Cross DressingThe last time I wore a skirt was not as liberating or exciting as it could have been. I'd lost a drinking game and had been given the task of running from the bar, across the road and back again whilst wearing a friends clothes as a forfeit.
Easy, I thought. I hadn't reckoned on them getting every person in the pub to block my way back to the bar whilst I was outside. I had to FIGHT my way through. And I'm not much of a fighter.
Your own thoughts on cross dressing for fun, pleasure or profit are most welcome.
(
chthonic, Thu 15 Mar 2007, 15:05)
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First week at UniIt was that usual Soc Mart thing where you sign up to societies in a desperate attempt to make friends and integrate, only to never again attend the Society you chose because it's full of wankers you hate. But as I was walking around between the various stalls, I wandered into a room with a few people sitting around.
I cast my eyes about and soon got the message. It was a bunch blokes in drag. One of them looked hilarious - a big-boned guy who was probably in the rugby team. His make-up barely covered his stubble and no amount of haircare products had affected the straw-like texture of his hair. Another was a lanky, bony bloke with goggly eyes and big veiny hands. You'd never mistake him for a woman!
"Great! A Cross-Dressing Society! Sign me up!" I said.
The temperature dropped about ten degrees and the rugby bloke pointed wordlessly to a sign on the door behind me: "Feminist Society." They were not men.
So I joined the Cannabis Society and the zany Society Society, never again to attend.
(, Fri 16 Mar 2007, 10:47, Reply)
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