboy, or perhaps a very professional individual.

One great way to select a name is to type into Google, favorite baby names of (insert your year of birth). The result will list the top few male and female names.  Choose one of the top five. In many instances this will feel just right.

A name like ‘Candy’ may not suit that identity if it’s a person that is most at home in a Channel suit. Equally, ‘Olive’ or ‘Maud’ doesn’t much sound like a slutty vamp. Half the fun of dressing is creating the backstory of this character. If you want a fun exercise sit down one night and write her Resume, as though she were applying for a job.  As you develop the character you’ll find your ideas of who she really is clarify. There’s a reason why we say ‘Accept yourself as you are – create yourself as you wish.”

As you explore the idea of alternative identity, you may want to think about the various aspects of who ‘she’ really is. Is she playful, or studious? Does she take life seriously, or live on the wild side? Eventually you’ll realise that crossdressing permeates every aspect of who you really are.

🙂

Fiona
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Too soon?

What excitements this morning! I had a call from Sylvester, my mechanic, asking if he could possibly borrow Ali to help him.

“What on earth for?” I asked.

“I need some help fixing the church’s bus and all my staff are off this weekend.  You know that young pastor who’s organising the charity picnic this year? He’s the one Mistress Meg knows . Well, the bus has broken down and he needs it quickly so he can take the guests later today out to where they have the event. He really shouldn’t be driving that thing,” said Sylvester.

“Goodness,” I said. “I’m sure Ali would be happy to help. I’ll ask him to get down to your workshop as quick as his slipper-clad feet can carry him.  Are there many people going to this picnic?”

“The pastor has invited the sick, the needy and the impotent,” said Sylvester.

“Well, that’s quite a lot of people,” I replied.

“I understand the sick and the needy will be there, but the impotent couldn’t come.”

“What a shame,” I said.

And so by late morning I was walking down to Sylvester’s workshop laden with some lunch for the boys. I’d made a nice pie and some sandwiches. As I entered the workshop I could see Sylvester half lost beneath the bonnet, but no sign of Ali. The bus was jacked up with one wheel off and part of the exhaust system on the work bench.

“Hello… I’ve brought you lunch.  Is Ali about,” I asked.

“He’s under the back of the bus working on the suspension,” replied Sylvester. “He’s in the wheel well.”

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous,” I said feeling quite concerned.

“Oh no, he’s fine. The bus is jacked up properly,” insisted Sylvester.

“Goodness me, you wouldn’t want him to hurt himself. He might fall out?” I continued.

At that very moment Auntie Kittie arrived at the workshop, brandishing a bottle of wine.

“Too soon?” She asked holding out the wine bottle.

“It’s never too soon to open the wine,” I replied.

As you can imagine, once the bus was nicely fixed we all enjoyed a glass of wine and the offerings I’d brought. Needless to say the pastor got his bus and all went well.

But that isn’t the main reason I’m writing to you.  I thought I’d just remind you that if you haven’t already joined my Good Gurls, just $1 a month gives you some wonderful offerings from Auntie Kittie, and myself. Be sure to sign up if you’ve not done so already.

Have a lovely week.

😊

Fiona

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The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 9.

Part 9.

I sat in my office just yesterday going through the messages I receive from members. There was yet another one asking how a member should talk to their wife about dressing. As I worked through the message it became evident that my member had decided one day to tell his wife all about it.

“I couldn’t hide it any longer,” they wrote. “So I told her about the dressing and that I’d been dating several men. It devastated her.”

I shook my head in sadness. Of course it broke the poor woman’s heart.

I wrote back to my member saying that whilst what is done is done, he might want to limit just how much truth he delivers in one sitting.

The conversation did raise a very interesting point though.  To accept a husbands crossdressing is a massive challenge, but to do so and learn that there had been an affair – or multiple affairs – surely that would be too much for any marriage to withstand.

I decided that in the quest to retain marital harmony it might be wiser to limit just how much truth one reveals at a time.  I personally do not feel that crossdressing need be tied directly to dating men. Of course it’s highly exciting, and dressing does make one feel euphoric, but this should probably not be mistaken for a great state to make sexual decisions one is going to regret later. Better to spend the energy gradually persuading a partner to accept it.

I will talk about polyamory in another series, however the kernel of truth does remain; no wife wants to be told you’ve had an affair with either a man or a woman after the fact. Discovering such news can hardly be expected to yield a positive result, nor will it pave the way to it being ok to slip into your wife’s panties.

So, at this point in the journey to help the wife understand a need to crossdress, I think it very wise to consider just how much one is going to reveal when one does.

For the moment, building up to the point at which one does reveal all it’s obviously prudent to limit the amount of truth one is going to impart. Let’s just say, we’re going to give her what she can handle.

So, clad in kilt and ready to share a little more, I decided it was time for my wife and I to have a little chat.