Je m’appelle Julia Parfois.

Or to put it another way, I’m Julia . . . sometimes.

I’m a T-Girl – a fella who loves to wear dresses . . . and skirts . . . and stockings . . . and heels . . . and . . . . . . . .

I live in England with my wonderful partner Dee, who knows the score and stands by me (although not exactly with me . . . she hasn’t met Julia).

I’m a father and a writer and a reader and a musician and a football fan. I’m a lover, not a fighter (or a dancer).

I’m a 60s child. I hope I never grow up.

I’m a man in touch with his feminine side, but I’m not a man trapped in a woman’s body. I was born male and I’ll die male . . . I just make the odd excursion as Lady Julia.

By the way, that leggy brunette on the right. Not me I’m afraid. Nice look though . . .