Summertime for trans folk is a strange time. You would think it’s all floaty dresses, smooth pins and fancy wedges. What could be more transtastic than all that? Hmmm. Well, summertime is an odd time. It’s a time when The Urge – to use a highly technical term – just seems to fade away. It doesn’t go completely – hell, I still double take when walking past Dotty P’s summer collection – but it does seem to abate.
Last week P. asked if I was going out to Notts, but truthfully, I wasn’t really interested. This weekend is also the monthly meeting of the girls at Leicester, and to tell you the truth in all this excitement, I’ve kinda lost track myself. Just call me Dirty Harriet. 🙂
I must confess as I find this more than a little odd. During the winter months I was counting down the days (well, almost) to the next meeting and planning what to wear. Now it seems, I’m thinking about how fabby the weather is, when the wee-man*, P and I can go to the park, etc.
So, following a highly scientific logic pattern, if summertime (and sunshine) means a reduction in your trans powers, perhaps it means that places like the Carribean are cross dresser free. Meanwhile, less sunnier climes (Scotland? Finland?) are packed with skirt-wearing heathens or men with long hair, make-up and big guitars. (Well, at least if the Eurovision was anything to go by. 🙂 They got my vote!!)
This pattern tends to repeat each year and trans-ness begins to pick up as the clocks turn back. Blogs come to a halt, shoes go unsold and trans clubs are quiet. I hope that most of them have enough reserves to pay the venues. Maybe a visit en homme is required! That’ll be a first.
* BTW, “wee-man” – that’s not a euphenism for your John Thomas. Talking about taking your wee-man “out in the park” is a bit too al-fresco. Honestly, you’d think I was some kind of perv with talk like that. Oh no, wait…. damn. 🙂