It started with Aunty
Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2009 3:36 am
Despite my introductory post, suggesting that CDing is a new phenomenon for me, I guess my interest was sparked when I was 7.
For a while I was staying at my Grandmother's house and I used to sleep in a double bed with my Aunty, who was about 20 at the time. She used to get up quite early each morning and I would always try to secretly watch her getting dressed. This would be about 1962 and she always wore a girdle and stockings. I was fascinated by her ritual of putting on all the layers of her clothes. One night when I went to bed, I rifled through her drawers looking at her underwear. I was particularly fascinated by her girdles and put one on under my pyjamas. I then went to bed and fell asleep. The following morning I was wriggling about trying to get it off when she awoke and shouted at me for waking her up. I waited until she'd left and then took it off and replaced. A good job she wasn't looking to wear it that day! I was thrilled by wearing the girdle and almost being caught doing it, I suppose.
Nothing further happened until I was in my early twenties. I lived on my own for a few years and at that time had a mail order catalogue. I always liked to look at the women's underwear section, but from a male perspective. However, one day for no known reason I thought it would be exciting to order a bra. I bought some balloons and when the bra duly arrived I excitedly filled the ballons with water and put the bra on and slipped the balloons into the cups. I wore the bra on and off for a a few months and then had an attack of guilt and got rid of it.
That was my last such experience for some thirty years. In recent years I have been collection glamour photos from the 50's and early 60's, realising slowly that I am fascinated and excited by the underwear from that period. I became aware that I was drawn particularly to girdles and full cut knickers, just like my Aunty wore all those years ago. I've liked stockings for many years but started to appreciate the 50's RHT and FF styles. I also loved the many layers that women wore in that era, remembering again my Aunty. I loved the ritualistic dressing side of it.
With the break up of a long term relationship some three months ago, I found I was alone again and quite recently decided, just because I could, to order a pair of 50's full cut knickers, just to see what they felt like to wear. They were fabulous and I felt great. One pair became, two, which became three. I then thought I may as well try a girdle, so I ordered one and some stockings. They arrived and it felt delicious wearing the whole ensemble.
Before I realised what was happening I was ordering more underwear, shoes, clothes and a wig from eBay. The floodgates just seemed to have opened all at once. Having acquired something resembling an outfit I couldn't wait to return home from work each day and get properly dressed with all the layers and following the 'ritual' that I used to see my Aunty doing.
From there it was a seemingly simple step to buy some forms, since I was unhappy with the water filled balloons which once again I was using to fill out my bra. Suddenly I wanted real breasts, or as near as possible.
As I trawled the net for information and clothes it slowly dawned on me that I was a cross-dresser, something I hadn't really stopped to think about. I must admit, once I could label myself in that way it came as a bit of a shock. But I thought to myself, "I am enjoying this, so does it matter what label I am saddled with?". I enjoy buying clothes to wear. I enjoy the ritual of dressing. I enjoy being dressed as a woman. I enjoy being a woman.
Yesterday I attended a make-up lesson at a TV establisment in Manchester and wow, was amazed at the transformation. I shall be practising again today and have been inviting to a soiree on Monday evening, which, although I am extremely nervous about, I will dress up and go to.
I think I can best summarise how I feel as, only realising I have been on a journey because I have arrived. If that makes sense?
For a while I was staying at my Grandmother's house and I used to sleep in a double bed with my Aunty, who was about 20 at the time. She used to get up quite early each morning and I would always try to secretly watch her getting dressed. This would be about 1962 and she always wore a girdle and stockings. I was fascinated by her ritual of putting on all the layers of her clothes. One night when I went to bed, I rifled through her drawers looking at her underwear. I was particularly fascinated by her girdles and put one on under my pyjamas. I then went to bed and fell asleep. The following morning I was wriggling about trying to get it off when she awoke and shouted at me for waking her up. I waited until she'd left and then took it off and replaced. A good job she wasn't looking to wear it that day! I was thrilled by wearing the girdle and almost being caught doing it, I suppose.
Nothing further happened until I was in my early twenties. I lived on my own for a few years and at that time had a mail order catalogue. I always liked to look at the women's underwear section, but from a male perspective. However, one day for no known reason I thought it would be exciting to order a bra. I bought some balloons and when the bra duly arrived I excitedly filled the ballons with water and put the bra on and slipped the balloons into the cups. I wore the bra on and off for a a few months and then had an attack of guilt and got rid of it.
That was my last such experience for some thirty years. In recent years I have been collection glamour photos from the 50's and early 60's, realising slowly that I am fascinated and excited by the underwear from that period. I became aware that I was drawn particularly to girdles and full cut knickers, just like my Aunty wore all those years ago. I've liked stockings for many years but started to appreciate the 50's RHT and FF styles. I also loved the many layers that women wore in that era, remembering again my Aunty. I loved the ritualistic dressing side of it.
With the break up of a long term relationship some three months ago, I found I was alone again and quite recently decided, just because I could, to order a pair of 50's full cut knickers, just to see what they felt like to wear. They were fabulous and I felt great. One pair became, two, which became three. I then thought I may as well try a girdle, so I ordered one and some stockings. They arrived and it felt delicious wearing the whole ensemble.
Before I realised what was happening I was ordering more underwear, shoes, clothes and a wig from eBay. The floodgates just seemed to have opened all at once. Having acquired something resembling an outfit I couldn't wait to return home from work each day and get properly dressed with all the layers and following the 'ritual' that I used to see my Aunty doing.
From there it was a seemingly simple step to buy some forms, since I was unhappy with the water filled balloons which once again I was using to fill out my bra. Suddenly I wanted real breasts, or as near as possible.
As I trawled the net for information and clothes it slowly dawned on me that I was a cross-dresser, something I hadn't really stopped to think about. I must admit, once I could label myself in that way it came as a bit of a shock. But I thought to myself, "I am enjoying this, so does it matter what label I am saddled with?". I enjoy buying clothes to wear. I enjoy the ritual of dressing. I enjoy being dressed as a woman. I enjoy being a woman.
Yesterday I attended a make-up lesson at a TV establisment in Manchester and wow, was amazed at the transformation. I shall be practising again today and have been inviting to a soiree on Monday evening, which, although I am extremely nervous about, I will dress up and go to.
I think I can best summarise how I feel as, only realising I have been on a journey because I have arrived. If that makes sense?