I don’t know about you, but I find the run up to Christmas, can be a bit fraught. I suppose, it’s all about how much effort you put in. For me, there’s family stuff, work stuff and, of course, trans stuff. I would say it’s like juggling three balls, but that’s only setting myself up for some smutty giggling. 🙂
Little Miss had her school play this week and, bless her, it’s wiped her out. Four performances in three days and a slightly later than usual bedtime, do not a good rest make. Or, some of those words in slightly different order. I can’t work out if I’m channelling Yoda, or the great Mr Morecambe. American readers may wish to check YouTube here.
Work has been a roller-coaster of quiet times, panic and Xmas dos. Somehow, and perhaps due to my luck of position in the building, I’ve been invited to more than one Christmas soiree. The lunchtime one was a very nice country hotel, up in north Nottinghamshire. This was a thank you from a volunteer organisation, I, and some colleagues, did some work for in the autumn. It was very much an unexpected treat and certainly without the some of the macho chest beating that goes on in some teams. All reasons for Christmas cheer.
Due to Black Friday, I’d order a sequin skirt and because of the Christmas rush, I had an email saying it was delayed. Cue a very sharp intake of breath. But, but, it’s the Chameleons Christmas Party in a few days! Arrrghhh! Luckily, it was all a storm in a C cup, as I got a text on Monday, saying it had arrived. A bargain thanks to a discount code (Ed: half price!), so I was very happy with that. I had planned to team a lacy top with it, which mean getting a new bra.
Oh, bra shopping: how can I count the ways I don’t love you? 🙂 It seems, at least for part time trans people like me, to go like this:
- Find a bra in your size, colour and desired shape. A task, in itself.
- Traipse to the men’s department and collect Obligatory Clothing Distraction (usually jeans)
- Hope it’s not Declare All Goods, when you find an unlocked changing room.
- Go in the changing room and hope no one stumbles in while you’re trying on.
- Weigh up if you can be bothered to repeat the above, to try another size.
So, no, I’m not a fan of buying bras. Which, oddly, you think I would be, given that we part timers are supposed to be all about the frillies, right? Gah, if only there was a system that could measure you and provide a decent fit that gave you a a modicum of cleavage. Perhaps, I’ll have to wait for my time on Dragons’ Den, That or RuPaul’s Drag Den. Hmm…. [“Bitch, please. I’m out.” 🙂 ]
The bra did have detachable straps and thankfully New Look were stocking the transparent plastic replacements. A set of those went in the basket and the rest is history. Maybe I should have gone for a 38, but the shop didn’t stock them. M&S didn’t have anything suitable, which I found odd given the number of lace or strapless dresses en vogue this and yesteryear.
Some Assembly Required
With everything packed and some food shopping done, I was off early to the centre. It was Little Miss’s last play, and as I’d seen her singing in the chorus, the night before, I had an early pass. Good job I did, as there was some setting up to do, with fetching my old laptop and bringing in some party food.
I tried for a more glamorous look seeing as it was the Christmas Party. Fancy false eyelashes, a smoky eye and my new clothes. Nails were red and glittered, because why the Hell not. Once downstairs, there was time to catch up with friends and have some party nibbles. It was great to see some familiar faces and good to see Pat up and about, given her recent illness.
|Not usually this glam
There was time for a spot of dancing and it had been a while since I’d had the pleasure. It’s funny in a way, that my chances to cut some rug, are more limited. I suppose that’s the thing with not going out, so much, although that’s not something I miss. Dancing yes, being out all hours, not so much.
It was also a while since I’d danced in high heels, so it took me a song, or two, to remember. Maybe it’s like riding a bike? 🙂 The other thing about being a part timer, is remembering when you should dance like a bloke and when you shouldn’t. The only way I can remember it, is flats equals lead with the shoulders. Heels means lead with the hips. 🙂
Once or twice I caught sight of my shadow and – like the photo to the right (thanks Val) – when you don’t see your male features, somehow, everything seems to go right. Maybe it’s the lighting, the make-up, the clothes and the effort you put in; that’s when it’s awesome being trans. Those, are the moments when you look, smile and are happy with who you are. A very nice unexpected Christmas present.
That’s the last meeting and quite probably my last outing this year, but what a night!