Prior to 7th February if anyone had asked me how I viewed my dressing, my answer would have been fairly simple: I’m a man who likes to wear women’s clothes sometimes. But since that day I no longer feel that that can be my answer, it’s just too simplistic and superficial. My female side, Kirsty, is much stronger than that and I’m not sure if she will ever be back in her cage again. I’m writing this blog as Kirsty for crying out loud, and as Kirsty I feel that I have (or at least want) an identity of my own. That doesn’t necessarily mean that my male side isn’t important to me as well, but I don’t think I can ever let it dominate again. But I’m getting ahead of myself…
In my last blog post I wrote about all the preparations I had made for a day that I had set aside to fully transform myself into (hopefully) the woman I wanted to be for the first time. So after what seemed like both an age and an instant, the day finally came around. Kids were dropped off to school and wife to work, and I came home to begin the process.
For the first time in my life I shaved my legs (standing in the bath with a wet razor, only one little cut!) then trimmed down the regrowth of chest and shoulder hair. Finally a very close shave of my face (electric followed by wet) and a quick application of moisturiser and lotion and I was ready to begin in earnest.
One side of our bedroom is completely taken up by a mirrored slide robe, effectively meaning that we have an entire wall made of mirror. I was determined not to look at myself in this mirror until I was completely finished as I didn’t want to see a work in progress. So I set myself up in our “office” with a mirror where the laptop normally sits, and a bedside lamp on each side of the mirror shining plenty of light on to my face so I could really see what I was doing. This was going to be a major undertaking. I put on the wig cap to keep my own hair out of the equation, then took out all of the make-up that I had bought and lined it up in front of me in the order in which it was going to go on. I have blue eyes and naturally very pale skin so the make-up was chosen accordingly;
1. Concealer – Revlon Colorstay (light)
2. Foundation – Max Factor Lasting Performance (Fair)
3. Blush – Bourjois Little Round Pot (Rose Frisson)
4. Powder – Max Factor Creme Puff (Truly Fair)
5. Eyeshadow – Bourjois Smoky Eyes Trio (Violet Romantic)
6. Eyeliner – Rimmel Soft Kohl Kajal Pencil (Jet Black)
7. Mascara – Max Factor Eye Brightening Mascara for Blue Eyes (Black Sapphire)
8. Laval Eyebrow Pencil (Blonde) (tbh I could have done without this)
9. Lip liner – L’Oreal Contour Parfait (Simply Rose)
10. Lipstick – Max Factor Colour Collections (English Rose)
11. Lip gloss – Bourjois Effet 3D (Rose Charismatic)
and putting that lot on took me about 45 minutes. Bear in mind I was a complete novice and there was a hell of a lot of the stuff. It was an odd feeling, looking at the face I have known for over 40 years slowly turning into something else right in front of my eyes. Odd, but good. Despite what I had feared, I didn’t have any difficulty in keeping my hand steady but keeping my eyelids steady for the eyeliner was a different matter. It was a real struggle to keep my upper eyelid in one place but at least I managed not to prod myself in the eye with an eyeliner pencil.
Once all the make-up was on then I could get dressed, being careful not to smear make-up on my clothes. A quick roll over the breast area with the body adhesive prior to putting the breast forms into my bra was useful but the bra really was too big. I think without the adhesive the forms would probably moved around quite a bit. (Quick note from the future: I have now got smaller bras and they are much better, a solid hold with or without adhesive). Then everything else went on – padded panties, waist cincher, tights, dress and shoes. Finally, on went the wig. I flipped it into place and then looked at myself in the mirror I had been using to do my make-up. It was the first time I had ever seen myself as Kirsty and it exceeded all my hopes. No Lily Savage, no Danny La Rue, I looked like the female me that I had so hoped to see. It was time to walk in front of the big mirrors and take a look at all of me.
When I walked into the bedroom and looked at my full form, head to toe transformed into Kirsty, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I was deliriously happy. In fact, I am really struggling to come up with words to describe the emotions going on inside my head. Suffice to say that for the first time in my life I looked at myself in the mirror and was happy with the reflection staring back. I knew immediately that I wasn’t some bloke who likes dressing up, I am a woman who shares a body with a man. The man still exists and is still hugely important, but the woman who had been suppressed for decades had just leaped out and shouted her presence. The emotions were nearly too much for me, but I just about held them in check. Anyway, I couldn’t let myself cry as it would have ruined my mascara.
I carefully walked downstairs with all the grace of a newborn baby gazelle and into a living room flooded with natural light albeit from behind closed blinds. I couldn’t stop staring at myself, whether just looking down at my female form or looking myself straight in the eye in the mirror. So in order to be able to continue staring at myself, I downloaded a self timer app for my iPhone and then perched it on its side on the TV table (TV as in television!). So here is the first ever photo of Kirsty.
It has been pointed out to me that I’m doing a bit of Sharon-Stone-Basic-Instinct style camera angle in this photo, but I think I just about get away with it. I’ll be more careful in future – I’m not that kind of girl!
Here’s another one actually standing up to show off my newly shaved legs in high gloss tights, and a better view of the shoes. I love these shoes!
And a few selfies close up on my face;
I’m very pleased with how the look turned out considering this was my first ever attempt at a full face of make-up. I can definitely see me experimenting with different looks and colours in future.
This wasn’t the only dress I had bought, so after lunch it was back upstairs for a quick change and a touch-up of my lip gloss ready for a different look;
And finally my favourite photo of the day;
All the pictures I took that day are on my Flickr page.
All in all I spent around 5 hours dressed, but “dressed” is an inappropriate word for what I experienced. I didn’t feel in any way male during that time, I had become a part-time woman. So as I removed all of Kirsty’s clothing and began to wash off the make-up I had a realisation; this couldn’t be all there is to Kirsty, a very occasional flourishing in an empty house. I need a female life alongside my male one.