new old profile cast rings reviews linkers random notes email layout host

� In this diary, I record my life as a transvestite. Perhaps it will help somebody else, who finds their lifestyle doesn't quite match that endorsed by the 'tranny mafia'. Well, I've been there... and survived. The debriefing starts here.

�loves: All kinds of stuff that society thinks I shouldn't.

�hates: Microsoft. Obviously.

�reads:
secret-motel
artgnome
enfinblue
stepfordtart
ten-oclock
boombasticat
lawliiet
annanotbob
fifidellabon
my-serenade

Lynn Jones
Becky
Samantha

Image-free zone
3:00 p.m. -- 2008-07-24

Call this a tranny's website? This is crap! Where's all the photos?

I am an atypical transvestite; in fact, I don't think I've seen any other website on this subject that hasn't been adorned with countless pictures, and usually a link to a Flickr photostream.

Some of the 'girls' look amazing, I must admit. And others look pretty... awful. (I'm not including any links, now that I've said that.) But it's not a beauty contest for most of these folks... it's just about being the best girl they can be. So, they include pictures, and all are careful to find something nice to say when new images are posted. A gaggle of transvestites is just about the most very polite grouping of human beings that can be imagined.

I'm reluctant to show you pictures of myself for a number of reasons.

Firstly, it seems incredibly narcissistic. Everybody look at me! Here I am in my latest purchase; with my new makeup style; in my false nails, after an hour's work... whatever. Nah. It's just not me.

Secondly, I wouldn't be satisfied with the results. I'm a perfectionist, and (with the eye of a reasonably competent amateur photographer) I have to say that I look more than a little strange as a girl. So there'd be nothing to post. I actually destroyed every photo and negative from the Lucy era, partly because I didn't look good, and also...

Third reason: confidentiality. I've worked for or been contracted by the government a good few times. While I can assure you that I'm a happily married, monogamous, heterosexual guy, transvestism screams "I am mentally unstable / I could be blackmailed for secrets / I cannot be trusted" to the uninitiated. I've been 'positively vetted' (which sounds painful but actually means they check if you have any skeletons - or communists - in your family closet) but if 'they' ever get a whiff of this harmless pastime, I'll soon have some some Rupert in a regimental tie telling me my services are "no longer required, old chap."

I could go in for one of those 'decapitated' photos - or even headless videos of the type so beloved of the YouTube set - but I'm not really an exhibitionist (reason one again, I suppose).

As if a fourth reason were needed, remember that I don't actually own any girlie outerwear anymore. When I eventually realised that I'm not a full-on cross-dresser, but 'merely' an underwear fetishist, I threw out just about everything else. And you really don't want to see me in a bra and pants.

However, I do regret that the result of this is that none of the people I have corresponded with can actually imagine my face when they read my comments, or articles. Sorry about that. You'll just have to think of this as being life the difference between radio and television, or like an old-fashioned newspaper in the days before images were the norm.

So stick around, 'cause I might miss you... if you grow tired of this lack of visuals...

previous - next

|