All the World's a Stage

Ten days until my next night out, only the second in Lucy's history. But things are looking up, there will be at least 3 nights out in the next month or so, possibly 4, but as all of them involve a fair bit of travelling and hotel expenses then 3 might have to do. My first night out in Edinburgh was really lovely, just eating out and wandering about and having a quiet drink. That's all I want to do really, just go out and do normal things, but the next few nights should be a bit different and I'm looking forward to them just as much as the first. I'll be meeting Cathy and Pippa in Manchester, maybe others too, for food, drinks and then on to a club. Then I'm hoping to meet up with a few girls, either at the Wayout club or at Transmission in London, and also at the Transmission second birthday party in Manchester. Each night should be quite a party. It'll be nice to be surrounded by people like myself; in a way it's quite sad that I'd never met any girls like myself before I went out with Cathy, at least none that have admitted to it. I have actually been out dressed in public before, several times in fact, but always on the premise that it was fancy dress and therefore just for fun - "a bit of a laugh". Needless to say I made quite an effort, perhaps too much, but it always felt good.

I used to play in a band, very popular in the area, and we had several nights during our long history where we dressed up, none of them suggested by me; I often wonder just how many men, including my friends, secretly enjoy dressing in women's clothes, more than are prepared to admit I'm sure. Perhaps one of the best nights we had was when we all dressed as schoolgirls, I'm not especially fetishistic, if there is such a word, but school uniforms I quite like, though I don't intend to go into any amateur psychology on that one at the moment. I remember distinctly overhearing one guy during our break, pointing at me and saying to his girlfriend, "He looks good, he's got better legs than you..." You should have seen her face! She scowled at me, or rather at my legs, as I think she agreed with him. I'm sure it wasn't true though, my legs only look good from certain angles. Another thing that struck me that night was how much more the normally cool predatory males in the audience seemed to enjoy themselves, they were dancing on the tables, to the dismay of the management. Perhaps a few secret admirers around too maybe? I've never felt so good on stage; I've never ever felt sexy dressed as a man, quite an alien concept to me in fact. On another night with the band I wore a lovely blue taffeta ballgown, something else I love; oh the luxurious indulgence! I really should stop buying ballgowns, they take up too much space and I'm never going to have anything to wear them for, unless one of you girls wants to invite me out on a posh do. At the time of course, it was a good excuse to buy my first ballgown which was only £11, from a dress agency in town; one needs a good excuse to go into places like that; I can't go shopping without bumping into people I know, and have taken lots of risks, I know I shouldn't, but sometimes I just can't resist it.

Shopping, now there's a good subject. We all love it I'm sure, and most of us probably do more of it than we should for the good of our bank balances, I know I do. My salary is fairly modest, and I only have very small savings to dip into for emergencies. I don't have enough clothes for going out though, so that has to be classed as an emergency. I kind of have a love/hate relationship with shopping though, no not quite hate, just love/feel awkward kind of thing. I've never been able to admit to any shop assistant that what I'm buying is for me, so just try to keep as low a profile as possible. It may take some courage to go out shopping en femme, but maybe one day, when I'm happier with my appearance. My biggest purchase to date was in Edinburgh. The weather forecast was for rain/sleet, thunder and high winds, so I decided a coat might be a good idea, and arrived in time to do some shopping for just that. I fancied a fur coat (fake of course), no idea how much they would be, but wasn't too optimistic. The first shop I went in was a leather shop, all garments made in-house by the Italian owners. I saw just the thing, soft suede and sheepskin longish coat, very nice. Saw the price tag of £1399.00 and turned around to hurry out of the shop, feeling very poverty-stricken. But Fabio the shop assistant caught me and asked me how much I wanted to pay. After some haggling, and heated conversation between him and his brother, in a way that Italians do so well, he agreed to let me have it for £220, but only if I bought it there and then, otherwise it would be £250 if I came back later. He obviously didn't believe I would come back, but I needed to at least have a look in Marks & Spencer. I did go back as Marks's were useless, and he did let me have it for £220, albeit begrudgingly. So that was well over a week's wages for something I wasn't going to wear that often, and as it turned out there was only a light drizzle and slight breeze that evening, but cool enough for the coat to be much needed. It felt wonderful, very feminine and warm and cosy, so it was worth it, and another new experience for me. To actually need a coat for going out was a nice feeling, but wearing it was even better. But summer is almost upon us so now I have to look for suitable clothes for the season, maybe including a light jacket, as British summers can be unpredictable, especially in Manchester. Not long to go now. Hopefully it will be snowing, and I can wear my lovely coat again!