|Catherine's favourite film ought to have|
warned me about her reaction to
cross-dressing. Actually, I think it did...
Anyway, that was the entry I'd planned before today. Today we went as a family to meet some other friends of mine with a similar aged sprog to our daughter. The two of them love playing together as their daughter is slightly older than ours and so they get on like a house on fire. We stayed at their house for a bit and played about with their doll's house, mightily similar to the one that had me weeping, and then the two of them went upstairs to play Sylvanians. Again, this isn't really the point.
A few years ago, before I met my wife, the female of this couple and I had a long chat. Following advice in the previously mentioned online conversation about the motivations for my cross-dressing addiction I invited her round with my first ex-girlfriend to have a chat. Why these two? My ex had already been told by me when I was drunk - I used that as an excuse to tell her and not remember, fully remembering everything. It also allowed for teh cover of the fact that I was drunk and most people believe that drink changes behaviour, so that was convenient. She wasn't going out with me at the time, we'd split up a few months beforehand, this was at University, more on that another time. The female in question, already married to her husband, was asked because we had chatted about gender roles previously and seemed open to the idea of cross-dressing as a valid expression. Furthermore my ex was, and is, CofE flavoured and the female, let's call her Catherine, was Catholic flavoured. I figured there was no better way of getting a cross-section of my own faith's responses to such behaviour without approaching a vicar. Plus they were both females. Catherine seemed to sympathise.
Not long after that, on the online forum that my University friends run for themselves Catherine set herself the challenge of getting me in a dress by the end of the year. Now, she knew full-well that this was a challenge in which she would succeed and that most people would find this unlikely, thus cementing her percieved reputation as someone who could pull off impossible things. I also acquiesed because I would get to wear a dress. I should point out that rumours about my transvestism had surfaced before in this group of friends, not from my ex, and they had previously been encouraging (in my last year of University) but I had denied everything and never done it.
So it was that I went to a small party at Catherine's, everyone drank a lot, and I used the drink as cover to take the 'bet' and deliver. Much merriment, assumption that I did it under duress, and a lovely few hours spent in a very posh frock that Catherine believed, and still does, I suited better than she did. There are photos, I may be able to find them to publish here, I may not. Catherine intimated that I may be able to borrow the frock again to dress or even try others, and even offered her house for such experiments in the future. I was flattered and not a little interested. However, later that year, in a few months in fact, I met my wife and we all know where that went. Catherine had shown my wife the pictures, intimated that I could borrow some of her frocks if my wife was interested and even had a chat with my soon to be wife about cross-dressing. However, it all came to naught. Well, for me anyway.
|This is, in fact, the very hat. It is rather lovely. I think I can|
add 'hat' to my list of things to be obsessed about.
|Oscar Wilde: a knowledge of|
the classics, a keen wit and
money. Prerequisites for