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Transvestite
Favorite Look:
General / Everyday wear
"The deeper you get, the sweeter the pain"
Always start with a quote, see. It shows a soupçon of one's cultural hinterland and if the source is recognised it establishes common ground.
Anyway, away with this "ooo, aren't I intelligent and ever so learned?" meta-profiling gubbins. Hello! I'm Amy, a simple country girl from the flatlands of East Cambridgeshire.
I was born at a precociously early age and have been dressing pretty much since day one, when a kindly nurse wrapped me in swaddling clothes after first slapping my bare arse so hard that, like Alexander of Macedon when told he had no more worlds to conquer, I wept salt tears. Beautiful in its way, although sadly wasted on a newborn.
One jests, of course. See what I did there? "Dressing" isn't really a gender specific verb. Oh I know we pretend it is, we gender bending deviants, but in truth female attire came later; I started squeezing into my mum's heels in my early teens, which is sadly longer ago than is politic to admit. Tempus fugit, as my old Latin master would have it. He was full of pithy sayings, "Don't tell your parents, or the puppies die", that was another of his. Strange chap, actually; went to prison for buggering a minor. I think it was the coal dust that alerted the authorities.
Crappy jokes aside, my life began when I celebrated my last birthday (which, for the slower readers out there in Chix land, means I'm 40; feck, how did that happen?). I've had the usual cycles of purge and denial which may be familiar to many of you of the tranvestical persuasion and needn't detain us here unduly. I've been in the closet so long I've started to relate to my captor (Stocking-home Syndrome) but I'm still hoping to one day grow a pair of balls (pretty ironic in the circumstances, really) & poke a stiletto out into the big wide world.
Physically speaking I'm quite tall (185cm, or 6' 1" in old money), of medium build (for a geezer; which is obviously more substantial where it comes to being a lay-dee and that), have (myopic) brown eyes that are occasionally double-glazed and I'm a natural brunette but this is obscured by whichever syrup I happen to be sporting. Not sure I have enough of a handle on transvesting to be able to claim an actual "look", but I love high heels, leather & shiny stuff generally so I suppose I'm edging towards the fetishy end of things.
What I'm not is one of those trannies who calls herself "pretty", "sexy" or "convincing" because, heck, the pictures are there at the bottom to give lie to such monsterous porkies and, in any event, I'm frightfully English & it's just not done to blow one's own trumpet. Although I nearly broke my back as a teenager trying... EyeThangEwe. I'm here all week; try the peas.
What did I just say about crappy jokes? Apologies. Returning to my gist, such as it is, I try to make something vaguely reminiscent of a silk purse from the sow's ear I start with. If the 1/10s that some kind souls have bestowed on the aforementioned photos are any indication, the success of my endeavours is debateable at best. However I do find the distance between bloke & faux bird is a pleasantly diverting journey, even if my choice of footwear is impractical...
Aside from this occasional hobby of outraging friends, neighbours and family by donning the garb of the opposite gender ("crossdressing", if you will) my interests are largely typical of persons of my age and birth sex. I enjoy music, favouring the indie bands of my increasingly distant youth (the opening quote is from "Shellshock" by New Order, bless your heart for reading this far) and folky, acoustic stuff. I'm also a bit of a sports fan, particularly cricket, football & both codes of rugby. All too stereotypically male to be quite the thing, I'm sure, but one does have a foot in both camps, even if said feet are preferably shod in 4" fuck me heels.
I'm here to bask in the company of my co-religionists & hopefully find some cool, witty, clever, friendly, funny, sussed and sexy girls (it's not too much to ask, is it?), be they transgendered or otherwise, for canasta & discussing our plans of world domination initially &, well, who knows afterwards? Romance, passion, marriage, divorce, bitter recrimination and joint custody of the Louboutins; there's a giddy swirl of possibilities. If you know Don Bradman's batting average and the exact running time of the 12" mix of Fools Gold whilst fully appreciating the majesty of a stiletto heel you're probably my kinda gal. I'm definitely not into guys sexually at all though. Don't get me wrong, I like men & some of my best friends are men, but my libidinous boat remains steadfastly unfloated. Sorry, chaps.
To close then: I'm a bloke who sometimes dresses as a lass with an arguable degree of success. I'm fascinated by others who do the same with greater facility than myself and, whilst crippled with jealousy, my admiration for them knows few bounds. To start as one thing and become another so beautifully is really quite something. The jammy, skinny, wonderful fucking bitches...
If my physical appearance doesn't repel and you aren't put off by self-satisfied smart arses you could always say "hi". I don't bite. Well, I might, but not where it'd show, anyway.
Interests:
Cross-dressing, Boots, Online chat, Office wear, Goth wear, Leather Skirt/Dress, Other TGirls, Full Makeup, I am Sub, In the Closet, High Heels, No Male Admirers Please!, BDSM / Bondage, Inexperienced, Micro/Mini skirts, Females, Single/Unattached, Friendship, Music Festivals / Gigs, Sporting Events, Books & Literature, Foot Fetish
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