School plays
Posted: Wed May 03, 2017 9:29 am
One of my earliest memories of cross-dressing was when I was around eight or nine years old, and had stumbled across a child's mini kilt that was abandoned at the side of a waste disposal unit outside our home. The kilt was on top of other discarded clothing and was quite clean, had obviously been freshly laundered and ironed. It was left there as if it was hoped someone else could make use of the items rather than them being thrown away. I had an overwhelming desire to take it and try it on. When I picked up the kilt I got a strange buzz, a kind of vibration I had never felt before. I took it back home and tried it on in my bedroom, and enjoyed the feeling, although there were no sexual undertones, as I was nowhere near puberty at the time, although that strange vibration was there again. I still don't know what happened to the kilt, my Mum must have found it, eventually. No doubt an awkward questions and answers session must have followed, maybe even punishment (I was raised in a strict Catholic family) as sometimes I would have to suffer being spanked with my dads leather belt. Although such punishment is almost banished in today's society, it was commonplace then, in the sixties.Although I do seem to recall wearing a kilt and stuffing two balloons up my jumper and prancing around a room full of my family with aunties and uncles, singing: "tra la-la, tra la-loo, Look at me, I'm Danny la Rue." One day I stood there like a teapot, with one hand on my hips, arm bent at a right angle, with the other hand pointing somewhere outside the window.
"What about that Blackpool Tower eh? I've seen my fair share of
erections but that's the biggest I've ever seen." Then I fanned my face as if I was overheating. The room was silent although almost everyone seemed to be holding their breath and going purple in the face until Mum jumped up, smacked me on the bottom and quickly frog marched me out of the room. As soon as the door was shut the room exploded into the loudest burst of laughter I have ever heard. Mum gently chided me:
"Please don't tell that joke again, it's very rude"
"But everyone laughs when Uncle Phil tells it." I whined.
"I know dear, but Uncle Phil is naughty, he shouldn't tell adult jokes in front of you."
"But I love Uncle Phil!" I sobbed.
"I know dear and so do I. I blame that Danny la Rue, that's where Uncle
Phil hears all these rude jokes." Danny la Rue, I loved him, he was a drag queen, the star of the show whenever he appeared and even appeared on National TV. I loved to go to the afternoon matinees where he would perform a children's version of his cabaret act. When he sang his theme song, the Irish ballad: "Oh Danny boy," I always thought he was singing "Oh Danny Boyd" to me personally. There were a lot of female impersonators and drag queens around the Blackpool scene, as they worked in the variety halls and nightclubs of the beach piers and promenades and sp I grew up in a world where men dressing up as women seemed like a part of normal daily life.
However, I can't recall any further cross-dressing related incidents around that time, other than the annual school plays. Mum and Dad were a bit worried that I might be turning into a 'sissy boy' with the constant fussing of my sisters, and I wanted to be more like a boy than a girl, so it was arranged that I would be sent to an all boys' boarding school at the age of eleven. However, I suffered teasing whenever we had to play sports, go
swimming or worst of all, strip naked in the shower rooms. I was a little chubby kid, with rosy cheeks and soft features, and I had boy boobs.
I also used to dread the annual school play, performed on stage in front
of an audience of parents and schoolchildren, because the English teacher always chose me to play the part of a woman. Not a main part, I was never that good at acting, but usually a walk on part, with a few words to say and then I would just stand at the side of the stage, usually dressed in women's attire. Everyone had make up, to work better with the stage lighting, and of course mine would include lipstick and eye shadow. I used to get wolf whistles from sarcastic elder kids, which would always embarrass me.But that all changed a few years later when I was a little bigger and Mrs. Peacock became our new Arts and Drama teacher and introduced me to my alter-ego, Suzy! ...
"What about that Blackpool Tower eh? I've seen my fair share of
erections but that's the biggest I've ever seen." Then I fanned my face as if I was overheating. The room was silent although almost everyone seemed to be holding their breath and going purple in the face until Mum jumped up, smacked me on the bottom and quickly frog marched me out of the room. As soon as the door was shut the room exploded into the loudest burst of laughter I have ever heard. Mum gently chided me:
"Please don't tell that joke again, it's very rude"
"But everyone laughs when Uncle Phil tells it." I whined.
"I know dear, but Uncle Phil is naughty, he shouldn't tell adult jokes in front of you."
"But I love Uncle Phil!" I sobbed.
"I know dear and so do I. I blame that Danny la Rue, that's where Uncle
Phil hears all these rude jokes." Danny la Rue, I loved him, he was a drag queen, the star of the show whenever he appeared and even appeared on National TV. I loved to go to the afternoon matinees where he would perform a children's version of his cabaret act. When he sang his theme song, the Irish ballad: "Oh Danny boy," I always thought he was singing "Oh Danny Boyd" to me personally. There were a lot of female impersonators and drag queens around the Blackpool scene, as they worked in the variety halls and nightclubs of the beach piers and promenades and sp I grew up in a world where men dressing up as women seemed like a part of normal daily life.
However, I can't recall any further cross-dressing related incidents around that time, other than the annual school plays. Mum and Dad were a bit worried that I might be turning into a 'sissy boy' with the constant fussing of my sisters, and I wanted to be more like a boy than a girl, so it was arranged that I would be sent to an all boys' boarding school at the age of eleven. However, I suffered teasing whenever we had to play sports, go
swimming or worst of all, strip naked in the shower rooms. I was a little chubby kid, with rosy cheeks and soft features, and I had boy boobs.
I also used to dread the annual school play, performed on stage in front
of an audience of parents and schoolchildren, because the English teacher always chose me to play the part of a woman. Not a main part, I was never that good at acting, but usually a walk on part, with a few words to say and then I would just stand at the side of the stage, usually dressed in women's attire. Everyone had make up, to work better with the stage lighting, and of course mine would include lipstick and eye shadow. I used to get wolf whistles from sarcastic elder kids, which would always embarrass me.But that all changed a few years later when I was a little bigger and Mrs. Peacock became our new Arts and Drama teacher and introduced me to my alter-ego, Suzy! ...
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