Things I know about wanting to wear a frock
I wonder how many men reading this are sitting contentedly in their silky bra and panties idly painting their nails. Perhaps some of you are at work, dressed to impress in manly clobber while, concealed from view, under your suit, you feel the velvety, comforting touch of your wife’s pantihose? Quite a few of you I wager. Cross dressers, other than a handful of brave and daring types, practice their, err, departure, behind closed doors, in private, hidden from the glare of an ever disapproving world. Most transvestite men are heterosexual, married with children. Some are pillars of the community, church goers, doctors, airline pilots and accountants; in fact men from all backgrounds wear women’s clothing.
Women can and do like to dress as men too, but it’s more acceptable in western society to see a girl in trousers or a suit, even considered sexy to see your girlfriend or wife, or indeed someone else’s wife, in your boxer shorts. Both sexes cross dress but the explanations for doing so can, at times, be varied and not necessarily for the same reasons.
Transgender can imply many things and includes the desire by someone born as one sex to be the other, to be the gender that they feel they are on the inside! To achieve this fully they may well require surgery and/or hormone treatment. En-route they will give an outward impression of the sex that they desire to be! A male born in a female body will often bind his breasts and a woman born in a male body will hide any hints of masculinity. What makes it more confounding is that either way, in whatever body you are trapped in, it doesn’t and shouldn’t be used as an indication of one’s sexual orientation. Likewise if a male decides he’s more comfortable in women’s clothing it doesn’t make him homosexual, far from it, it just makes him a heterosexual chap who happens to like dressing like a female. I put the word female in italics because who’s to say what a woman should or shouldn’t look like? Where I live there are some very masculine women with biceps like Popeye and more facial hair than I can sport in a week! Outdoors types, hunting boar and wrestling stags, they cut down trees, drive tractors and when it’s time to mate, it’s best to be up wind of them.
There are big differences between those trapped in the wrong body, those that do it to shock and/ or entertain, such as drag queens or female impersonators, and those who are comfortably male most of the time, but occasionally feel the need to shack the dust off a pair of stilettos.
Many men start to play with cross dressing as boys, probably at boarding school. ‘Oh let’s put on another play, I’ll be Juliet’, he cries, clapping his hands with glee. Many leave the costumes behind, but some just can’t escape from the frock and guiltily carry their secret with them forever; others become comedians or priests.
I’ve visited some forums for men who cross- dress and for the partners of men who cross- dress; some forums are a bit like Facebook, only Roy is Betty and Doris is John. Many wives talk about how Roy wants to bring Betty into the bedroom just to spice things up a bit and how they are uncomfortable with this; they married Roy not Betty after all.
Many men on the forum say that dressing like a woman turns them on; makes them feel naughty, sexually empowered and that they have a fetish. Others confess to avoiding sexual intimacy unless their partners agree with their demands. Some even find it difficult to enter into a romantic relationship at all, inwardly introvert and painfully shy. Conversely they say that they feel reborn and in control when presenting themselves as female, their inner being, their other identity, their latent self. Others just post a photo of their penis. Most post photos from the neck down; otherwise worried that their secret would be compromised, really? Other than people similar to themselves or researchers such as me –cough, cough – who would wander into a chat room like that?
I dressed in a frock once, not for fancy dress as a lot of men do; I did it as a favour for a friend, or a friend of a friend. I happened to be at a party in the thriving metropolis that is Woodley, celebrating, as it happens, my sister-in-law’s birthday when the request was made. This friend, an artist, androgynous, not in his appearance but his persona, said that he was compiling a book of photos. Each picture should be of a different man but modelling the same sequinned blue dress, a slinky, knee high little number if I remember.
After many, many ales I capitulated and slunk off to change into the dress that countless other men had worn before. I don’t suppose that there exists a dress in history that has been worn by more men than that one. Anyway there I stood before a full length mirror, obviously still male but for the dress, obviously still awesome; I looked pretty damned good and the mirror agreed. I also felt quite comfortable to be honest, and once I’d presented myself to the now drunken rabble and had my photo taken in various poses I felt no rush to change back!
The following day I had to ask myself a few questions, primarily, ‘was the artist really an artist or a pervert collecting photos to fuel his obsession with guys in frocks?’ Sexual deviants all over the globe have my pictures on their hard drive now, ready to debase my image in the name of pleasure; wankers!
Also, perhaps more importantly, ‘how did it make me feel?’ Well, neither more nor less like a man, that’s for sure! Other than the slight breeze that tickled my testicles and the accentuation of my already taught – I don’t even have to work out – buttocks, nothing changed. What I’m trying to say is, it didn’t turn me on but it didn’t feel wrong either! I can perhaps, unlike some people, male or female, get away with wearing a dress due to my awesome physique and impeccable deportment. I have never felt the need to wear a dress since or for that matter dress like a woman at all, but then again…..no.
If a bloke wears a dress and is obviously still a man, maintains an air of grizzled manliness about him, slaps on some Old spice and a tool belt he could still be found attractive by the opposite sex. So it’s not about the dress itself, the human race could still manage to reproduce, just look at the Scots. No it’s about breaking a taboo, about having a deliciously wicked secret that you find erotic. Sex is the only thing on a man’s mind whether he’s dressed in a frock or not.
I don’t really have a problem with men in frocks, taboos and social norms make a habit of trying to suppress healthy behaviour and are consequently responsible for some really perverted ideas and or miserable lives. A woman can chose whether she goes to that important meeting dressed to accentuate her sexuality and womanly curves, or in a sober ‘manly’ pin stripe suit with her hair combed back in a way that says ‘I’m one of the boys’. Why shouldn’t a bloke do this if he so chooses?
Personally I can’t be bothered; I just want to throw on a pair of jeans and a T shirt, slap some gun grease in my hair and strut my funky stuff. Anyhow in an attempt to normalise this behaviour and as an invitation to all you suppressed cross dressers, I will post a photo of myself in a dress, feel free to do the same, but I must warn you, posting a picture of your knob is not funny or cool.