Thursday, 4th January, 2007

The Frustration Of (Non)Sharing

tranny fetish self sex sexuality crossdressing

Damm I looked good the other night. Seriously, you should've seen me.

Well, actually, no. You shouldn't've — or rather, I'd probably not've let you. Despite the slight bubblings to the surface of my more 'festishitic transvestism' recently — and me being more open about the kind of clothes I wear When I Want To Feel Horny™ — I'm still very reluctant to let that side of things 'air', so to speak.

I was wondering about this in the car this morning — just why is it that I'm driven to expose a very private thing in such a public forum? Why did I feel compelled to shove those two photos into this space, when the autoerotic side of my nature is usually something I'd rather not be bandied around?

What exactly did I want to get out of it?

There's a feeling I get, sometimes, looking at myself in the mirror — a feeling of frustration. And I couldn't help but draw a parallel between that feeling (just like the one I had last night) and the feeling I used to have five years ago when I first started posting pictures of myself dressed as a woman on teh intarweb.

I think it's got something to do with "validation".

I've written a lot over the years about the "self-delusional" powers of transvestites — how I in particular somehow manage to bend the face I see staring back at me from the mirror into "girl", even when the photographic record of the event contradicts this perception.

Granted, there's a lot to be said for the inability of (snapshot) photography to pick up on the nuances of a moment, and the film/CCD never sees the same as the eye — but I do believe there's a bit of perceptional hocus-pocus going on when I see myself in a mirror.

Perhaps it's the tendancy of the brain to focus on one particular aspect of the face, or ignore the tell-tale features of another aspect — or maybe it's that the brain wants to see "girl", so ignores "boy". Whichever/Whatever.

Sometimes — as I've said far too many times — I see a girl looking back at me.

And I think that part of the reason I find myself sticking pictures all over the place, is because I want that disperception validated by others. I want others to agree with me — sometimes, if I'm totally honest, regardless of how highly I regard their opinion¹.

It's not that I want lauded experts in gender facial features to give me a percentage rating of how well my ability to appear "not what I am" is functioning. It's just that I want someone, anyone perhaps, to agree with me, and tell me that they see it too.

I must confess that I find those two photographs of my self as discomforting as I do erotic — perhaps in the same way that I originally found the photographs of myself as Siobhan as discomforting as I did exciting. I'm more (I guess) uncomfortable with the Antisoftener² one as I am the other — not necessarily because I find it more erotic, just maybe because I'm more 'trussed up' in it — more verging on the 'pantomimic'.

...

The thing is though, I'm also wondering why the hell it is that I feel the need to blurt this out. I suppose part of it is a desire to say something along the lines of "You know, sometimes some of us do dress up for sexual reasons, and dammit, that's OK". But also, I think, there's a part of me that wants to admit my kinks with the same ease as my everyday crossdressing — and, more importantly, find some kind of outlet for that ... outside of my bedroom twanks³.

So I suppose, not only am I doing the same 'validation' thing as I do with my normal "girl" photos — only this time wanting to be validated on sexiness rather than gender illusions — I'm also yearning for the same physical outlet as I was when I was first trying to find places to go in a frock.

In an ideal world, I'd know of a club where I could go wearing whatever the hell I wanted to, and not feel uncomfortable.

But maybe, in the end, that's what we're all after.

(This is a Thought-Process In Progress™. Apologies for the incoherence)

...

(This is also a thought-process that has been occupying me for the past couple of days — hence the disjointedness too)

The thing is, while I was sat the other night — all dressed up — I couldn't help but think "Damm, I look hot". And even though there were the usual feelings of "but I can't let anyone else see me like this", I did actually start to wonder whether or not actually, ACTUALLY I didn't look that bad — and maybe what I was wearing wasn't something I could never go out in.

It wasn't outlandish, it was just, well, a bit quirky.

And I've been struck over the past few days, thinking about this, how bloody similar these feelings are to those I had five years ago — when I was getting all nervous and tentative about sharing a version of me online that previously had only been parading around the bedroom.

"Do I look OK?"

"Do I look stupid?"

"Will people laugh at me?"

"Do I look convincing enough?"

"Will anyone find me attractive?"

Granted, those questions are always at the back of my mind as my cursor hovers over the "Upload" button — but for this, something 'new and more personal', I felt myself right back at where I started. As if all the confidence I'd gained over five years of shameless photographic vanity-publishing had disappeared in a flash.

Sorry, I'm probably waffling a bit too much in circles here. It's just a really strange feeling.

What's equally strange, is the feeling of looking at yourself online, and realising that you've publically transformed yourself into the object of your own fantasies.

...

I don't really know where this is going, to be honest. Part of it is just a blatant "what'cha think?" tactic. Part of it is a serious plea for information about more 'extravagant' costume experiences.

But part of it is an attempt to fathom out why this compulsion exists for me, and whether or not it exists for others.

I'm also curious to know whether the same things that go on in my head when I look at photos like that of me goes on in others' heads.

...

Just one last thing, before I get too frustrated that none of this has come out the way I wanted it to, and pull it to shreds...

I've felt uncomfortable about broaching this subject — that of the intricacies of my sexuality — partly because I don't know if anyone cares, but also because of the more 'openess' of this blog. I do worry sometimes about the seeming randomness of all of this, but I worry in particular about how the disparate incomers from various segregated aspects of my life can often land on a page which has nothing to do with where they followed a link to me from (a tranny finding herself immersed in a Second Life tutorial, an academic suddenly awash with idle chitchat, or a friend suddenly surrounded with details of my smut).

Which is why I've kept going back to what Kim wrote a couple of months ago:

Mildly Diverting: Super Public, Super Sexy

In that stew of data on me, my sexual life is as weighted as my musical tastes, or my reading materials; it's all noise, just data points and only relevant if you want to make it so. Added together, though, it will probably tell you if I am someone you'd find entertaining to have a chat with in the pub.

I like that

¹ That sounds terrible, doesn't it? What I mean is that whilst on the one hand, there are certain commenters and observers on what I do whose opinions I hold in high regard, sometimes I question the 'validity' of one or two other opinions. But sometimes that doesn't matter — it's not always about feeling absolutely validated in a photograph — sometimes it's just nice to know that someone likes it, even if they're prone to leaving "Looking great!" comments on photographs that blatantly don't. If you get my drift.

² It's an anagram of tranniefesto. I'm presuming everyone guessed.

³ Look. I made a word up, and I'm going to use it, dammit.

Difficult isn't it?

Yes.

Cleo Roccos

I watched last night, and that's all

They're full of quirky mofos.

I'm not sure I'd agree with that. Based on (admittedly) only two nights out with you, I'd say there were a lot of "quirky mofos", but equally as many (if not more) who were just appropriating a 'uniform' in a very superficial way, without any engagement with its underlying structures.

...but that's just my cynical gripe against a post-postmodern, shallow youth

There was an advert on over Christmas (for Vodaphone or something — one of the mobile carriers anyway) that got my back up slightly along similar lines. A woman on the phone sees a child on some kind of rocking horse outside a shop, and is mentaly transported to some kind of funfair where glamorous people in extravagant costumes paraded around performing tricks for her and her friends' benefit.

...actually, sorry. That train of thought isn't going anywhere — it's too early in the morning and I haven't had enough coffee yet.

...

I think though, you're missing my point — probably because I hashed all that out without really planning what I was trying to say properly. It's not about feeling comfortable in the clothes, and wanting to be in an environment where that's "OK"...

You know how when we all go out to somewhere like Pink Punters? We get ourselves all made-up the best we can with the (perhaps) sole intent of saying "I've made myself look like this, because in these clothes, this make up, and with these mannerisms, they all make me feel feminine¹"

And the environment that exists within a club like that serves to 'cocoon' us from the harshness of reality, and our measure of 'success' is to some extent how much others agree with us: all the "You look great!"s — our self-image is confirmed by others.

So if you replace that "feminine" with "horny", I think that's what I'm driving at. The frustrations I have are centred around certain items of clothing and their combinations that, when I wear them, turn me into a horny little ball of easily-moulded putty — but more specifically, the lack of a 'space' in which to share that self-image, and have it confirmed by someone else's horniness.

I think, what I'm yearning for, is an environment/space where the shared acknowledgement is that the clothes that people are wearing isn't just because they're glamorous, or attractive, or convey a self-image that ins't easily presented outside of that environment — it's because those clothes actually turn you on. They're not 'accidentally' sexy, they're intentionally sexy.

...

Oh, I dunno

I'm almost certain I've got a point here somewhere — I'm just having a really hard time expressing it.

Sorry.

So it really does depend what you want

But of course. As usual

When I work out how to say it, I'll let you know.

¹ Yes, I know. Bad choice of words. I apologise

Mean't to add people may even vote for you

Nope, you've lost me there

while wearing wellies full of cold rice-pudding

You too eh? It has to be Ambrosia though, I find

were these just too close to your own 'personal hot'

Yup.

That's the thing about Antisoftener — on the surface it does just look like me "being playful and perhaps a bit flirtatious", but it was actually quite a difficult picture for me to decide to put up — being, as it is, more close to to my 'personal hot' than the other more 'general' tranny-shots I post.

I suppose that's what this post has all been about — the strange side-kick that the decision to post that has given me: the discrepency between the seeming 'playfulness' and the actual deeply personal 'revealing' hidden within it.

To flip back to the "it's a bit like transvestism" analogy for a moment, it's like being a tranny going to a fancy-dress party, and the awkwardness of trying to appear nonchalent conflicting with the desire to be 'out' — sorta.

Aren't you talking, broadly, about the 'fetish scene'?

I am, to be honest. I'm just not all that into leather/PVC/rubber — I guess I'm just wondering if there's a space within that scene for others

many moons ago, there was a monthly fetish 'bash' in Leeds that went by the name of "Mostly Harmless"

That reminds me, I need to do a fair bit of research into the tranny-scene in Leeds. I'm going to view a house on Tuesday...

I can spot anagrams dead quick, when I know I'm looking for one — but I tend to take words at face value, otherwise.

I got a great one of "transvestite" the other day: invert tastes

*aw* thanks Charlee

The first one I went to was www.torturegarden.com

Thanks for that Daryl

I must admit, I'm really in the dark when it comes to fetish clubs. I'd thought maybe I should give one a go — but it's names like "Torture Garden" that have always put me off in the past

And there is space at the Fetish Inn for us and others, is what I was trying to say.

I like that

Like a Travelodge, but more fun.