Just a bit about me by way of an intro.
As I'm posting on here, it perhaps goes without saying that I'm a bloke who.has an affinity to wearing skirts. I used to think of myself as a crossdresser but actually what does that even mean. I own all the clothes that I wear so (as Eddie Izzard once said) they are not women's clothes they are my clothes. That being the case, why term me a crossdresser?
It's societies norms that keep me mainly in the closet though I have ventured out in my skirts and my dresses at times but only when I think that all is quiet or if I'm going for a drive in my skirts. Whilst I did (and do) enjoy my trips out, I did feel incredibly anxious and vulnerable. This vulnerability was made worse for me due to negativity from my local community and particularly some idiots who live on my street who would verbally abuse me, spread strange stories about me being a homosexual (actually, no I'm not but what would it matter if I was), about how I am a risk to children and targeting my property with acts of vandalis - especially the car (and I love my cars particularly my Jag). I would wake up every weekend (about 30 years ago) to find the rear wiper had been bent and the remains of an Indian takeaway smeared over parts of the car.
It's particularly strange that I was said to be a risk to children as a part of my role as a mental health practitioner is to protect them from abuse and/or neglect, often from family members. The idiots who were trying to make my life hell were precisely the type of people who would become the subject of a full safeguarding case. Can't go into this though, it's confidential and rightly so.
I first wore a skirt when still in my formative years. Mum was a single parent and needed to work full time and at times there was my sister's skirts waiting to be ironed. I often looked at these and wondered what they felt like to wear. I think I was 11 when I decided to put one on to find out for sure. The rest, as they say, is history. I have been wearing skirts ever since but mainly in private.
Mum didn't know about my skirt wearing until I was age 15 when she found some of the skirts I had made for myself - I had neither the money or the courage to buy ready made skirts at the time. She was not best pleased and warned me not to break her heart. Strange how social norms have such a strong hold on people that an otherwise loving mother should feel that her son wearing a skirt should be so devastating to her.
I was in my late 30's when she next found one of my skirts, she did my laundry and found a little navy mini that had found it's way in the washing. At that time she decided that I was a 'funny fella'.
My elder brother and sister both have their suspicions and fall into the stereotype traps of male wearing skirt = sexual deviant or homosexual. Poor dears
It is only in the past 20 years or so that I have had more freedom to wear skirts whenever I choose which is virtually all the time I'm not at work - it would be to complex wearing skirts to see my patients and have them, people who are quite unwell, have questions put to them about my skirt wearing.
I will at times go on day trips wearing a skirt. Driving about feels much safer that walking about in a skirt. Of course it isn't, it's just how one feels. I know quite a few men do similar and for the same reason.
As one of my patients said quite recently, society has changed an people are more accepting of men wearing skirts, dresses or dressing in what until quite recently would be considered an unacceptable way.
Since becoming a little more affluent (though not rich by even the wildest stretch of the imagination) I have bought lots of skirts/ dresses and the like to the point that it has become an obsession and I now know why women buy so many clothes yet go to the stuffed wardrobes and say they have nothing to wear.
. Seriously though, I'm in the process of slimming down my wardrobe as I have lots of clothes (typically seen as both male and female clothes) that no longer fit me - middle age spread happened and no matter how much I say I will slim down and clothes might fit me again, it just ain't gonna happen.So there you go. A potted intro from - not so sunny - north of Manchester in the North West of England. If you get time, why not put paws to pads and say hi? I tend not to bite - not hard anyway and less frequently than I used to
