Hi,I lost my link, hence the long absence.
A few people asked me to write chapter two, of my Transgendered Life. So here goes.....
During my twenty one years in the armed forces I took many risks which in reality was not a good idea. I felt so frustrated by the macho environment. On reflection I believe that many people knew about my unorthodox behavior. Quite how I got through to retiring without being disciplined is a mystery.
The RAF did not as a rule condone any form of homosexuality. I do not consider myself to be of that fraternity, but in the "seventies" all transvestite behavior was classed as homosexual behavior.
On average 2 to 3 persons were dishonourably discharged for such behavior, every month from one of the bases in East Anglia. Some were gay, and some not.
I must have had a real trooper of a fairy godmother.
I have lost count of the amount of times I bought secondhand clothes. At first when asked "Who are these for?" I would lie and concoct some story to cover the purchase. But then I discovered the "Kick" to be had by simply saying, "They are for me."
But the saying goes" Dont crap on your own doorstep." Therefore for many years I used to travel as much as fifty miles away from my base, to ensure I could shop with anonimity.
But the act of shopping for female clothes became an obsession in itself, which in turn lead to much frustration and depression. Britain in the Seventies and Eighties was not yet ready for the open male transvestite.
(I hate that word)
The obsession grew over time into a dangerous obsession. I took to planning weeks in advance for shopping trips to far flung places. By now my obsession had focussed on Ball Gowns and more especially Bridal Gowns.
I did I will admit use people. I felt some guilt, but not enough to stop me continuing. Some of the more memorable experiences are mixed with some I would rather forget.
The reaction of most shop keepers was one of "Oh well, If he does buy then its a sale"; on the odd occasion the woman would really get in the spirit of it all. One such lady was in the town of Newquay. I was there just before the 1991 war with Iraq. I had explained my intention was to find a suitable gown to purchase for a 'Game for a Laugh' stunt whereby my wife would take the part of the Groom and I the Bride, for a renewal of our marriage vows.
The lady presented me with a fabulous gown to try on. It was clearly out of my league, and I said so. £200 was my limit, this was worth almost £1500. But she wouldn't take no for an answer. Soon I was decked out in a basque, also supplied; the prettiest gown I could ever imagine complete with lace gloves, veil and tiara. She had me pose in the centre of the shop, and walk around visible to all who passed by. I loved that experience. She seemed to enjoy it too.
But the downside of my obsession came when on three seperate occasions, the owner(s) of each shop called for the police. The worst was when I was in detained while wearing a gown. I got off with a caution! But I felt devastated. I knew I had to stop.
Finally I went to a Dress Shop near my home for a Gown. Only this time, when I tried on some gowns, I told the owner. "I will buy this one!"
I still have it, its wrapped in tissue now in a trunk in the loft. My obsession thankfully is locked in there too.
