I have a couple of cycles, and love to whip them out in the sunshine!

I have a couple of bicycles and like to whip them out whenever I can.

The spring sunshine is a delight in Vancouver at this time of year. I love to peddle through the city on these lovely seasonal days, on the cycle paths that slice through the worst of traffic.

I do remember cycling in the city prior to the introduction of sensible cycle paths. It too was lovely, although cyclist did seem to compete for space as hood ornaments on passing SUVs. It’s so much better now.

And this week I’ve been particularly busy. Those of you who enjoy Clothes Maketh The Man will be delighted to know that Part 55 is now out. You can find a complete chapter list here.

As you likely know it is Mother’s Day in North America today. Those of you who forgot, you’ve still got a little time to do a late recovery! As my dear mother passed on some years ago I find myself hanging out with other motherless trans gurls.

I would have been hanging with Sylvester, but he called me rather excited to tell me he is going over to visit Marjory, my neighbor and Amanda’s lover, and is apparently going to wax her Volvo for her. It all sounds very suspicious to me.

Have a lovely day,

Fiona


It’s true — As a crossdresser I miss the lockdown.

As life slowly returns to normal and we remove the nails that we used to nail our front doors closed it’s time to re-emerge into the sunshine of spring in North America. How wonderful to get out more, and smell the sweet aroma of horribly expensive gasoline as people start to drive back to work and travel once more.

As crossdressers, trannies and other seafarers on this gender fluid sea, it is up to us, of course, to add to the aesthetic beauty of spring and the reawakening of the human race. Choosing a nice spring outfit, colorful and light, we can wear the clothes that bring back the joyful nature of this most fecund of seasons. You can use my Pinterest board on Spring Style to help you — https://www.pinterest.ca/fionadobson22/spring-crossdressing-style/ . And with good taste and subtlety and a little care we can do so without looking like complete tossers.

So, as we go forward grasping the pulsating stalk of this spring flower, we can step proudly into this new time. It’s not the return to ‘normal’, whatever that was, but it’s something different. Something we can appreciate more than once we did.

One thing that I am forced to consider, having watched any number of post apocalypse movies having grown up in the shadow of impending nuclear war, is that this idea of a return to ‘normal’ — so often reflected in such movies as people climb out of the rubble to rebuild the new world in the image of the old one — is that the ‘normal’ we left back in March of 2020 was not so normal after all. At that time we’d just seen an insurrection at the Capitol. We had white nationalists openly parading in the streets and a delusional former president having a tantrum and expecting Americans to change his nappy.

As we emerge we can see the spectre of war in Europe returning, and all that goes along with that. In other words, there is no ‘normal’. There never was. We live in an evolving world. And yet for us, who for many years have suppressed such a large part of our personality, this should come as no surprise. After all, we’ve always had to ‘carry on’ in spite of what we see around us. We’ve watched trans freedoms eroded, we’ve experienced our own internal wars, the struggle to live with the peculiarities of gender identity and psychology, and for many of us the continual denial of who we really are.

For many people the lockdown was a time they could cut out some of the chaff of life, and wear whatever they liked while working from home, and by the way you can’t tell what the others in the Zoom meeting are wearing out of frame.

With a smaller social ‘bubble’ than usual some of us were forced to weed out redundant contacts and connections. The contacts that are only there because they always were, doing the activities we do because it’s what we’ve always done.

I remember conversations in my previous marriage that went something like this:

Former Wife: “Let’s go to Jeff’s this Easter.”

Fiona: “But I don’t want to go to Jeff’s this Easter.”

Former Wife: “We always go to Jeff’s at Easter.”

I don’t even like Jeff. No one likes Jeff. And I especially don’t like the other guests, mostly because I think they like Jeff. So where is the logic in going to Jeff’s? Having a smaller but better group of people I consider my close friends is one part of the lockdown that I thoroughly enjoyed. After all, I need time to service my members — yes, seriously! The lock down allowed me to trim out parts of my life that were no longer important to me.

In this period as lockdowns and mandates become a thing of the past, we can start to adapt to this new world. In doing so it’s a perfect opportunity to trim out the things we don’t want to re-ignite. Perhaps if we loose a few of the negative aspects of the life we left behind. Personally I have done a few things you may wish to emulate.

1. I’ve gone through my contacts and lost at least 30% of people who I just don’t need swallowing up my time. Like most things that are worthwhile, friendships need to be worked at and maintained. If I am the only one doing the work then they can slip away.

2. I’ve stopped watching the news more than 2 times a day. Seeing Putin bouncing Trump on his knee so vigorously he ejaculates isn’t the way to get my day off to a good start. I don’t need to see the latest horror story about how awful life is — I know it’s not a picnic. Yet somehow we step forward in sheer stockings and panties and get on with it, don’t we? I just don’t need that stuff polluting my head 24/7.

3. I’ve maintained the healthy physical activities I enjoyed during the lockdown. I’m getting more out of these today, post lockdown, than I ever did before COVID. They give me joy and provide structure to my life that I enjoy.

4. I’ve rearranged my working style around this slightly smaller life and I find it works well for me. Working from home and being disciplined about limiting my work hours to allow a better work life balance has been life changing.

So, there’s a few ideas for you. It’s going to be different for all of us, but tossing out the bad, and maintaining the good is probably not a bad thing for us all.

😊

Fiona


Join my Premium Program for just $9.99 a month.

A little about my busy work day.

What a busy week it’s been . I’ve also nearly been rushed off my crossdressing advertising executive feet with work.

To give you an idea of my life at the agency I can give you a little window into typical day, since I know you’re sure to be interested.

Just yesterday I had to run into the office, which I generally avoid these days, but there were two or three meetings I had to attend. The agency handles a number of pro bono accounts for charities, and I often oversee these.

Called into the boardroom I listened to the new ideas for the Eczema fundraising campaign. Call it my sensitive nature, if you like, but when I get a good idea in my head it really is like an itch I have to scratch, which is why I keep such a tight handle on the accounts I run. I like to keep a close eye on the way the our clients are represented. I really don’t know why Desmond, one of the young account executives, would think that a scratch and win card would be an appropriate fund raising campaign for that particular account.

I was cornered at the watercooler between meetings at one point, by one of the boys in Creative.

“Fiona,” said Jeff, “you remember the lady that did that presentation on ‘Sexual Harassment in the Workplace’?”

“Which one,” I replied. “There were two of them. The tall one or the short one?”

“The one with the great rack,” said Jeff.

“Oh, that would be Joan,” I replied as I slipped away thinking that the workshop was lost on some of the boys in Creative. There was a smell of irony hanging in the air as I made my way back to my office to meet with the Leprosy Awareness Foundation delegation, who have asked us to come up with some ideas for their funding drive in a month or two.

An advertising agency brings a lot to a non-profit organisation such as this one. Sometimes the distance that an outside view can bring to an account will make all the difference. So, mentioning to the two very tightly wrapped and suited ladies sitting in my office, that a finger buffet may not be the best type of event at which to showcase their good work on behalf of the Foundation was something I had to tactfully suggest.

These are just some of the things that fill my day. You cannot imagine the relief of getting home, kicking off my heels and settling down for a nice cup of tea at the end of the day, Hannibal, my dachshund, sitting in my lap as I listen to a few gentle tracks to relax at the end of the day. I usually slip into some nice leggings and do a few stretches to finally let go of the office stress.

If you love to take great selfies, you might find the series I am running on the site this month of interest. You can find The Crossdresser’s Guide To Selfies HERE. Remember there’s a ton of free content on the site which you can access by drilling down through the tags at the end of the posts.

I do hope you’re enjoying the content on my site. If you’ve not already done so be sure to join one of my programs. If you’re already in one, thank you. I really do appreciate the support of my members. Oh, that reminds me! I have to prepare some ideas for a new client that manufactures brassieres.

Have a lovely week.

Fiona


Let’s try to be accepting of others.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ali frowned as he read the article.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

😊

Fiona



I’m never too busy to shop.

I’ve just finished a busy week of work at the advertising agency. I’ve hardly had time to do the volunteering I love to do down at the SPCA. I often help out in their office.  It’s so tiny, though. There’s hardly room to swing a cat in there!

I have however had time to get a little shopping in.  I decided to pay a visit to the department store downtown, and Sylvester, my mechanic, joined me. When he’d finished going round and round in the revolving door he followed me into the lingerie department. He really can be infantile at times, you know.

Such a delightful way to spend the afternoon. Looking at lingerie with a neanderthal companion. He is however good at carrying boxes while I’m shopping. You can find some of my shopping list suggestions HERE.

In the meantime I thought you might enjoy the video below.  It’s a talk by Paula Stone Williams. They transitioned in their fifties and experienced life as both a man and a woman.  Their perspective is worth hearing. If you’d like more content on the psychology of crossdressing, you can find it on my site here – https://fionadobson.com/tag/psychology/.

Have a great week.

😊

Fiona

There’s no ‘f’ in trannies!

The latest episode of Clothes Maketh The Man is out. You can find it here.

Before I go any further, I should clarify something for Mildred from Colorado Springs, in response to your question of how to prevent her puppy stealing food from kitchen surfaces I had advised her to put it in the fridge. I was, of course, referring to the food, and not the dog. I understand Spot is making a full recovery, but now avoids confined spaces.

Now that things are a little less locked down I am having more guests over at my place.  Last night Sylvester and I enjoyed a nice glass of wine while we waited for Marjory and Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend, to arrive for a night of board games. Apparently Amanda was a little late getting home, her industrial welding class having over run.

There’s no ‘f’ in ‘Trannies’ said Sylvester, as I arranged the letters on the Scrabble board.

“Don’t be so silly,” I said as I placed the lettered tiles on the board. “There, ‘Transference’ and the ‘T’ is on a double word score.”

I’ve been trying to keep Sylvester amused as he’s been moping about the place recently. I think he’s a little jealous of Marjory, who’s in a lesbian relationship with Amanda. All the same he did his best to be gracious, and put some music on while we played the game.

Marjory, who is very big on the competitive eating circuit, enjoys country music and Sylvester created a selection of Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson classics.

“Sylvester,” said Marjory, “You have such good taste.  I’m a little surprised.”

Sylvester looked a little sheepish, and then Marjory added, “I’ve always liked Johnny Cash, but I’ve never really been a fan of Willie’s.”

Sylvester cast a sideways glance at Amanda, but wisely said nothing. Poor Sylvester.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you tonight. I’m just letting you know that there’s a new episode of Clothes Maketh The Man out, part 52, and reminding all my members that I’ve recently added some wonderful new hypnosis files to the Seahorse ProgramMistress Meg has been particularly busy, creating some great material. There’s always plenty of hypnosis files on the site, many of which are free, and they can be found by following this link.

I have adjusted some of my pricing recently giving a discount to those booking for a one year subscription. Be sure to check out my programs here – http://FionaDobson.com/my-programs

Have a lovely week,

Fiona Dobson



Wrap your lips around this.

First of all I should make a quick correction, for the benefit of one of my members who has contacted me regarding some confusion in advice I gave her recently. When I said that a pair of sugar tongs may be used to pull fur balls from a cat, I should have pointed out that these are found in the cat’s throat. Now that that’s clarified, I can get along with today’s post.

While I do not condone smoking in an way, I admit that at New Year I will sit in my conservatory and smoke a cigar with Sylvester to celebrate the arrival of the new year. I know it’s not very ladylike, but Mistress Meg and Katia Thornwood do enjoy the occasional puff and as long as it’s just once a year I don’t really have a problem with it.

As I sat in a ratan chair, blowing snow piling up outside the window, I remarked to Sylvester that nothing can really beat getting your lips round eight inches of Cuban and that it’s a lovely way to start the new year.

My long maxi pleated skirt fell about my stockinged legs, as we sat there watching the snow. I felt nice and cozy in the night, warmed by a sherry and a radiator which keeps this pleasant room toasty on cold winter nights.

Sylvester blew a smoke ring and then said, “I didn’t realise these cigars were from Cuba.”

“The cigars? Oh, no I think these are from Nicaragua,” I replied.

He really should follow the plot.

Anyway, that’s not the main reason I am writing. There’s a fun new self hypnosis on my site which I thought I’d tell you about. You can find it here.

I hope 2022 is getting off to a good start for you.

🙂

Fiona

http://FionaDobson.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ciao.

Fiona

Marjorie’s got old man’s beard in her bush!

When Ali, my gardener, came in to my kitchen and announced that my next door neighbour, Marjorie, had old man’s beard in her bush I was most concerned.

“But Ali, you realise Marjorie is in a relationship with Amanda, don’t you?”

“It’s the same every year,” he said in frustration. “She doesn’t take care of her bush at all. And with this rain… It’s so moist. If she’s not careful it will get into our garden.”

“Well now,” I said feeling a little awkward and not quite sure where to look. “How very disturbing,” I said.

It’s so very easy to have misunderstandings when your gardener has an understanding of English that’s less than perfect. In fact, this very morning after I had pulled on some stockings and a lovely little kilt, I found myself answering one of the many emails I get to clear up a rather disturbing misunderstanding. Having advised one of my members, Mildred from Colorado Springs, on some issues she was having with training her new puppy she reached out to me feeling most distressed.

As you probably know I am a font of assistance to my members. I had, as I remember, suggested that to help her acclimatize the puppy to it’s new surroundings she should take the animal into each of the rooms in it’s new home in turn, and then put it down on some old newspaper. Well, you’d think those instructions were impossible to misinterpret. Apparently I was mistaken.

I really do make every effort to help my lovely members. And of course, that unusual group, my Seahorses, enjoy the attention of Mistress Meg, who has been busy uploading some new content to the site. If you’re a Seahorse member you may already be enjoying the excitement of The Stories Your Mother Never Told You. When one of Mistress Meg’s clients asks her to look after a journal written years ago by his mother she agrees to do so, on condition she can read the content. As she learns of his mother’s lascivious behaviour what can she possibly do, but read the content to her client, while he is bound and made to listen.

These disturbing accounts are perfect for my delightful Seahorse members. You can learn about Valerie and her friends in this 1950’s story that draws back the curtain on a decade of naughtiness. If you’re not already a Seahorse member you might want to join this special group in the run up to Christmas.

If you’re looking for ideas for a treat why not check out my Shopping list. There’s always ideas for a few fun things to get yourself there. And don’t forget, if you’re not already in one of my programs they’re a wonderful way to enjoy yourself over the holiday season.

Have a great week.

Fiona.

My dog, Hannibal, has been interred!

Well, I thought what Sylvester was saying was that Hannibal, my dachshund had been interred. Wondering if this were some punishment for running wildly about the park, I assumed he meant he’d been taken by the bylaw officer. This is what you get for letting your friend walk your dog.

I’d have walked Hannibal myself, were it not for the fact that I need my legs waxed. Rainbow has been kind enough to come over to help, and after we’ve finished we’ll be enjoying an eggplant yoghurt facial she has concocted. As you can imagine I am using the term ‘enjoying’ advisedly. I’m sure you understand there’s a certain amount of scheduled maintenance has to happen to keep up appearances, as a crossdressing account executive at the advertising agency. Much as one would care for a beautiful object, or as Bernard, my photographer, put it rather unkindly a large public building.

Sylvester thinks Hannibal, who is extremely sweet particularly when he snarls at Amanda, is a chick magnet. Whenever he walks Hannibal young women who ought to know better come up to Sylvester and start fawning over him. I mean, Hannibal, not Sylvester. Fawning over Sylvester would be like fawning over a Caterpillar Tractor. As a result Sylvester enjoys walking Hannibal some days, usually after the local yummy mummies have dropped there screaming charges off at the Huckleberry Montessori Daycare Centre For Spoiled Brats.

He wanders around the park looking sombre and brooding like a poet or a man recently widowed who needs the loving embrace of a dissatisfied young mother. Preferably blonde, a former gymnast, and quite possibly with poor English skills.

“What do you mean, Sylvester,’ I said into the phone. “They can’t inter my dog!’

“No, he’s been ‘interred’. It’s a fancy way of saying he’s got very dirty.”

I paused. I think Sylvester has been spending too much time with Ali, my Syrian gardener.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” I said. “If you mean he’s dirty I suggest you bring him back here and give him a good wash. And I don’t mean like last time.”

I could tell Sylvester was about to protest and quickly added, “Sylvester, throwing Hannibal’s ball through Mr. Singh’s car wash does not count as cleaning my dog. I’m still getting abusive phone calls from him from the last time.”

I hung up the phone and returned to the business at hand, Katia having recently arrived and was presently sitting with Rainbow and myself contemplating the yoghurt facial. 

“Do you plan to eat it or fix the grouting with it?” she asked.

As you likely know, Katia Thornwood is what I can best be described as a disciplinarian, working with some of my Seahorse members. These are those special members who require that extra little helping hand in their dressing. Katia and Mistress Meg look after them and can be found on my Patreon. However, Katia was visiting my house to discuss some minor business matters and was looking forward to seeing Sylvester.

“He’s a very useful sort of chump,” observed Katia. “He leant me some of that very fine oil for a pair of nipple clamps I use on my visitors. I’ve been using them a while now, and I hardly hear a squeak out of them.”

“The clamps or the visitors,” I asked.

“Both,” she replied. “I have these rather frightening surgical shears I’d like him to oil. They’re most intimidating. They look perfect for castration.”

I winced a little and then said, “Well you can be sure your clients would speak highly of you after that.”

Katia sniggered and replied that they’re really just for show and insisted it’s good to maintain her tools.

😊

Fiona

Join me as a Good Gurl today.

It’s a cruel summer.

What a great time to go out and find the perfect bikini. Here in Vancouver we’re living with some pretty nasty forest fires nearby, and smoke has become an issue. So many climate related issues reminds me of the importance of having exactly the right thing to wear as the earth spirals into global warming and frying us to a crisp.

https://amzn.to/3jU8Iil

I must say that last time I spoke to my good friend Greta Thurnberg I did say that as much as I just loved the idea of reducing our carbon footprint I thought she might put some energy getting a little makeup organised, and some nice footwear. I mean to say, if you’re worried about your carbon footprint it stands to reason that you should at least try to adapt with style.

All that said, it does rather strike me that the leaders of today, and I am thinking of Dickie Branson, Elon and Bezos, all of whom are doing their best to leave the planet, might temper some of their efforts and rather than burning rocket fuel in our precious atmosphere, try improving life down here instead. I can think of many people I’d love to shoot into space, but frankly none of those rockets seem to be very environmentally friendly. I mean, are any of these rockets ‘low emission’ models?

Be sure to stay covered up on days when there’s a high UV index. And check out this lovely swimsuit. Perfect for the well dressed crossdresser to wear for a day at the beach.

Have a lovely week,

Fiona

Sylvester wants me to suck his twelve incher!

What an eventful week. It all started with Sylvester, but then doesn’t it always.  He had a nasty fall from the toilet after a particularly strong curry. I have been trying to be as supportive as possible, visiting and bringing over things he needs while he rests up.

I should point out that over the years Sylvester has become much more than simply my mechanic. He is a dear friend and we often used to travel together. A couple of years ago we visited England and explored my childhood home on the Isle of Wight. Apart from doing a few touristy things, we did visit one of my neighbours who has been a friend of my since childhood. He lives on a neighboring farm and apart from the usual stock keeps a few chickens and rare avian breeds. I always look forward to seeing his woodcock, pullet and swallow.

And of course there’s always the fun of buying a few souvenirs to bring back to friends at home. Last time I remember we brought back sticks of rock for friends. I should explain that these are long shafts of hard candy about a foot long, often with the name of the place it comes from set into it. I don’t really think there’s a North American equivalent of this, much to the disappointment of dentists throughout the new world.

When I dropped off a few things to make Sylvester more comfortable while he rests up this week he asked me if I’d like to suck on his twelve incher, and then handed me a stick of rock left over from our trip. You can probably imagine how surprised I was. So many of my trips provide me with memories that will never leave me.  At least, not without a long course of therapy.

I expect it will be a little while before we once again share the joys of being squeezed into economy seating on an airline next to a fat guy that brought his own salami. I may even get to the stage where I miss the body searches that Jeffrey at the airport always gives me when I arrive back home. Jeffrey is the sweet young man that looks after customs at our the airport. The last couple of times he’s insisted on doing the search even though I was just picking up a friend returning from a local flight and had just parked my car. He really is quite familiar. He could save us all a lot of time and just ask me out on a date, but I guess he’s just shy.

But that’s not the main reason I am writing.  I have been so thrilled with the following I’m building on Patreon, I thought I’d give you a quick heads up. I will be putting the base program price up soon, so if you’re not already in there and  want to get in to the $1 a month level it’s probably a good idea to get in there soon. As I said to Jeffrey last time I came through arrivals, as he gave me that knowing smile and pulled his glove on, “you’d better get in there quickly before I put it up.”

By the way I Max has posted my latest story on the Fiona Dobson Patreon, which you can access free here. It’s a cautionary tale for those members crossdressing in their senior years, and it’s really worth a listen.

😊

Fiona

Become a Patron!

Sylvester’s got his knob out and is giving it a polish.

We had a little socially distanced gathering the other day which I feel I should tell you about.  Amanda, as you likely know, is my wife’s friend and the editor of Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly, the seventh most popular pig related publication in the Midwest. As such I have found inviting her to some brainstorming sessions has helped at times. On this occasion Bernard, my photographer, and Sebastian were also present.

Poor Sebastian, he’s very worried about his sister, who you will remember made a small error and applied for the job involving a little ‘light house keeping’, and is now positioned in the far north manning a navigation outpost alone in the northern arctic. Bernard is also feeling quite disrupted. He loves to go hunting and fishing. The cold months unfortunately reduce his leisure activities substantially. So, you can see the need for a something to destress us all seemed quite pressing.

“I think we should address the elephant in the room,” said Bernard. Naturally I glanced at Amanda. He continued, “we need some direction.  Something to help us see past how difficult things are at the moment. We need some goals.”

“You are so right, Bernard,” I agreed. “It’s like my friend Justin said just the other day. Spring is coming! We should remember that!”

It’s not unusual for me to have a call from the Prime Minister’s office late in the evening, with Mr. Trudeau looking for a little advice.  He often asks me for a helping hand, and I am always happy to give him one.

Continue reading “Sylvester’s got his knob out and is giving it a polish.”

Preparing yourself for your next adventure.

There’s a temptation to think of crossdressing as something people only do in the privacy of an intimate environment. In many cases that is true, though most of us would like to take it further, but stifle this desire.

Breaking out of this mold and dressing outdoors is a major step for many of us and leads to a better understanding of the fluid nature of our gender. Once the initial trepidation is over come – and, yes, I could write a book on that alone – then a new world emerges. It feels wonderful to find this, and for many it’s the first time they feel entirely comfortable and can be themselves.

As one enjoys the freedom to wear what we want, and be who we are, it starts to feel increasingly comfortable. I often point people toward this article to get a better basic understanding of crossdressing, and what it means to you. It’s the experience in the end that is our best teacher, though. It takes courage to make those first steps. You might think of it as the price you have to pay to be your true self.

Continue reading “Preparing yourself for your next adventure.”

Being non-binary isn’t just about gender.

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

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

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