I assumed these were not guests at the bat mitzvah because I was certain the hosts would have given a heads-up if they were. You know, so the guests would be able to prepare.
And by prepare, I mean bring our A games in terms of personal styling, as there is nothing quite so shameful as being worse than a man at dressing like a female.
I mean sure, I looked nice-ish. I'd done my hair and put on lipstick and even attempted to wear the highest heels I own. I say "attempted" because about an hour into the party, the discomfort factor was so high that I kicked off the shoes and went barefoot the rest of the night. Including when I used the facilities and my friend kindly accompanied me to the restroom and placed paper towels on the floor so I could scoot my way to the stall in paper "shoes" to avoid being barefoot on the tiles.
(Did I mention I only had one drink the entire night? There is nothing on which I can blame this churlish behavior.)
On the way back from the restroom, we walked through the gathering of cross dressers and as we got closer, I realized something truly appalling, something that made me gasp audibly: among the fashionably dressed were those in sensible shoes, with pocketbooks, and *shudder*
Now, in my extensive research on cross dressing, I've learned that a lot of the appeal in doing it is that one can be uber-feminine and creative with glamorous ensembles, makeup and shoes. And really, what is the point of making the effort to look like a woman if you look like a woman who has just given up? Wouldn't you want to explore all that it means to be a girly-girl and almost go to the opposite extreme to experiment with all of the different ways to feel delicate, sexy and alluring?
...says the woman in the paper-towel shoes....
|When I commented how gigantic my melon looks compared to my friend's,|
she kindly noted that "dark hair is very slimming."
UPDATE: DC Blogs linked to this post today, DC Blogs always seems to link to the posts of which I'm proudest: those that discuss autoerotic asphyxiation, smoking, my horrible parenting, bunions, expletive-using children's soccer coaches, doctors having their way with me, my husband's mistress, and bungholes, Seriously...how do they find this stuff?