As you may know, my personal trainer, Sebastian, has a delightful sister named Rainbow. The west coast has many people named by well intentioned hippy parents, that have grown up to be very unlike their free wheeling parents.
While Rainbow is decidedly whimsical and likely in line with what her parents expected, not all my acquaintances are so well named. For example, Rainbow is a yoga teacher and perfectly qualified, being both gluten free and lactose intolerant. However, another friend of mine was blessed with the name ‘Swallow’ by her parents. If the swallow really is the bird of love, then one would hardly expect a corrections officer working in a high security prison to carry such a name and yet that is indeed where she has had a quite successful career.
A healthy diet is essential for a great crossdressing look.
As the new year rolls into action I have been working with
Sebastian, my personal trainer, to tone and shape my body. He is a very helpful
young man, I must say.
I am determined that this year I will eat more healthily and reduce my carbon footprint in 2025. Perhaps a few less flights, and a few more vegetables are in order. Don’t you think it is important to enjoy a healthy amount of fresh fruit in your diet?
Last night it was a delightful surprise to be invited to a cocktail party held by a friend of Sebastian’s sister, Rainbow. While Rainbow is a certified carrot crunching yoga hippie, some of her yoga clients are quite unusual people. It was pleasant to be invited to one of their parties at a very exclusive address and I was interested to see how it would work out. After all, it can be exhausting having parties with Sylvester, Ali and Amanda, that often disintegrate into mayhem and occasionally someone being tied up and abandoned naked in a public park at 3 am. I suppose this is what you get for associating with people who need to have their back shaved periodically – and that’s just Amanda. How nice it would be to meet some people of quality.
By the time I had got dressed and ready I must say I really
did look quite spectacular, if a little overdressed. Nonetheless, it’s nice to
go over the top now and then.
Sebastian and I arrived and were shown into the ornate house
and met by Carina (there’s always a Carina), Rainbow’s client. She swept up to
us looking spectacular in her little black cocktail number. She carried a tray loaded down with hors
d’oeuvre.
Sebastian introduced us and our hostess beamed an expensive
smile.
“Would you like a clam? Or perhaps a cocktail sausage?” she
asked. “Oh, and which pronoun do you prefer, he, she or them?”
The tiny woman was almost vibrating with energy. I sensed
she’d been doing a few too many yoga classes. She would likely benefit from a
nice cleansing turkey enema.
I looked at Carina quizzically, trying to decide whether she
was joking, and to see if her choice of hors d’oevre was somehow connected with
the pronouns question. At that moment Rainbow appeared, and gave her brother a
hug.
“Hey,” said Sebastian smiling at her. “You look…”
Sebastian was searching for words.
Carina chimed in cheerfully, “Earthy! That’s what I said!
Rainbow you look so very ‘earthy’. I wish I was so brave,” she added.
Rainbow looked confused and replied, “Brave?”
“Yes, I mean I would never have been so brave as to make my
own clothes. And wear them out,” said Carina. “Fiona, would you like a drink? I
have a couple of special cocktails. Perhaps you’d like the carrot and Kale with
a shot of vodka. Or maybe the Orange and langoustine gin. You should try them.
I invented them myself.”
“Well, I am trying to eat and drink in a healthy way for the
new year. Perhaps the orange and langoustine
gin.” I glanced around the room at the very fashionable set of guests. The
ratio of chins to people was definitely on the low side. “And you’d better make
it a double. But do me a favor and hold the orange.” I paused a moment and then
said, “and the langoustines.”
Sebastian slipped off in search of a proper drink and headed
toward what looked like a bar, followed by Carina.
As she hurried off, Rainbow turned to me looking confused and
said, “Did she just say my clothes are worn out? I think I’ve been insulted,
but I’m not sure.”
“Oh,” I said, “You’ve been insulted. But I wouldn’t worry
about it. Let’s drink the silly cow’s gin and go and get some poutine at The
Junction. They’ve got a show on at 10.”
Sebastian reappeared at that moment and said that Carina’s husband,
Nigel (it had to be), had offered him the most disgusting cocktail he’d ever tasted.
“It’s one part gin, one part coca cola and a teaspoon of
olive oil. He calls it an Exxon Valdez. I had it on the rocks, but it was so
disgusting I spilled it into that aquarium.”
Across the room there was a very expensive looking aquarium
that was looking a little the worse for having an Exxon Valdez poured into it.
Carina returned with our drinks and then went on to
circulate with some of the many other guests.
“I think it’s time to bounce,” I said to Sebastian and
Rainbow. Let’s go somewhere everyone knows our names.
I hope you’re getting the new year off to a wonderful start. If you’ve not already singed up to my Patreon please join me at https://www.patreon.com/fionadobsonCD
Can you imagine, Sylvester, my resident Neanderthal, still has a home phone. Sebastian was curious about this, thinking it an upgrade to a cell phone, being chained to the wall so no one would steal it. I had to explain that this is what people had in their caves before cell phones.
In some ways Sylvester is a throwback to an earlier time. Perhaps this snippet of conversation will help you understand. We were chatting while I was moisturizing and pulling on some yoga pants in preparation of Sebastian coming over to do a yoga class with me this very morning.
“Look at this rain,” he said looking out of my bedroom window. “I want to go to Spain!”
“How lovely! Such a magical country,” I replied as I applied the coconut oil to my face.
“Where’s the best travel agent?” he asked.
“Do we still have those,” I said.
“There must be one somewhere,” he insisted.
“Perhaps you should look online,” I suggested. “I think there’s one in the main street though, just beside the dog groomers, which reminds me, I should get Hannibal’s toes done.”
“The place next to the Korean take away?” he chimed in.
“Yes, the other side of that new spa place. You know, the one with the fish that chew your feet. I don’t really get that whole thing myself, but apparently it’s good.”
“I know the place,” said Sylvester. “By the sushi restaurant.”
Conversations with Sylvester are never simple.
“Why particularly do you want to go to Spain,” I asked.
“Oh, they have this amazing event in Pamplona in July. They have all these bulls and they let them out in the street,” he said. “Lots of people take part.”
“I think I’ve heard of it,” I cut in.
“Yes, I’ve always wanted to participate in the catching of the bulls,” said Sylvester.
I thought I’d better end the conversation there. Sebastian was just arriving. I pulled on a loose fitting tee shirt and told Sylvester to run along while I let Sebastian stretch me.
As you may know I am transitioning more of my content onto Patreon. If you feel like supporting me as we move toward Christmas you can do so for as little as $1 a month by using ‘my back door’ on Patreon.
“This knob is very stiff,” I said to Sylvester, as I relaxed in the seat.
Oh, I should explain, he’s been installing a new sound system in my car.
“I can loosen it a little,” said Sylvester, “but you don’t want it so loose that someone ends up jerking it off. You wouldn’t want that.”
“Speak for yourself,” I replied.
However, that’s not the reason I’m writing to you. Mildred, from Colorado Springs writes:
“Fiona, I’d like to be reminded of you every morning when I have my first cup of coffee of the day. And I’d also like to discretely show my support for trans people and those of us that are of a gender non-conforming bent. What can you do to help?
Love from Mildred, Colorado Springs.
PS. Why do I get so much mail that starts out “Dear Sir or Madam’? Is there something I should know?”
OK. One thing at a time.
Yes, of course I have something to help you first thing in the morning. And a discrete way to show your support to all our members and friends. I was in a conversation with Sebastian about this just yesterday. I can see him in my minds eye right now, sitting on my right hand after we’d finished yoga, while I enjoyed a soothing cup of Earl Grey Tea.
“Those nice boys and girls at Patreon can help you. They can make a cup and give it to any member who joins as a Unicorn and stays on for three months,” he told me while pulling his yoga pants back on.
“That’s a curiously random piece of information to have,” I replied.
It’s true, though. If you join my Patreon as a Unicorn after three months you will receive this lovely mug, complete with the image here. This will be recognizable to anyone interested in gender issues, though won’t really mean much to anyone else. I’m told it’s really a good idea. It is also a great conversation starter.
Keep in in this is my first venture into the world of ‘Merch’. It all sounds so very sordid. Anyway, Max will oversee the tech side of it. He’s recovered from the last flogging he had. I think that was for something to do with us being kicked off Tumblr. Again! Either way I will see it’s done well.
So, pound my button as hard as you can and sign up as a Unicorn Member and in three months you’ll get a cool cup to help you enjoy me every morning. Wait. That’s not what I meant.
I was talking to Sylvester this very morning. He said to me, “How is it that anyone who was alive in the eighties and nineties- people who listened to our music – could possibly vote for that stinking pile of orange crap?”
“I assume you are talking about Mr. Trump,” I said. “And I’ll thank you not to use that language in my kitchen.”
“Really, though!” He said. “How can this election be this close? People who lived through Boy George, The Thompson Twins and David Bowie… How can they betray the things we all believed in?”
“Sylvester, calm down,” I suggested. “In any given population you are going to get a certain number of people who are either misinformed, selfish or monumentally stupid. People who don’t understand how to use Google to check facts. They’re what we call in Canada, ‘Morons’. We will see exactly how many there are in the US in a few days.”
“You can usually tell them apart from normal people,” I continued. “They refuse to consider any opinion but their own, often buy into ideas that keep them at the bottom of the social pile, and are too uneducated to realise that what they think is commitment is actually ignorance. They fear women, they fear immigrants and they fear people who don’t subscribe to their brand of idiocy. They also often think that their gun is a solution.”
As you likely know Pig And Pig Farmer was one of the first publications to endorse Donald Trump in 2016. Even Amanda, who edits this venerable publication has refused to endorse the foul pile of orange crap this year.
She just can’t bring herself to vote for a person who sexually abuses women, pushing policies that will damage so many people, and only enrich the wealthy few. While Trans healthcare is not her foremost concern, as a mother she can’t in good conscience vote for a person who is denying so many women the right to autonomy over their body. She knows that if one of her daughters needs an abortion, she doesn’t want to have to argue the point with a politician or a law enforcement officer.
“Amanda,” I said as we chatted on the phone while I organised a few things in my office, “most of the things they blame on Biden are nothing to do with him. I assure you this isn’t the first time the middle east has had a war, and while they blame Biden for the immigration situation, I guarantee you that’s something that’s been developing over decades. They’ll take these issues and try and manipulate you into thinking they’re all the fault of the person in power. As for that Afghanistan mess, Trump created the whole thing by being an inexperienced and naïve commander in chief. The truth is, neither of them are great, but Trump comes with a whole fascist agenda – and that’s what our parents fought a war to overcome.”
I then had to ring off as I told her I had to assign a few jobs to the team her and hand jobs out in the board room. I really do think her hearing is going.
“Hand jobs out in the boardroom?” she replied.
“Don’t worry, Amanda,” I said. “Things will work out if everyone keeps their heads.”
Sebastian stopped by during the morning, too. As you know, his sister is named Rainbow. What you might not know is that she’s named after the Greenpeace ship, Rainbow Warrior. As you can imagine she was raised with values around the environment that are dear to my own heart. Here in beautiful British Columbia we live by the words, leave only footprints behind. To be fair, my footprints are usually with a very pronounced four inch heel – but looking after the environment is very dear to my heart. It’s a small thing, but I don’t want my children living on a burned out cinder of a planet. And talk of ‘drill baby, drill’ turns my stomach. If you can imagine a dinosaur looking up at the sky and saying, ‘Gee, isn’t that a great looking asteroid heading our way! Let’s try and get a closer look!’, then you can imagine the way I feel about pushing carbon fuels further than absolutely necessary.
Personally, it’s the trans persecution that is the hardest of many lines that have been crossed. I know of many trans people who are feeling frightened by the possibility of losing health care. If he gets in, that’s practically guaranteed to end. Any thought that RFK has any knowledge or understanding of modern healthcare is beyond comprehension. That Trump would give that antivaxxer any say in health matters defies understanding – yet no more so than injecting bleach to overcome Covid.
Only someone who fails to understand how tariffs work could ever suggest the idea of bringing in tariffs in a country that imports so many of its consumer goods. The tariffs will come straight out of American pockets and trigger one of the worst recessions the US has ever seen.
And let’s be honest here. He’s going to be dead long before his mess gets cleaned up. He’s an old crock who is making his last play before he dies a lonely failed little man. Most people stupid enough to vote for that will have to live with the results longer than he will. Unfortunately, if he gets in, so will the rest of the US. For those of us who are trans, the consequences will be far reaching. Fortunately, Canada will always provide a home to people persecuted in their home countries.
As for making America great again, if Trump is elected the US will become the laughing stock of the world. Except that if you’re trans, it’s not going to be very funny. Anyone voting for Trump is no friend of the Transgender movement, and they’re no friend of mine.
Many of us are worried. Of course, it’s a worrying time. However, we will get through this. I’m online much of the time over the next few days. Visit the website if you need to, and look for the chat system if you need to talk. I will make m yself as available as I can. We’re going to be ok.
Have a voting plan, take a friend and bring whatever you need in case you need to wait in line. Make it count.
Sebastian was almost gagging.“That’s it,” I said. “Take it all in…”
“I can’t,” he stammered, resisting.
“You’re going to swallow, all of it,” I insisted. “Open wide.”
Let me explain, Sebastian has been suffering from a bit of a cold lately and is having trouble getting over it. I decided a nice Kale-Ginger smoothie would give him a little help.
Sebastian doesn’t like either kale or ginger. As he reluctantly gulped it down, I told him what a good boy he was.
“Shall I get you a towel?” I asked noticing a little of the creamy liquid on his chin.
As you know, I am very mindful of the health of my friends. However, that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. Today I wanted to draw your attention to something I found interesting and feel sure you’ll share my enthusiasm for.
When we dress, feminine or otherwise, we are saying a great deal about who we are. Our entire presentation to the world is reflected in our clothing. The way we offer ourselves to the world has a huge impact on how accepting the world is of us, as crossdressers or simply individuals. In the talk below Jen Rozenbaum explores some of these ideas, and talks about boudoir photography.
Some of her tips are very interesting, especially if you’re creating great CD pics for your profile online. One of her points is about how, as a photographer she finds ways to bring out the positive aspects of her subjects. There’s a lot to be said for the idea that whatever we choose to wear, we can bring out the very best side of ourselves by presenting ourselves in a positive and empowered way.
I would suggest we can take this a step further. For example, if you feel you’re a different person to the one you were three years ago, then why are you wearing the same clothes? Why are you not presenting yourself to your world (CD or otherwise) in a new more developed manner?
While I wouldn’t suggest we should trash all our clothes every year, there’s a lot to be said for the idea of giving serious consideration to the way we present ourselves as we grow and discover ourselves. Personally, I know I dress with more confidence today than when I first guiltily played with my cousin’s panties.
So, here’s a fun thing to do this weekend. Take a look at your wardrobe (femme or otherwise) and select a few things that no longer reflect who you are and toss them out. Refining your wardrobe is liberating and leaves space for some new expressions of who you are becoming.
Fiona
Boudoir Photography and Being Shamelessly Feminine | Jen Rozenbaum |
Just imagine, a crossdressing ghost story for Halloween. Yes, it’s coming – in three parts. It will be published on http://FionaDobson.com on the evenings of 29, 30th, and 31st of October.Halloween is a great time for crossdressers. The night when the dead walk the earth seems an odd thing to celebrate, but any excuse to get out in heels works for me! Enjoy the three part series and be sure to watch out for it at FionaDobson.Com.
Need costume supplies for Halloween? Try checking out my shopping list and looking at some of the great online deals there.
Now that summer is marching down the garden path toward my back gate and fall is introducing herself at the front door I turn to ideas about putting together a new wardrobe. I was pondering this, and putting a few thoughts together just this morning. As I did so Sebastian came into my kitchen looking quite disturbed.
As you know, I like to think of myself as a caring soul, a sort of Florence Nightingale in yoga pants. Sacrifice and humility are my two middle names. Yes, that seems a very fitting description. I applied a little lipstick and asked Sebastian to share his deepest concerns with me.
“My sister, Rainbow, has taken off,” he said, sounding quite disturbed.
Sylvester came into my kitchen this morning with a smug look on his face and asked me, “Is your refrigerator running?”
I sighed and thought to myself, ‘ok, Sylvester’s learned a joke. I better let him do it.’
“I believe it is,” I said glancing at the fridge in an exaggerated manner.
“Good, because if it is, I’ll vote for it,” Sylvester then collapsed in a quivering mass of his own laughter. I sipped my coffee patiently until this display of idiocy was over.
“What is this, a Democratic Party ‘in joke’?” I asked.
Sylvester was still quivering. It was unusual to see Sylvester laughing at a joke that didn’t involve panties, coming in the back way or pulling someone’s finger. You know, Sylvester really can be quite coarse at times. Is there a small chance he could be evolving from his Neanderthal roots?
But that’s not the main reason I am writing today, and don’t worry, it’s not going to be an email soaked in political hyperbole. I know some of my members don’t like that. So instead, being Canadian, I thought I’d tell you a quick hockey story. Yeah. That’s more fun. And I have to say, I do like going down to the hockey rink and watching local teams play. I have even supported the local team by volunteering and helping them with the electric scoreboard. I love to go down there and score with the boys. I like to help out the girls too, of course. I always keep my hand in.
But, you’re diverting me from the main thrust of the story today. We have this player who has been the main scorer of the local team. He’s very talented but he’s been having some issues lately. And in a couple of weeks we have a critical game against another very good team. They’re not professional but I know at least one player on their team is exceptional and used to play at a very high level, so we need to be very organised.
Sebastian, who is a very sound strategist, surprisingly for a kombucha drinking yogi, understands.
“Joe is just too old. He’s got arthritis in his knees. And he keeps forgetting to show up for practice,” said Sebastian, while adjusting my downward dog yoga position from behind. “And if we lose this game we’ll be out of the league. It took us at least four years to get back in last time we were relegated.”
“I can see the problem,” I said, easing into the pose.
“I don’t think there’s any choice,” he went on. “We just need to substitute him out for someone better than we had before. Better, stronger, faster.”
“Do we have that technology?” I said.
“We have the technology,” replied Sebastian, very seriously.
“It’s so obvious,” I agreed. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Sebastian can be unusually wise. His views have adjusted my own from time to time and I find his insights penetrate deeply at both an intellectual and physical level. Anyway, I thought I should share that non-political update with you.
Have a lovely week. Be sure to sign up as a good gurl this week if you haven’t already, as Auntie Kittie is keen for me to suggest a few more sissies come her way. Those were her words, not mine.
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, today is 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.
It’s the weekend of the company summer party. An air of excitement is permeating all of Huckleberry Close. Naturally a few of my friends have come by and will be joining me at the costumed event.
After finding the perfect ensemble, I decided to go a little retro and go as Xena Warrior Princess. I have always liked that look, and like Xena consider myself something of a problem solver. It’s just the kind of gurl I am. As Sylvester, Ali, Max and I prepared for the party and got into our costumes Max’s mother, Marjorie, came over to see what all the excitement was about.
“Hello, Marjorie,” I said as she wandered into my kitchen. “We’re almost ready.”
“So, I can see,” she replied eyeing my breast plate. “And Max is doing a wonderful job of buffing up the brass of that breast plate.”
“He’s been most helpful,” I replied.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier if you’d taken it off first?” asked Marjorie.
“Oh, no,” I replied. “What with Max so hard at work…”
At that moment Ali came in, dressed in a set of Klan robes.
“Ali,” I said. “Are you sure that’s entirely appropriate?”
My Syrian friend replied, “I thought I looked very presidential.”
I could hardly fault that, and said so.
“Perhaps we should all go out and stand on the front lawn. Marjorie could take a photograph of us from the landing upstairs? That window overlooks the garden and the picture will lovely with the roses in the background.”
Marjorie agreed and went up the stairs. A moment later she called down to say she couldn’t get the window open, and that she needed a little help. The window seemed blocked by something from the outside.
“Don’t worry,” cried Ali. “I’ll get a ladder and clear it up.” With that, and a flurry of robes, Ali disappeared to get a ladder. Now the reason I explain all this is simple enough. You can imagine the scene when I was then standing on the front lawn, along with Sylvester dressed like a warrior from Middle Earth, about to go on a quest, Max as a Viking, and all of us staring up a ladder at Ali dressed as a KKK klansman, complete with hood, trying to open the upstairs window of my house on a sunny midweek afternoon.
As the sun glinted off my breastplate, we heard the silent hum of Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend, arriving unannounced to visit my wife – who is unfortunately travelling at present.
With the unmistakable sound of tweed rustling she stepped from her car, open mouthed, and said “What on earth is going on here?”
“Ali’s taking care of a blockage,” I said helpfully, and stared up the ladder. Amanda followed my gaze.
“That’s Ali? I thought you’d finally upset the wrong people,” murmured Amanda with her usual distaste for everyone around her.
Ali’s voice drifted down, “Marjories Areolas are coming out beautifully this year. I’ve not seen her garden from this angle before.”
Sometimes I wonder about Ali’s English lessons. Being a Syrian refugee, who was welcomed to Canada in somewhat disadvantaged circumstances, one might forget that he was also a professor in Damascus University prior to the war.
“I thought something dreadful was happening, as I drove up. I could see this crazy Klansman trying to break in through the window. I thought maybe… Honestly, those people should be bloody well hung!”
Looking up Ali’s klan robe, I replied, “Amanda, from where I’m standing, I think Ali’s pretty well…”
“Oh my god,” said Amanda. “You people make me bloody sick. I just dropped by to tell Max, he’s got the job at Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly as my editorial assistant.”
“Oh,” I replied. “What a sparkling start to a career in journalism. Today Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly, tomorrow the world!”
It’s been such an active period. And I must say, I’ve been surprised by Sebastian, as he’s been putting me through my paces in my fitness regime. This gives me a great opportunity to dress in some lovely outfits.I do, of course, take a keen interest in sport. I’ve been noticing a lot of talk lately about concussions in sport. It’s high time these types of injuries were addressed, and particularly in ice hockey. Unnecessary violence does nothing to enhance the game. However, I was most surprised when Sebastian came home the other day, having had to stop in at the hospital after a yoga class. Apparently, while helping out at his sisters studio, he’d asked a young lady if she was unwell, as she was sneezing and coughing right through the class. When he told her he was sorry she wasn’t feeling herself, she turned round and punched him.
He does take me with him when he’s climbing some weekends. I generally watch, though sometimes I do like to mess around in caves pot holing with him. This very weekend I’m looking forward to a truly dirty weekend of fun in various holes he’s suggested.
That, however, is not the main reason I’m writing. For those of you enjoying my serial “Clothes Maketh The Man”, I have just released Part 69. Things seem to get less and less comfortable for poor Andy!
Now, I have to hurry off. I have a golf lesson with Sebastian shortly. He’s planning to give me one in the bunker.
Fiona
Maintaining discipline on the pitch can be a point of contention even in school games.
I was very suprised this week when I was visited by Sebastian’s cousin, who is visiting Vancouver, from Trondheim in Norway. Arvid is a little short, bespectacled blonde young man, who is a genetic scientist and researcher.
I am always curious about such technologies and scientific developments. I remember reading a magnificent book some years ago, called The Seven Daughters of Eve, which piqued my interest.
As we chatted, I leaned over and poured Arvid’s tea. I couldn’t help noticing the way his glanced slipped to my chest, and hovered there. Now, as you likely know, I love to crossdress in a low cut sweater, and figure hugging clothes. It did seem that Arvid’s research interests may extend beyond the highly theoretical.
“Oh, Arvid,” I said. “I do love the idea of you delving into my genes. I’d so love to learn a little more about my genetic background.”
Arvid turned a deeper shade of red.
“Besides,” I simpered. “Who knows,” I said as I leaned over and poured a little milk into his tea. “Perhaps there could be a little viking in me!”
However, that’s not the main reason I’m writing today. I did want to tell you more about the wonderful things going on at http://FionaDobson.com. We’ve got some wonderful new members in my Elite Whatsapp Group. Such a great group of members looking to connect and chat.
I should also give a quick mention to my correspondent Mildred, from Colorado Springs. I just want to clarify something, Mildred. No, you do not need a password to operate a wireless bra.
I was trying to explain to Rainbow that she was mistaken about Australia having been annexed by Germany in 1938, when her brother Sebastian arrived to join me before breakfast for a yoga class. I do enjoy the early morning yoga classes. Having a personal trainer so committed to my body is something I feel great gratitude for.
Sebastian is a wonderful trainer. How can I best describe his teaching style? I suppose it’s best to call it ‘deeply penetrative’.
I poured a glass of orange juice for each of us, before we started the class. Now, you may remember that Rainbow is studying to be a therapist. When I had suggested to her that therapy might be a good option for her, I had meant participation, rather than training, but she had grasped the wrong end of the stick, and here we are.
“We’ve been learning about Freud,” she told me. “I’m fascinated by Australia.”
I was confused.
“You know,” she said. “Where the marsupials come from.”
Gradually I realised she’d confused Austria with Australia. I thought I should explain a little about European history and things went down hill from there. When she pointed out that Europeans were so much more cultured than those of us here in North America I took issue with her. That was the point that she started on about how Leonardo was so multitalented, with the whole painting, mathematics and engineering, and making all those films, too! Apparently she loved Titanic.
Rainbow has recently started dating Epiphany. While her heart may have swelled the same can’t be said for her intellect, I fear.
But that’s not the main reason I am writing. As spring rushes in and we prepare for summer I have a fun task for you. It’s thrift store time. Yes, it’s time to go out and scan the thrift stores for something fun to wear. But this time I’d like you to do it a little differently. I’d like you to try and buy something that is fairly androgynous. Feminine, but just safe enough for you to wear around without being obviously crossdressing. Yes, this is part of your gradual move to a more androgynous look. Pastel colors, a little feminine but not so very much that you feel uncomfortable around people you know. Push your boundaries, but not too far.
Have fun out there, and remember, ‘recycle, reuse and reduce’. You’ll be doing your bit to save the planet.
🙂
Fiona
PS. Enjoy the song below. If you’re a member of my Behind The Scenes group you’ll know why this is a special one for me.
High-quality – Women 3/4 Bell Sleeve oversize Blouse Adopts The Classic Slim Fitting T-Shirt Style In Solid Color; This Floral Textured Babydoll Shirts Is Lightweight, Breathable,The Tunic Tops Will Go Well With Most Body Shapes.
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 last month.
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!
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
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 yoga 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 above 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 you desire.”
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.
If you enjoy a ghostly tale 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 perhaps you know I am enjoying a little time away from the hard weather and have slipped of to the Baja, in Mexico. Such a delightful place. However, you can imagine the surprise when I received an excited phone call from Ali, my gardener.
“You should have seen it, Miss Fiona. Sylvester slammed his tackle roughly in from behind. I’ve not seen anything like it!”
As you’ve likely guessed, Ali has discovered ice hockey. Well, it had to happen. You can’t be in Canada for very long without being affected by this the national sport.
“It was wonderful,” said Ali. “He’s been on the game for some years, I hear.”
“I think you mean, ‘he’s been on the team’, Ali,” I corrected him. I really do worry about Ali’s English at times. I really must speak to his teacher.
Ali went on to tell me that Sebastian’s been going out with a new girl and is very taken with her. Apparently she’s very pretty but she has a squint. Unfortunately she’s unable to see him any more. Poor Sebastian.
I do like to keep up with the news at home as you can tell, but that’s not the main reason I’m writing. I thought I’d share some news with you. I have added a new $1 level to my Patreon page. This allows you to penetrate just a little deeper without going to the full expense of the other programs. I realise there are many things out there at present competing for your attention, and at such a difficult time it’s sometimes a little hard to justify the expense of a full program like the Premium Program for some of us. It’s important to me to be available to all my members, so I talked to Max about this and asked for his ideas.
He said, “You need to give people a different option. Some way to have a relationship without too much expense. You need some kind of ‘Back Door’. So, with this in mind I am inviting you to join my Patreon and use my ‘back door’ for just $1 a month. I think you’re going to like it. It’s exclusively on Patreon. Join here – https://www.patreon.com/fionadobsonCD
I really do enjoy having a few friends over in the evening. So it was that I found myself, just the other day, hosting a small party with Sylvester, Auntie Kittie, Sebastian, Rainbow and her new friend, Epiphany. Just use those links if you’d like to explore a little more detail of each of these great friends.
I’d prepared a small variety of dishes. You know how it is when you are taking into account the various dietary needs of people, I’m sure. When I had asked Epiphany what sort of foods she enjoyed she had informed me that she ‘preferred not to feast on the flesh of murdered animals.’
Epiphany is a very slight girl. I am sure she’ll become Rainbow’s lover. She has very small hands.
As Sylvester was listening to Rainbow talking about a flasher who has been frightening people in a local park, I put out the tofu drizzled with a peanut satay sauce.
“He was about average height and had a big coat. And I think he was right handed,” said Rainbow who didn’t seem the slightest concerned that she’d been exposed to in such a manner, when out for her evening run.
“How exciting,” I said. “And with all this cold weather, too!”
Epiphany and Rainbow, both choosing not to eat meat, were extolling the virtues of a vegetarian diet.
“I have often thought I should become vegetarian,” I said. “Though I really do enjoy seafood.”
Sylvester decided to chime in and added, “Fiona does love a winkle in cider now and then.”
I told Sylvester to shut up, you know he really can be quite coarse at times.
At this point Auntie Kittie chimed in that she thought everybody loves a well prepared bird on the table, “and honestly, girls, who doesn’t love a good stuffing?”
I gave Sylvester a sharp kick under the table as I saw his mouth open, but before he could make some crude comment. He muttered something about everyone loving a good sausage.
It’s such a good thing I always prepare a variety delights for my guests. I served the various dishes but not before suggesting to my assembled guests that they should be sure to leave a little room for desert. What a surprise it was for them when, after I cleared away the main course Auntie emerged from the kitchen and whipped out her dumplings covered in cream!
But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I am trying to build up my Patreon following. It’s an up hill struggle, but the more members I can grow there, the more content I can release. Your support is greatly appreciated, especially in these tough times. In case you don’t know you can support me there by subscribing for as little as $5, or if you choose to become one of my Unicorn level members you can get one of my famous ‘You want me to use which bathroom’ mugs. Who could resist such an offering!
Have a lovely evening,
Fiona
PS. Enjoy the video with Annie Lennox, Hugh Laurie and John Malkovich below.
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.
