Being Julia

{January 12, 2008}   Bra Wars: A New Hope

Well here we are, 2008 is already well underway and Christmas and the whole new year thing has been  . . . er, “interesting”.  Dee and I seem to be moving into a new phase with the whole Julia thing. It’s been a very subtle shift, but there nonetheless.

As I’ve said before Dee is aware of my T-girl side, but has never “met” Julia, nor even does she know that Julia’s got a name. But a few things over the past few weeks suggest that might possibly change at some point, unless I’m reading things all wrong (that wouldn’t be a first).

To be honest, the T-girl thing is not something we discuss in depth, it kind of gets hinted at occasionally, skirted (!) around sometimes. When I first outed myself we naturally had a huge in-depth discussion: Was I gay? (No). Did I want to have a sex-change (No). How did it start? (Told her). What did I wear? (Told her). Why did I do it? (Didn’t, and still don’t, know – beyond the fact that it feels amazing and bigger than I am on my own and I appear to be addicted to it). Had I tried to stop? (Told her the whole guilt trip/purge then buy again and again and again history). Was I still attracted to her? (Oh yes!).

But these days it’s mostly the odd comment by Dee that she appears to be dangling like bait to see if and how I respond. Sometimes I reply, sometimes I don’t. In truth I still find the whole discussion incredibly embarrassing. I don’t know why I am like I am, so to a large degree I still don’t truly know who I am . . . that’s a journey I’m still taking (but there again, aren’t we all?).

Anyway, flashback a month or so and we were watching a TV documentary about Zoe Margolis, author of the sexual exploits blog Girl With A One-Track Mind. There was much talk about people with secret Second-Life style sex blogs and Dee suddenly said: “You could write a blog like that. You’d be great.”

Cue guilt trip as, of course, I’d already started my Julia blog by then and was indeed keeping it a secret from her. Now I am a great believer that having too many secrets between a couple is an awkward and often dangerous thing –  it’s one of the reasons why I outed myself in the first place. But I kept silent about Dee’s suggestion and about the fact that I was already merrily blogging away, largely because I had already blogged my first couple of trips out as Julia which she knew nothing about and also because I might find my blogging compromised in some way by knowing that she was peering over my shoulder. This is – at the moment anyway – pretty much a solo voyage of self-discovery.

Fast forward a little now to Christmas Day. We’re opening our presents and I get a novelty gift from Dee – an Ann Summers “Boob Job” savings bank. It’s in the shape of a rather well-endowed black bra-clad bust with a slot down the cleavage for popping in your spare change! The box was printed with how you could save up the pennies for a new set of boobs (a whole new meaning to ‘you don’t get many of those to the pound’). Maybe I’m thick, but it wasn’t till a little later that I thought maybe this was one way of Dee showing she is coping alright with all this, that maybe it was a message saying I could relax with her too, maybe talk about it some more. Unfortunately I haven’t yet plucked up the courage to ask her this, I guess I’m afraid that if I’ve got it wrong she’ll think she can’t say or do anything without me twisting it to be some commentary on my T-girl side.

Fast forward again and we’re celebrating New Year’s Eve. In a pub. With a drag show.

Yep, Dee and me and a couple of friends are having a great laugh as two sequin-dress-clad, high heel trannies entertain us (one of them later does a great turn as Cher in black PVC). Now maybe it’s the drink (although she said this fairly early on in the proceedings) but Dee says: “I could see you doing that  . . . you’d look fantastic.” We do have a short discussion about the idea, but it isn’t really the time or place and I say something like “I’m getting such mixed signals from you about that side of me” and it’s all getting a bit heavy, so we leave it be . . . and haven’t returned to the conversation yet (a theme developing here?).

Actually, talking of themes developing, Dee has made one other suggestion of note . . . she wants us to go to see the Rocky Horror Show . . . in costume. Oh the irony, to be “able” to go out in society fully dressed up and made up and for it to be completely acceptable because “it’s just for a laugh”. But it’s such an enticing idea too . . . a relatively unthreatening way for Dee to meet Julia and for me to really go to town with the idea.

I’ve insisted on one condition though if we ever do it (there are no Rocky Horror Shows in the pipeline in the near future to my knowledge) which Dee is not too happy about – I’d definitely have to have a wax/shave if I’m to go out in basque and stockings . . . but Dee is rather partial to my fuzziness (which I really dislike, regardless of my T-girl inclinations) and is unhappy with the idea of me being a “smoothy”. Oh well, like I say, no theatres near us have the show booked at the mo . . . although I have just got a copy of the movie. 😉

And finally . . . I mentioned in my last blog of 2007 that the New Year sales might prove interesting this year, as they would be the first ones where I could shop for Julia. Interesting? Were they ever!

I headed out to the town of Burton, once famed for its brewing industry but also home to a reasonable selection of shops. It was a trip with two purposes, the first being to pop round as many girly shops as poss and check out the sales rails, the second to get a feel for the place for a potential visit as Julia . . . check out the size and make-up of the crowds to see how comfortable Julia might feel among them. Well the answer to that one is that the place definitely has potential if I ever feel a little braver than I am at the moment.

But back to the sales. I had a little spare cash and a tenner from the lottery burning a hole in my pocket/purse and had a wonderful time going from shop to shop in bloke mode looking through all the girly bargains. If anyone wondered, I was looking for presents for my other half (!?!?!?!) or if anyone clocked the truth it didn’t matter, nobody knows me there!

And what bargains I got. After that New Year’s Eve drag show I’d got a real desire for a sparkly party dress. Well thank you River Island for my new, gorgeous black dress (my first ever dress, actually) reduced from £40 to £15. The only problem so far is that they only had it in a 14 and I really need a 16. But I can just about get away with it and I love how it clings and moves, although I am finding it impossible to wear it and hide what the tabloids would call my “manhood”/”lunchbox” in profile. (Any suggestions girls?).

Two other purchases were not in the sales but still bargains. First, a pair of extremely pointy and extremely red stiletto shoes from a charity shop for just £3 – a size too small but irresistible at that price and I can just get in them . . . for a short while. Second, an absolutely beautiful red and black basque set in “my size” (38C) for just £12.99 at TK Maxx. I’d forgotten (it’s been well over 10 years) just how gorgeous it feels to be encased in a basque – just wonderful.

But my biggest bargain of all was a new coat. If you’ve read earlier blogs you’ll know I had a black fur coat for a while, which was a bit too small and a bit too obvious tranny for trips out so I took it back to a charity shop.

Well, now I have a brand new, stunning, three-quarter length, cream coat from Bank, reduced from £90 to just £20. Yes, twenty quid! It is absolutely gorgeous and feels perfect and luxurious on. I’ve only tried it on at home and can’t wait to get out there in the real world with it. Not sure when that will be, not for two or three weeks at least.

In the meantime I enjoyed a wonderful three-hour dressing up session in the house. The full works – wig, make-up, a full set of false painted nails and all my new wardrobe. Can’t afford to buy any more this month . . . but what a treat I’ve had.

Till next time,

Julia P    



et cetera