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Poor Rainbow! I can’t think what got into her last night.

Rainbow sat clutching her gentle brow at my kitchen table, pale and effete as ever. That girl could well be a vampire.

“No, Rainbow. I don’t think anyone rufied your kombucha,” I said.  “I think you drank half a bottle of gin on your own. And that’s what it does.”

“But, my head,” she moaned.

Sylvester shifted awkwardly. Like most men, the delivery of unearned sympathy is something he struggles with. Instead he sensibly kept his mouth shut.

“You need a nice cleanse,” I said as I fried an egg in a heavy iron frying pan. “A sauna, perhaps and then a seaweed wrap.”

“Sushi?” she said, turning a little green.

“No, a seaweed wrap, where they wrap your body into the healing energy of seaweed. It’s lovely. I had one with Sebastian last week at the spa.”

“You realise I am basically an unemployed student?” retorted Rainbow.

“Well, I’m just saying, with all that yoga and healthy living…” I adopted my most forgiving manner.

“Are you saying I can’t go out and drink till I can’t feel my face from time to time?” she replied.

Rainbow seemed to be a little tense, as well as being in the midst of a severe hangover.

“Where on earth were you?” asked Sylvester.

“Some of the girls from the yoga studio and I went out to celebrate at Trannie Annies,” replied Rainbow.

“They don’t let me in that place anymore,” grumbled Sylvester.

“Shut up, Sylvester,” I said. “May I ask what you were celebrating last night, Rainbow. And, I mean, darling… was it really worth it?” I asked in an attempt to mollify her.

There was a long sigh, and then as I handed a high electrolyte orange drink to Rainbow she shared her latest news.

“and then … Yadayadayada, so now I realise I’m poly,” she concluded.

I stared at her.

I pride myself in being a crossdresser of taste and style, even if I do hang around with coarse oafs like Sylvester from time to time, but this was shocking news to me.

“Really,” I said stifling my bewildered emotions. “You’re into polyester?”

I couldn’t sanction such perversion.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Sylvester. “It means she’s got a thing for parrots.”

“You two are the limit,” said the poor suffering girl as I placed a perfectly fried egg on wholegrain toast before her.

“Really, Rainbow, darling, I can prepare a nice cleanse for you. An elixir of dandelion root, sage, kayle and Labrador tea leaves. I think of it as a very healthy cleanse.”

Sylvester piped up, “Sort of an ‘ethnic cleanse’. You’ll feel like an entirely new person. I always say “When you feel like the bottoms fallen out of your world, Fiona can make a cleanse that will make the world fall out of…”

“Sylvester, belt up!” I interjected.

Sylvester really can be quite coarse you know. I sometimes wonder why I let him in. Still he does like to come and join me for breakfast after driving the Zamboni to prepare the ice for our hockey players for their early morning practice.

Now, I’m sure you know this, but if you want to drill down and learn more about some of my people you’ll see that the first mention of them is generally highlighted and a hot link. Through the wonders of technology, if you click on that you’ll get a list of all the stories in which they feature. So you can drill down on any of the people and get more of their story. After 7 years of writing you’ll find the well is indeed quite deep. It can keep you uselessly employed for hours!

Have a wonderful day.

🙂

Fiona

PS. I recently rebuilt my Patreon presence. They’d kicked me off before but have let me back now on the condition that I keep my panties pulled up. If you’re enjoying these messages be sure to join me at any level on Patreon to build up my presence there. I include some fun content there. I am always grateful to my members. xxx

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When teachers teach by bad example.

Mid Vermont Christian School (MVCS)

In a recent CNN report Mid Vermont Christian school took a distinctly unchristian perspective on sport by refusing to play against a team with a trans student on the team.

If you wish you can read about the story here – https://www.cnn.com/…/vermont-basketball…/index.html

While this kind of discrimination is both unchristian and indefensible one shouldn’t allow one’s anger to cloud vision. We are trans, and we are not reactionary. As such we should use the existing avenues of reporting to overcome these hurdles. It would be wrong not to work through the processes of registering our complaint. I will detail the process below to help, if you want a little help to take a stand on this issue.

Read more: When teachers teach by bad example. Continue reading “When teachers teach by bad example.”
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Sylvester enjoys a good pounding.

Sylvester, my mechanic, enjoys a good pounding now and then.  Don’t we all? And that’s precisely what was happening the other day as I entered his workshop.

“What on earth are you doing?” I said, as I watched him sitting on a stool, beating a piece of metal on an anvil.

“It’s called..” bang, bang, “contouring.”

The heavy blows were shaping the metal and shaking the entire workshop. He held the glowing metal with tongs as he worked on it with the hammer.

“Well, that’s not how I do it,” I replied.

“Contouring the piece,” he said as he continued bashing the hot metal with a heavy hammer. Once satisfied with the shape he dipped it in a pail of water and it gave a satisfying hiss, steam rising as it did so.

This did, however, remind me to post something for so many of my members who are struggling with make up advice.  I often steer clear of this, as there are so many wonderful sites giving great make up tutorials. Most of these are run by women who have been excelling at this since they were 7 or 8 years old, and I realise they are much more accomplished than I. However, I do feel that so m any of my members need a little guidance, I try to select the best ones to reproduce here.

Contouring is also of special interest to my gurls.  Most of us have facial shapes that are quite masculine. However, with the correct contouring we can refine the shape considerably. As my friends who are drag queens have demonstrated many times, good contouring completely changes the way people see your face. In a busy club drag queens, like high heeled feathered galleons sail across the dance floor and we’re naturally in awe of their appearances, their faces sculpted like Greek goodesses. Knowing something of these techniques is a valuable skill. While many of us will never come close to attaining the skill levels some of these performers have reached, we can do our best to improve our makeup skills, nonetheless.

Have a good look at the video above.  I’m sure you’ll learn something valuable. Hopefully this version of contouring your face will have more positive results than using Sylvester’s.

😊

Fiona

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Do you know your eyeliner from your lip liner?

Do you know your eyeliner from your lip liner?

When you first grab your lip liner and use it as an eyebrow pencil you are doing nothing more than most 11 year old girls have been doing for the last forty years. Many of my members experience feelings of disappointment and failure the first time they get up close and personal with make up. As a result they feel disappointed and often quite upset.

Let’s let that go right away. Here’s why. Most people who crossdress attempt to emulate beautiful women, in most cases who have been using makeup with their little girlfriends from the age of 11, or thereabouts. When a middle aged man attempts to look like a 20 year old woman for the first time he is likely to meet a level of technical resistance. In fact, he’s likely to make a dogs dinner of the process. 

It takes years to get it just right. It’s possible to make a reasonable job of it quite quickly, if one practices regularly. In fact, using a few Youtube tutorials you may get quite good at it before long. One of my best friends daughters has helped me tremendously, as you can understand my friends are very accepting of me.

Like everything worthwhile, make up takes time and practice. It’s something that’s a lot of fun to do, and so practice can be thoroughly enjoyable. I like to focus on one particular aspect a week. I may spend one week just on eye shadow, and another on lips, and then move to working on eyeliner or eyebrows. Either way, expect to take a while at it, and don’t worry if it’s not right first time. You are going to have fun working at it, but don’t set your expectations to high at first. 

The other thing to keep in mind is that a man in late middle age is unlikely to pull off looking like a 21 year old whore. Yes, it’s true. You might get to look like a middle aged whore, or better still with a little practice, a sophisticated middle aged woman, but don’t get disheartened chasing the unattainable. Having a good idea of what you are trying to achieve is a good plan. Again, don’t expect immediate success. It’s ok to take your time. Enjoy the process, and you will get there.
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Think of this as a good example of how not to do your make up. Generally it takes a little more time, and should be somewhat more enjoyable.
To put a little further clarity on the subject watch the amazing video below of Boogie, a remarkably brave singer, who had the courage to illustrate how very different the image her video audience has of her, and the reality of her looks is. I believe it takes a great deal of bravery to own the fact that you are not quite the person the public is sold. The reason I include her here is to demonstrate how the media create  a version of femininity that is in many instances unattainable, even for very attractive women. It’s hardly surprising we have the high rates of eating disorders in society that we do.
Boggie is a very talented Hungarian singer, and her song illustrates how what we see may not be the reality of the individual. For those interested, her song is a powerful statement about the value individuality and of the self over the brands we are sold.
For someone crossdressing it’s important to realise that perfection may be a goal that cannot be achieved. That said, beauty is not. There’s a subtle but very important difference there.

I hope you progress toward it and find it without too much pain.

🙂

Fiona
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The magnificence of dreams.

I stepped out of the warm stream of the shower knowing Sebastian and Sylvester were downstairs waiting for me in the breakfast room. After pulling on some panties, a robe and my pink fluffy slippers I hurried down the stairs.

Sebastian and Sylvester were at the table. I’d completed a particularly rigorous dawn yoga session with Sebastian. If my hips were any more open you could have driven a train up there. As luck would have it Sylvester had offered to make us breakfast. While usually a coarse oaf, Sylvester has the capacity to be quite sweet at times.

As I glided into the kitchen Sylvester was serving up a delightful grilled breakfast, the sausages sizzling fresh off the skillet. A good start to the day is a lot easier with a breakfast like this. And breakfast is really the most important meal of the day. The bacon was glistening with flavor and the tomatoes came from Ali’s own garden. Quite lovely.

“It’s the damndest thing,” I said staring at the plate.

Sylvester looked at my plate and said “what’s wrong with it?”

“No, not the food. It’s just I had the weirdest dream last night.”

Sebastian asked, “What did you dream?”

I closed my eyes and tried to remember how it all went.

“There were a few of us downtown. And there was this guy who had died.”

“Who was he?” asked Sylvester.

“I don’t know. It’s not important. Just some stiff,” I replied.

“Anyway they wouldn’t let him in the graveyard because the church said they didn’t have room. But everyone knew it was because he was queer. So, there was this drag queen. She was lovely. Let’s call her ‘Carlotta’.., and I. And we stole the body and buried her up in the church yard anyway.”

“You know they don’t let you do that,” said Sylvester.

“It was a dream,” I protested. “And we went up there and buried this guy. And then we did other stuff. Loads of stuff… And I had this lovely long velvet riding dress,  like in that English serial.  And Carlotta had these sequins on her pants and a gold cowboy hat and these huge guns with pearl inlays and a smoked blue gunmetal finish. A pair of 44s. Matching nails. Did I say we were on horses?”

“I know all about Carlotta’s 44s. How many of you were there,” asked Sylvester, a canny look in his eye.

“I believe it was seven. Seven trannies and drag queens. And one was bald. I’m not quite sure what her deal was. Yes, that sounds about right. You have no idea how much glitter that is.” I replied.

“Yes, you just dreamed The Magnificent Seven. That’s one of the best movies ever made,” said Sylvester.

“I thought it was a fantasy about masculinity and white privilege wrapped up in a self righteous superior message, all avoiding the whole gun thing, and how it’s a penis substitute and actually they’d all rather be playing with their wieners. Except Yul Brynner. No, If he was coming after me with that huge weapon of his. Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be running away all that fast.” I replied. “Can you imagine,” I said my thoughts drifting off. “…falling, and Yul leaning over you and reaching down and pulling you to your feet, and grabbing a great handful of ass and ripping….” My voice tailed off.  Sometimes I do forget not to speak my thoughts.

I continued, “But, yes, still one of the best movies ever made.”

Bringing a note of levity to the conversation Sebastian chimed in, “They’re all gone now…”

And what a time it would be to have a magnificent seven. With trans rights, and democracy itself on the ropes, we see so many hard won advances in decline. Things will turn around again soon. And in the meantime I think we have to support our trans sisters, regardless of what stage they are at, wherever we find them. Remember, you’re not alone. There are many of us here.

Enjoy the video clip below.

😊

Fiona

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From Brianna Ghey’s vigil.

Ellen M said a few words at Brianna’s vigil in Newcastle, in the UK. Her words are wise, powerful and moving. If you’re as upset as I am about this, then don’t be backwards in coming forward and supporting Trans youth with BE: Trans Support. Here’s a transcript of her words. If you’re on Mastodon you can follow her at EllenM@samarcand@lgbtqia.space

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Tonight I spoke at the Newcastle vigil for #BriannaGhey as a spokesperson for Be:Trans Support. It was emotional and there was an excellent turnout of both trans people and cis allies. There were some excellent speeches from a wide variety of people – some angry and political, others talking about their feelings. I spoke to some people who were around the same age as Brianna and it filled my heart with joy to see such kind, caring and loving young people. It really gives me hope for the future.
This is what I said:

The death of Brianna Ghey has struck to the very heart of the trans community in the UK. From all reports, she was a strong young woman, who was loved and supported by a family proud of her transness. She was caring and loving to those around her, helping other young trans people with their transition even while fighting for her own right to live her life.

We are upset. We are scared. We are angry. Feelings which are legitimate and understandable.

That it appears that she was killed by two of her contemporaries carries its own horror. It is said that children are our hope for the future but that cannot be taken for granted. Cycles of bigotry fuel themselves – but so does love.

What we need now is to channel our fear and anger into positivity. Let it make us stronger and tell those who oppose us, those who belittle us and those who would legislate us out of existence that they will never stop us.

We need to follow Brianna’s example and reach out to others, to come together and care for and support each other. To take the anger, loss, confusion and fear we feel now and turn it into fuel for the engine of love.

What I would like you to do now is to turn to a stranger next to you and – with their consent – hug them and then tell them that you love them and you stand with them.

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I’m getting off.

I had just got off the phone with Sylvester. I called him because, being a quarter Italian, I thought he’d be able to tell me which was better, the Heinz ravioli or the Chef Boyardee one.

Really, it’s so easy to yank some people’s chain. Don’t worry, I only do it because I love him!

It’s all that, “Mamma used to make pasta by hand,” and “It’s not real cheese if it’s not from Italy.”

Honestly, they think they are the only people who know anything about culinary expertise. Why, I was making a lemming meringue pie just this week, but it fell of the table. Make of that what you will.

All that said I can’t deny that the Italians really do know how to seduce you through your mouth. The sensuality of linguine and the rugged honesty of meat balls, I mean really. What kind of pervert do you have to be not to love that?

All of which has nothing to do with the real reason I’m writing to you.  Part 61 of Clothes Maketh The Man is out. So many people have been waiting with baited breath to see what disaster is about to befall poor Andy next. All I can tell you is, ‘you really wouldn’t want to be Andy!’.

Have a lovely week.

🙂

Fiona.

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Part 61 of Clothes Maketh The Man is out!

I stood outside the library, holding the silver serving tray, the heels making my feet ache. The maid’s uniform exposed my legs to all who came and went in the lobby, though the passing foot traffic really didn’t seem to notice.

I wondered how such a sight would go down among those friends of mine who I’d not seen now in months. What would people think had happened to me. Had I just faded away as so many people in America seem to have done so over these recent years. Did I simply cease to exist one day? 

Read on…

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You are my Valentine.

What a wonderful day to remember our lovers and our past lovers. On a lovely day like this such thoughts are top of mind.

I have always taken a keen interest in medical and biological research. For example, when in 2010 UCLA researchers announced that they had proof that Neanderthals mated with homo sapiens it came as no surprise to me. But then it wouldn’t. As anyone who has met Sylvester, my mechanic, would realise, the evidence has always been there right before our eyes. 

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing today. It’s Valentine’s Day, and the time we celebrate our relationships. Max, my neighbors son, attempted to deliver a Valentine card secretly, but was picked up on my security cameras. He has no idea I know it was from him. Poor boy is only a breath over twenty years old. I’ll probably have some fun with that.

Sadly my wife is travelling at present. However, although I may have to battle the sadness of solitude and isolation, I wouldn’t want my members to suffer. With this in mind you might be interested in checking out My Little Black Book. It’s a pretty cool system, in which you contact three people a day until you build up a network of crossdressing friends and admirers. Anyway, you can read all about it here. It’s one of the benefits in my Unicorn Tier on Patreon, though you can by it as a stand alone product for as little as $2.95 if you wish.

So, sign up for My Little Black Book today and you can be sure you’ll not die alone, as Sylvester put it. Quite a few members have formed long and meaningful relationships in My Little Black Book. If you’d like to connect with other crossdressers it’s a great way to do so.

Have a lovely Valentine’s Day.

😊

Fiona 

– http://FionaDobson.com

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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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Let’s help Sylvester get it up.

As you likely know, I am a very busy gurl.  I like to involve myself in so many activities and hobbies, from pitching a tent to kite flying – I do love to get it up in a high wind – to support all my athletic friends, of course.

Recently my friend Sylvester was bemoaning the fact I am so busy.

“I have so much on,” I said. “So many appointments.”

“But surely you could drop them, just for me.” That’s not the first time I’ve heard that line spill from his lips, I assure you.

Sylvester is being a little insistent as he wants me to be one of his supporters in the up coming local Highland Games and Scottish Festival. I am unsure if you’ve heard of this, but I will explain it to you. A number of events such as the Caber Toss and Hammer Throw are offered and competitors test their skills. Sylvester has done quite well over the years.

He’s been asking me to come down and help polish his caber up for practice a number of times recently. As I work away at the great shaft, polishing for all I am worth I often find myself humming the little song of the highlands my grandmother used to sing.

“Come where the hands are clapping
Come where the toes are tapping
Come where the jocks are strapping
Down in the glen.

Land of inclement weather
Land of the prickly heather
So keep your knees together
Scotland the brave!”

Well, I thought, if I’m going to support Sylvester in his highland fling I have to find something suitable to wear.  My first thought was a kilt, but as every gurl knows, you just can’t show up in something that everyone else is wearing. That’s when I turned to my friends at The Drag Queen Closet. I have to tell you about them, because they are so good at what they do. Firstly, their clothes are properly sized. I know that when I order the XL size it will fit me like a glove – and I don’t mean a floppy old gardening glove. I mean a sheer perfect latex sleeve that fits perfectly. Second I know it will be delivered discretely and swiftly. And finally, it will be a good quality Item I can be proud to be seen in.

Find it HERE.

Naturally they had exactly what I was looking for. So much more fun than a simple kilt, a little steampunky and at the same time elegant. The quality of this type of garment is far greater than you generally expect of CD clothes. I know it will last and I can feel good about wearing this lovely design. When it arrived a few days ago I was thrilled and I have struggled not to wear it every time I go out, because it’s meant to be a surprise for Sylvester when he’s at the competition. After all I want him to do his very best tossing his caber and get a high score.  Being there to be supportive and get it up – among the leaders – will mean the world to him.

You should seriously think about using The Drag Queen Closet for your supplies, and sooner or later you’ll be getting it up too!

Have a wonderful week,

Fiona

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