Skydiving
Posted: Mon Oct 15, 2018 2:09 pm
One activity that would cause me great anxiety is Skydiving – even the mere thought of it: deliberately leaping into an unknown environment, not fully knowing if you will emerge unscathed from the event. Not as dramatic, the idea of wearing a Skirt or Dress outside the comfort and safety of my own home is comparably daunting – but without the safety net that a Parachute would otherwise provide in Skydiving.
Often, I enviously read of those here that openly wear Skirts or Dresses when outside for all the public to view, without apparent care for any prejudice that might be directed at them. I’ve long believed that I could never do that. While many Men struggle for spousal acceptance of true clothing equality – and I’ve experienced my fair share of that too – some guys have not only achieved such spousal acceptance but have actively demonstrated their courage in exhibiting such clothing equality outside the home. I admire those that have done so.
Even so, last month I accomplished what, for me, was the equivalent of Skydiving – metaphorically speaking: not literally. That is, for the first time, I ventured outside the comfort and security of my home, fully dressed in a free-style fashion. Why now?
By year’s-end I will reach my 60th birthday. Sporadically, I’ve been wearing Stockings and Tights since I was 7 year’s old. I’ve been wearing Tights regularly for the past 10 years. During that whole time, I snatched the exceptionally rare chance of trying-on clothes from the alternative side of the aisle. Invariably, these were never in my true size. Like others here, there’s not the slightest deviant sentiment from dressing in a manner that is both relaxing and comfortable. Today, no one is likely to accuse Women of being deviant in their wearing of clothes from the other side of the aisle. During the past 5 years, my wardrobe has steadily broadened, and is now equally populated by both sides of the clothing aisle – and I routinely mix and match such clothing items.
Last year, the notion of actually going outside, dressed in a Skirt began to infiltrate my consciousness – especially after I had purchased a smart Midnight Blue Single-Breasted Coat from Bonmarche. Instinctively, my otherwise accepting Wife freaked-out big time on hearing this plan. It was one thing ‘dressing up’ (as she calls it) around the house, but this was too much. To make the situation a near-reality, I tested the water. I had donned a full freestyle-fashion outfit, and had presented myself for her attention before going outside one evening. My idea was not to give her too much time to think it over. It’s advisable not to ask for an opinion but to notify on intentions. If you ask for an opinion you will get one, whether you like it or not. That’s how I overcame my spousal issue on my routine hosiery wearing. Over the next few weeks we occasionally talked about it further. With such a milestone birthday ahead this was something I wanted to achieve in directly marking the event (albeit unconventional). I was giving her advance notification. Explicitly, I was resolute on what I was planning. Once she ‘got her head around the idea’ – and that I wasn’t going to immediately fulfil my ambition – she said that she had come to terms with it – but such an ‘idea’ had yet to materialise in ‘reality’.
That was some 10 months ago, and I wasn’t planning on venturing outside ‘fully dressed’ (as my Wife also refers to it) for another 2 months. Even so, it was only a ‘notion’ – an ‘idea’ at the very least. Would I actually go through with it? Would I bail out at the last moment, faced with the incredulity of actually doing it? What if someone I knew saw me dressed like that? How would they react? What would I do if they did see me? In theory, I had often meditated on the planned route that I would take. I live in a large suburb within a large metropolitan city. Some may call me fainthearted for not doing so, but if I did venture outdoors I concluded that it would be at night and not during daylight hours. For now, I’m definitely not that courageous.
When I awoke that Friday morning I hadn’t made any predetermined plans for the day ahead. In my near 40-year relationship my Wife sometimes makes known her liking on any given attire that I wear. On that day, my Wife advocated a specific outfit. This included my Dorothy Perkins Navy Bodycon Dress, my mid-length Navy Cardigan by George, my M&S Navy 30 Denier Semi-Opaque Tights (I would have chosen 20 Denier Pewter Tights by John Lewis instead), plus my Navy Suede Court Shoes by Hotter. I refer to them as ‘my’ clothes because ‘I’ bought them. They are in ‘my’ size, and they belong to ‘me’ – not anyone else. Habitually, I like to dress in a co-ordinated manner, and in a ‘conservative’ style that is age appropriate. It just so happens that my Wife had co-ordinated my clothing on that particular day.
It was almost the end of September. It had been a very pleasant day with nothing but clear-blue sunny skies above. Although daytime temperatures were akin to late Spring, night-time temperatures were decidedly chilly as befits early Autumn. By mid to late afternoon, for no apparent reason, I resolved to undertake my objective today. I cannot explain why the notion occurred to me on that specific day. I wasn’t completely certain about it, but it was more likely. I kept the plan from my Wife until the last possible moment. That was more about consideration for her and to ease any anxiety on her part rather than mine. Even at early dinner I hadn’t completely determined to go through with it. I was more interested in eating.
Shortly after dinner, while still dusk outside, I initially retreated upstairs as I often do to change and settle-in for the evening ahead. Subconsciously, as I entered the bedroom, I casually retrieved my Bonmarche Single Breasted Coat from the Wardrobe, my matching Bonmarche micro-fleece Gloves, and my Eastex mixed Navy and White foil Scarf. I also picked-up my Clarks’ Cross-Body Handbag. No pockets necessitate a Handbag (to hold my house keys and iPhone). Altogether, it complimented my age-related ‘snow on the roof’ hairstyle. With quiet determination I headed downstairs into the lounge where my Wife was watching television. “Why are you dressed like that?” was her surprised greeting. “I’ve decided to go for a walk”, I calmly responded. I wasn’t asking for her permission nor for her opinion. I was informing her on my intent. At this point, I didn’t receive any message of encouragement – not that I expected one - but instead was surprised by her caution on how risky it is for a Woman to be walking alone at night – and how worried she would be if anything happened to me. I didn’t facilitate further opportunity to talk me out of it. I was now on autopilot as I promptly headed towards the front hallway lobby and the front door.
It was still dusk. A perfect balance between daylight and night-time. It was within the late rush hour period too. Next, as I switched-off the external security lights (so that no-one could see me leave or return), and as I then reached for the porch door, my next-door neighbour unexpectantly arrived home, car headlights blazing. I quickly retreated, my evening walk looked to be scuppered before it could even begin. I waited 5 minutes or so for him to completely go inside, as he is notorious for taking his time. It was getting darker by the minute. Then, eventually, the coast was clear.
I really was on autopilot. I didn’t have any emotions either way on if this was a good idea or not. Single-minded, I opened both external doors, swiftly exited the building and walked down the steps to pavement level. I was well and truly without a safety net. This was the point at which I might have entirely lost my courage and bolted back into the house as fast as I could. I didn’t. Holding securely onto my Handbag strap with one hand as a security comforter I strode onwards, meandering throughout the well-populated Avenue. There were no palpitations on my part. No elevated heart rate. No anxiety. No fear. No embarrassment. It’s not like somebody had forced me into a Dress for the first time against my will. I was used to dressing this way – just not outdoors. Even so, the sensation of clear cold night air on my legs was immediate and palpable, even though I was wearing Semi-Opaque Tights. This feeling was unlike wearing stealthy sheer Nude coloured Tights under shorts when I sometimes ventured out into my rear garden during the Summer. This everyday commonplace and unconscious experience for Women was completely new to me. In hindsight, it didn’t completely permeate up my knee length Dress as might be expected. Had I ventured outside at the time of my forthcoming birthday, I had planned to wear my Clarks’ Black knee-length Boots alongside much thicker Black 100 Denier M&S Winter Tights – plus my Eastex Cossack style Hat. By then, the Winter weather would have been far less amenable to wearing the Court Shoes that I was now wearing.
I didn’t have that much time to think about this new sensation. Why? The narrow block heels on my Court Shoes were revealing a disproportionate amount of noise as I walked on hard Tarmac. This doesn’t happen when walking on the tiled floors at home. To my Ears, it resembled stomping on the pavement like a Jackhammer. Their volume level was turned up to 11. Surely, this was loud enough to bring everyone out of their homes to see what all the noise was all about! I’m done for already! No. All was fine. I remained alone. At that point, I stopped walking in full ‘Man strides’- taking a ‘shallower’ walking style instead - that was appropriate in wearing such a close-fitting Dress. I had to abruptly forget how I ordinarily went about my business in the confines of my home, but in a manner that didn’t draw unnecessary attention. It was time to savour and appreciate the experience, without undue haste.
By chance, I was covertly dressed all in Navy, that merged anonymously into the evening light – albeit one illuminated by bright LED street lighting. I hadn’t planned my attire that way. It was just coincidence. As I walked through the multi-veined Avenue I headed towards the main road. My confidence increased as I strolled. We are all used to checking ourselves in the mirror at home to see what we look like, and dressed as we like. Outside, I was wryly thinking ‘where’s my personal photographer when I need one?’ I had no opportunity to fully appreciate if I looked as confident as I felt at that moment. Sadly, I wouldn’t have a record of my achievement. Not that I own one, but carrying a selfie-stick in my Handbag wouldn’t have helped. Had I used such a device it would have drawn unjustified attention: why would an elderly lady be taking selfies of herself at night time?
A rapid succession of cars passed up and down the main road. The street lights there were much brighter. Approaching the corner kerb, a couple (Man and Woman) were intently heading towards me to my right at close quarter – just a few short metres away. Effectively, I was dressed incognito. In this light it wasn’t obvious that I was a Man ‘dressed up in Women’s clothes’. This was a clear example of real-world ‘cognitive dissonance’. Evidently, I hadn’t registered on their immediate radar. I hadn’t abruptly jarred them out of their conversation, either. Surprisingly unfazed, I walked onwards across the busy main road. I walked the full length of the downhill Drive ahead, past multiple homes, followed by the equally lengthy Lane that intersected it, completely on my own. No one else was there. Unhurried, I eventually circled back on myself to the main road some distance away. The side roads were more dimly lit, but the house frontages were closer to the roadside. The lounge lights in several of these homes illumined my path. Their curtains were undrawn. At any moment, I thought, I will be caught out for sure: will some of them emerge from their homes to gaze on this strange manifestation? Once more, I need not have concerned myself. Nothing happened.
Nothing happened when I crossed the main road once more. Despite numerous cars passing from either direction, none of the drivers were startled nor distracted by my unorthodox appearance. Nor did they crash their vehicles on seeing me. Neither did anyone stop to verbally abuse me. I was just another person going about their normal lawful business. My long walk continued unabated. This was another Lane of some considerable length. Eventually, I noticed a shadowy figure approaching me from the opposite direction. Unmistakably, it was a Dog walker. As he drew closer I discerned that he was an older Man like myself. As is convention these days, passing strangers do not acknowledge each other. This was no exception, and he walked by as though I didn’t exist. Another illustration of cognitive dissonance.
At home, when it gets dark, I always draw the curtains: at a basic security level I don’t want to reveal to anyone who passes-by on the nature of my home contents (let alone on what I’m wearing). The living rooms in most homes on the Lane where I was now located were brightly lit. Their close proximity to the pavement meant that I could clearly hear the television shows they were watching. My presence immediately outside their dwelling was probably little more than a passing silhouette. Over time, sufficient individuals must have equally passed by their premises for them not to be alerted by such a presence. Certainly, no one was about to chase me branding pitch forks, shouting ‘freak!’ The local Police Station happened to be located relatively close by. It’s plausible that I might have crossed paths with Police personnel making their way back to the Station… Who am I kidding: I couldn’t recall the last time I saw an active Police presence anywhere near my home.
By now I was steadily approaching the route back to my home from completely the opposite direction from where I first set out. Another elderly Dog walker slowly approached me as I made my way back home through the Close that is enroute to the rear of my home Avenue. The resolve is to walk at a steady slow pace, without giving any subliminal acknowledgment that this isn’t anything else but a ‘normal’ encounter. Again, no reaction. I had been invisible to him. Had I been wearing my normal clothing I doubt that my presence would have been acknowledged – such is modern society.
On the final home run, so to speak, I walked upwards on one of the many off-shoots in my Avenue. Another two left turns and I would arrive home – except there was a challenging obstacle ahead of me: one that I hadn’t considered in advance. Undeniably, this time I would be caught out!
Half-way up the hill, on the opposite side of the relatively narrow Avenue was a group of young Women socialising outside one of the houses. I perceived they were aged in their late teens or very early twenties. In my peripheral vision, I estimated that there were 6 of them at least. They were being particularly noisy, chatty and boisterous. I stared straight ahead, gripping tighter onto my Handbag, not wishing to draw any attention to myself by not glancing in their overall direction - no matter how difficult that was. One of them was bound to look up and see me. Certainly, they would instantly call on the attention of all their friends to the spectacle noisily walking on the opposite side of the Avenue. Would I be rapidly flanked by a hoard of camera phones, with recorded details of the encounter posted online later that evening?
No. Nothing happened. Not an untoward glance in my direction from any one of them: they were far too busy, engrossed in their own little world. How is it possible for such a large group of Women to simultaneously conduct multiple conversations without individual voices being drowned out, and still be able to understand each other? Not even my perceptively loud heels were enough to compete with all of that. I must have appeared to them as being just an elderly lady walking past them on her way home – albeit a tall one at that (I’m 5’ 10”). For them, there was nothing to witness out of the ordinary. Then again, I was dressed appropriately. I wasn’t wearing vibrant colours that would have appeared at odds with a stereotype of what an otherwise elderly Woman might normally be wearing at that time of night.
I turned the corner one final time. I took my keys out of my Handbag and casually walked up the steps to my front door. I deliberately did not turn around to check if any immediate neighbours had seen me. On turning the key into the lock, the door readily opened and I was safely back home once more. I hadn’t realised just how cold it had been outside. The difference between house temperature and outside, even though the heating wasn’t switched on, was significant. Given the layers that I was wearing I soon became too warm. That said, my Tights clearly weren’t adequate to ward off the outside cold air, as my legs were now smarting with the rapid change from cold to the inside warmth.
I paused for a moment. ‘Oh, was that it?’, I pondered. I suppose because I couldn’t readily see what I had been wearing that I wasn’t too self-conscious on what I was wearing during my adventure – which must have been almost 2 miles in distance. “I’m back”, I quietly announced as I entered the living room. “How did it go”, my Wife genuinely asked. “Did you meet anyone”. I responded, “I just went for a walk. It was good”. I expected my Wife to press me for further details but she didn’t.
I patiently waited for over a week for my Wife to quiz me on precisely where I went, and if anyone reacted to me dressed as I was. Eventually, I couldn’t keep it to myself, and willingly proffered a résumé of my adventure. She didn’t seem unfazed by my story, and didn’t offer any significant reaction. Maybe I should be grateful. She could have negatively reacted instead. It was like it never transpired. Inexplicably, I feel quite indifferent about it. Was it ‘liberating’ or ‘exciting’. It definitely wasn’t the latter, and I’m completely unclear about the former. I was simply wearing clothes. What’s exciting about that? Then again, if I truly believed in clothing equality then wearing any combination of clothes should be, well, normal. Yet, I strongly doubt that someone else who had only recently started dressing in a similar fashion would have remained so composed. I wouldn’t advocate it for a novice. Notwithstanding, I remain surprised by my calmness on my successful adventure. Neither am I thinking that ‘I must do it again, as soon as possible’. I certainly didn’t experience any type of adrenalin rush during my walk, dressed as I was. Probably, I might venture outside again as my birthday imminently draws even closer: simply to commemorate the actual milestone event. That said, the idea and personal resolve to do it for the first time again simply isn’t there. You can’t dip your feet into the same river twice. It’s similar to setting yourself a given task: you’ve undertaken that task, you’ve accomplished your objective, and you don’t really need to do it again. How odd.
Often, I enviously read of those here that openly wear Skirts or Dresses when outside for all the public to view, without apparent care for any prejudice that might be directed at them. I’ve long believed that I could never do that. While many Men struggle for spousal acceptance of true clothing equality – and I’ve experienced my fair share of that too – some guys have not only achieved such spousal acceptance but have actively demonstrated their courage in exhibiting such clothing equality outside the home. I admire those that have done so.
Even so, last month I accomplished what, for me, was the equivalent of Skydiving – metaphorically speaking: not literally. That is, for the first time, I ventured outside the comfort and security of my home, fully dressed in a free-style fashion. Why now?
By year’s-end I will reach my 60th birthday. Sporadically, I’ve been wearing Stockings and Tights since I was 7 year’s old. I’ve been wearing Tights regularly for the past 10 years. During that whole time, I snatched the exceptionally rare chance of trying-on clothes from the alternative side of the aisle. Invariably, these were never in my true size. Like others here, there’s not the slightest deviant sentiment from dressing in a manner that is both relaxing and comfortable. Today, no one is likely to accuse Women of being deviant in their wearing of clothes from the other side of the aisle. During the past 5 years, my wardrobe has steadily broadened, and is now equally populated by both sides of the clothing aisle – and I routinely mix and match such clothing items.
Last year, the notion of actually going outside, dressed in a Skirt began to infiltrate my consciousness – especially after I had purchased a smart Midnight Blue Single-Breasted Coat from Bonmarche. Instinctively, my otherwise accepting Wife freaked-out big time on hearing this plan. It was one thing ‘dressing up’ (as she calls it) around the house, but this was too much. To make the situation a near-reality, I tested the water. I had donned a full freestyle-fashion outfit, and had presented myself for her attention before going outside one evening. My idea was not to give her too much time to think it over. It’s advisable not to ask for an opinion but to notify on intentions. If you ask for an opinion you will get one, whether you like it or not. That’s how I overcame my spousal issue on my routine hosiery wearing. Over the next few weeks we occasionally talked about it further. With such a milestone birthday ahead this was something I wanted to achieve in directly marking the event (albeit unconventional). I was giving her advance notification. Explicitly, I was resolute on what I was planning. Once she ‘got her head around the idea’ – and that I wasn’t going to immediately fulfil my ambition – she said that she had come to terms with it – but such an ‘idea’ had yet to materialise in ‘reality’.
That was some 10 months ago, and I wasn’t planning on venturing outside ‘fully dressed’ (as my Wife also refers to it) for another 2 months. Even so, it was only a ‘notion’ – an ‘idea’ at the very least. Would I actually go through with it? Would I bail out at the last moment, faced with the incredulity of actually doing it? What if someone I knew saw me dressed like that? How would they react? What would I do if they did see me? In theory, I had often meditated on the planned route that I would take. I live in a large suburb within a large metropolitan city. Some may call me fainthearted for not doing so, but if I did venture outdoors I concluded that it would be at night and not during daylight hours. For now, I’m definitely not that courageous.
When I awoke that Friday morning I hadn’t made any predetermined plans for the day ahead. In my near 40-year relationship my Wife sometimes makes known her liking on any given attire that I wear. On that day, my Wife advocated a specific outfit. This included my Dorothy Perkins Navy Bodycon Dress, my mid-length Navy Cardigan by George, my M&S Navy 30 Denier Semi-Opaque Tights (I would have chosen 20 Denier Pewter Tights by John Lewis instead), plus my Navy Suede Court Shoes by Hotter. I refer to them as ‘my’ clothes because ‘I’ bought them. They are in ‘my’ size, and they belong to ‘me’ – not anyone else. Habitually, I like to dress in a co-ordinated manner, and in a ‘conservative’ style that is age appropriate. It just so happens that my Wife had co-ordinated my clothing on that particular day.
It was almost the end of September. It had been a very pleasant day with nothing but clear-blue sunny skies above. Although daytime temperatures were akin to late Spring, night-time temperatures were decidedly chilly as befits early Autumn. By mid to late afternoon, for no apparent reason, I resolved to undertake my objective today. I cannot explain why the notion occurred to me on that specific day. I wasn’t completely certain about it, but it was more likely. I kept the plan from my Wife until the last possible moment. That was more about consideration for her and to ease any anxiety on her part rather than mine. Even at early dinner I hadn’t completely determined to go through with it. I was more interested in eating.
Shortly after dinner, while still dusk outside, I initially retreated upstairs as I often do to change and settle-in for the evening ahead. Subconsciously, as I entered the bedroom, I casually retrieved my Bonmarche Single Breasted Coat from the Wardrobe, my matching Bonmarche micro-fleece Gloves, and my Eastex mixed Navy and White foil Scarf. I also picked-up my Clarks’ Cross-Body Handbag. No pockets necessitate a Handbag (to hold my house keys and iPhone). Altogether, it complimented my age-related ‘snow on the roof’ hairstyle. With quiet determination I headed downstairs into the lounge where my Wife was watching television. “Why are you dressed like that?” was her surprised greeting. “I’ve decided to go for a walk”, I calmly responded. I wasn’t asking for her permission nor for her opinion. I was informing her on my intent. At this point, I didn’t receive any message of encouragement – not that I expected one - but instead was surprised by her caution on how risky it is for a Woman to be walking alone at night – and how worried she would be if anything happened to me. I didn’t facilitate further opportunity to talk me out of it. I was now on autopilot as I promptly headed towards the front hallway lobby and the front door.
It was still dusk. A perfect balance between daylight and night-time. It was within the late rush hour period too. Next, as I switched-off the external security lights (so that no-one could see me leave or return), and as I then reached for the porch door, my next-door neighbour unexpectantly arrived home, car headlights blazing. I quickly retreated, my evening walk looked to be scuppered before it could even begin. I waited 5 minutes or so for him to completely go inside, as he is notorious for taking his time. It was getting darker by the minute. Then, eventually, the coast was clear.
I really was on autopilot. I didn’t have any emotions either way on if this was a good idea or not. Single-minded, I opened both external doors, swiftly exited the building and walked down the steps to pavement level. I was well and truly without a safety net. This was the point at which I might have entirely lost my courage and bolted back into the house as fast as I could. I didn’t. Holding securely onto my Handbag strap with one hand as a security comforter I strode onwards, meandering throughout the well-populated Avenue. There were no palpitations on my part. No elevated heart rate. No anxiety. No fear. No embarrassment. It’s not like somebody had forced me into a Dress for the first time against my will. I was used to dressing this way – just not outdoors. Even so, the sensation of clear cold night air on my legs was immediate and palpable, even though I was wearing Semi-Opaque Tights. This feeling was unlike wearing stealthy sheer Nude coloured Tights under shorts when I sometimes ventured out into my rear garden during the Summer. This everyday commonplace and unconscious experience for Women was completely new to me. In hindsight, it didn’t completely permeate up my knee length Dress as might be expected. Had I ventured outside at the time of my forthcoming birthday, I had planned to wear my Clarks’ Black knee-length Boots alongside much thicker Black 100 Denier M&S Winter Tights – plus my Eastex Cossack style Hat. By then, the Winter weather would have been far less amenable to wearing the Court Shoes that I was now wearing.
I didn’t have that much time to think about this new sensation. Why? The narrow block heels on my Court Shoes were revealing a disproportionate amount of noise as I walked on hard Tarmac. This doesn’t happen when walking on the tiled floors at home. To my Ears, it resembled stomping on the pavement like a Jackhammer. Their volume level was turned up to 11. Surely, this was loud enough to bring everyone out of their homes to see what all the noise was all about! I’m done for already! No. All was fine. I remained alone. At that point, I stopped walking in full ‘Man strides’- taking a ‘shallower’ walking style instead - that was appropriate in wearing such a close-fitting Dress. I had to abruptly forget how I ordinarily went about my business in the confines of my home, but in a manner that didn’t draw unnecessary attention. It was time to savour and appreciate the experience, without undue haste.
By chance, I was covertly dressed all in Navy, that merged anonymously into the evening light – albeit one illuminated by bright LED street lighting. I hadn’t planned my attire that way. It was just coincidence. As I walked through the multi-veined Avenue I headed towards the main road. My confidence increased as I strolled. We are all used to checking ourselves in the mirror at home to see what we look like, and dressed as we like. Outside, I was wryly thinking ‘where’s my personal photographer when I need one?’ I had no opportunity to fully appreciate if I looked as confident as I felt at that moment. Sadly, I wouldn’t have a record of my achievement. Not that I own one, but carrying a selfie-stick in my Handbag wouldn’t have helped. Had I used such a device it would have drawn unjustified attention: why would an elderly lady be taking selfies of herself at night time?
A rapid succession of cars passed up and down the main road. The street lights there were much brighter. Approaching the corner kerb, a couple (Man and Woman) were intently heading towards me to my right at close quarter – just a few short metres away. Effectively, I was dressed incognito. In this light it wasn’t obvious that I was a Man ‘dressed up in Women’s clothes’. This was a clear example of real-world ‘cognitive dissonance’. Evidently, I hadn’t registered on their immediate radar. I hadn’t abruptly jarred them out of their conversation, either. Surprisingly unfazed, I walked onwards across the busy main road. I walked the full length of the downhill Drive ahead, past multiple homes, followed by the equally lengthy Lane that intersected it, completely on my own. No one else was there. Unhurried, I eventually circled back on myself to the main road some distance away. The side roads were more dimly lit, but the house frontages were closer to the roadside. The lounge lights in several of these homes illumined my path. Their curtains were undrawn. At any moment, I thought, I will be caught out for sure: will some of them emerge from their homes to gaze on this strange manifestation? Once more, I need not have concerned myself. Nothing happened.
Nothing happened when I crossed the main road once more. Despite numerous cars passing from either direction, none of the drivers were startled nor distracted by my unorthodox appearance. Nor did they crash their vehicles on seeing me. Neither did anyone stop to verbally abuse me. I was just another person going about their normal lawful business. My long walk continued unabated. This was another Lane of some considerable length. Eventually, I noticed a shadowy figure approaching me from the opposite direction. Unmistakably, it was a Dog walker. As he drew closer I discerned that he was an older Man like myself. As is convention these days, passing strangers do not acknowledge each other. This was no exception, and he walked by as though I didn’t exist. Another illustration of cognitive dissonance.
At home, when it gets dark, I always draw the curtains: at a basic security level I don’t want to reveal to anyone who passes-by on the nature of my home contents (let alone on what I’m wearing). The living rooms in most homes on the Lane where I was now located were brightly lit. Their close proximity to the pavement meant that I could clearly hear the television shows they were watching. My presence immediately outside their dwelling was probably little more than a passing silhouette. Over time, sufficient individuals must have equally passed by their premises for them not to be alerted by such a presence. Certainly, no one was about to chase me branding pitch forks, shouting ‘freak!’ The local Police Station happened to be located relatively close by. It’s plausible that I might have crossed paths with Police personnel making their way back to the Station… Who am I kidding: I couldn’t recall the last time I saw an active Police presence anywhere near my home.
By now I was steadily approaching the route back to my home from completely the opposite direction from where I first set out. Another elderly Dog walker slowly approached me as I made my way back home through the Close that is enroute to the rear of my home Avenue. The resolve is to walk at a steady slow pace, without giving any subliminal acknowledgment that this isn’t anything else but a ‘normal’ encounter. Again, no reaction. I had been invisible to him. Had I been wearing my normal clothing I doubt that my presence would have been acknowledged – such is modern society.
On the final home run, so to speak, I walked upwards on one of the many off-shoots in my Avenue. Another two left turns and I would arrive home – except there was a challenging obstacle ahead of me: one that I hadn’t considered in advance. Undeniably, this time I would be caught out!
Half-way up the hill, on the opposite side of the relatively narrow Avenue was a group of young Women socialising outside one of the houses. I perceived they were aged in their late teens or very early twenties. In my peripheral vision, I estimated that there were 6 of them at least. They were being particularly noisy, chatty and boisterous. I stared straight ahead, gripping tighter onto my Handbag, not wishing to draw any attention to myself by not glancing in their overall direction - no matter how difficult that was. One of them was bound to look up and see me. Certainly, they would instantly call on the attention of all their friends to the spectacle noisily walking on the opposite side of the Avenue. Would I be rapidly flanked by a hoard of camera phones, with recorded details of the encounter posted online later that evening?
No. Nothing happened. Not an untoward glance in my direction from any one of them: they were far too busy, engrossed in their own little world. How is it possible for such a large group of Women to simultaneously conduct multiple conversations without individual voices being drowned out, and still be able to understand each other? Not even my perceptively loud heels were enough to compete with all of that. I must have appeared to them as being just an elderly lady walking past them on her way home – albeit a tall one at that (I’m 5’ 10”). For them, there was nothing to witness out of the ordinary. Then again, I was dressed appropriately. I wasn’t wearing vibrant colours that would have appeared at odds with a stereotype of what an otherwise elderly Woman might normally be wearing at that time of night.
I turned the corner one final time. I took my keys out of my Handbag and casually walked up the steps to my front door. I deliberately did not turn around to check if any immediate neighbours had seen me. On turning the key into the lock, the door readily opened and I was safely back home once more. I hadn’t realised just how cold it had been outside. The difference between house temperature and outside, even though the heating wasn’t switched on, was significant. Given the layers that I was wearing I soon became too warm. That said, my Tights clearly weren’t adequate to ward off the outside cold air, as my legs were now smarting with the rapid change from cold to the inside warmth.
I paused for a moment. ‘Oh, was that it?’, I pondered. I suppose because I couldn’t readily see what I had been wearing that I wasn’t too self-conscious on what I was wearing during my adventure – which must have been almost 2 miles in distance. “I’m back”, I quietly announced as I entered the living room. “How did it go”, my Wife genuinely asked. “Did you meet anyone”. I responded, “I just went for a walk. It was good”. I expected my Wife to press me for further details but she didn’t.
I patiently waited for over a week for my Wife to quiz me on precisely where I went, and if anyone reacted to me dressed as I was. Eventually, I couldn’t keep it to myself, and willingly proffered a résumé of my adventure. She didn’t seem unfazed by my story, and didn’t offer any significant reaction. Maybe I should be grateful. She could have negatively reacted instead. It was like it never transpired. Inexplicably, I feel quite indifferent about it. Was it ‘liberating’ or ‘exciting’. It definitely wasn’t the latter, and I’m completely unclear about the former. I was simply wearing clothes. What’s exciting about that? Then again, if I truly believed in clothing equality then wearing any combination of clothes should be, well, normal. Yet, I strongly doubt that someone else who had only recently started dressing in a similar fashion would have remained so composed. I wouldn’t advocate it for a novice. Notwithstanding, I remain surprised by my calmness on my successful adventure. Neither am I thinking that ‘I must do it again, as soon as possible’. I certainly didn’t experience any type of adrenalin rush during my walk, dressed as I was. Probably, I might venture outside again as my birthday imminently draws even closer: simply to commemorate the actual milestone event. That said, the idea and personal resolve to do it for the first time again simply isn’t there. You can’t dip your feet into the same river twice. It’s similar to setting yourself a given task: you’ve undertaken that task, you’ve accomplished your objective, and you don’t really need to do it again. How odd.
typical dark colours, the boldest I've gone is floral, or a white pencil skirt, but it is thin so don't wear it often because of knicker lines if I have no slip. Soon you will be visiting shopping malls and galleries like JeffB! 
The fear comes from us, aside from some girls taking my picture, I've not encoutered much problems, as either people aren't bothered as in years gone by. With more Trans awareness, I think people aren't so quick to be negative. Many of us may not want to come under that umbrella so to speak, but it may afford us easier passage and acceptance in the wider world. The sky didn't fall in, the world continues, yet the first time returning home, I had the same sense of anticlimax... I think we can expect too much, often negative responses. 