Social Distancing

As the new reality continues and even becomes more ingrained in our lives, social distancing has become one of the words of the day. Plus more and more of us who are fortunate enough to have our own hair, are beginning to think seeing our hair dresser is an essential activity. Especially for those who have to have their hair colored. Thanks to the insight years ago from my former stylist, we decided to let my hair revert back to it's natural soft grey tones. So really, all I have to worry about is getting it trimmed and shaped once things get back to normal.

These days too, I notice the number of cis women commenting on their lack of hair maintenance and I understand. Following the first trip to an upscale hair salon my daughter gifted me when I first came out to her, I was hooked on going to a hair salon to be pampered and "touched up." 

Unfortunately, over the years I tried hair shortcuts such as trying to color my own very long and thick hair. I managed to get in trouble by getting color all over the bathroom walls and towels as I learned the hard way how hard it was to remove the stains. Plus, I also became very adept at missing parts of my hair when I was coloring it. 

These days, the only thing I worry about with my hair is it becoming too long and unmanageable. However, with people maintaining a safe distance from me I will automatically look better. Perhaps like when they turn the lights down in a pub for happy hour. And I am not the only one! Let's check in with Connie in Seattle:

"OK, the social distancing is already improving my looks. Ten feet might be even better, but viewing me from six feet away is much easier on others' eyes than from two feet! :-)

The countless hours I spent working on and improving my looks during my self-induced isolation, over years of closeted cross dressing, should have been more than enough. The trouble is, though, it wasn't until my fifties that I finally showed myself to the public. I am, by nature, a perfectionist, so I always have seen room for self-improvement. If I had the means to "turn back time," as does Cher, maybe I could improve on what age has taken from my looks. Sitting in front of the mirror now, during this Covid-19 isolation, primping and adoring myself, is not going to cut it like it did those years ago. In fact, these days, doing so seems a rather silly thing for me to do. Unless I had a special occasion that warranted a glam look, I now just spend as little effort and time in order to make myself less-than-perfect - but still acceptable.

So far, I'm still allowed to work. In normal times, I work outside with hundreds of tourists all around me. This morning, I didn't get any closer than twenty feet from one person, and only noticed a few others further away. I still put on some makeup, though, along with a do-rag scarf on my head and old jeans. It's my Rosie the Riveter look - all the rage this Spring! :-)"

Sounds like fun :). Stay safe everyone.

Maybe I am Getting Better?

It all started with the compliment I didn't know what to do with from my ex wife on Thanksgiving. It continued with Connie thanking me for the compliment I gave her after the picture she sent in. And, I was complimented on my hair today by my therapist.

I am guessing but I think my inability to respond to compliments or give them goes back to my parents. Growing up, I can not remember a time when I received a compliment which wasn't tied to a qualifier. In other words, you (me) did good, but...

I think also, I have a difficult time with feminine based compliments because I think the "qualifier" is still there. An example would be looking good as a woman for a transgender person or a man.

Truthfully though, I am on cloud nine (where ever that is) following all the compliments I have received on my hair. The qualifier this time is being fortunate enough to still have a full head of hair to not have to deal with wigs anymore. Unlike Connie, who looks great, I was usually hit or miss in the wig department. Mostly miss from quite a few fashion mistakes. I have always believed I was really able to navigate the feminine world as a transgender person after I began to grow my own hair.

Plus, I feel as if I am being repaid hair karma from my time in the 70's when I was in the Army and had to have short hair when everyone else I knew had longish hair. Of course I also completely envied the hippie girls with all of their long hair.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have complimented more women on their hair. I have come to the understanding now why so many women rely on their hairdressers for an occasional boost. Figuratively and literally, it makes us feel better about ourselves.

The bad news is now I will have to find a new stylist to do my hair. My current one had to retire due to carpal tunnel hand problems.

I will miss the pampering I received every two months when I went to the salon and all those pesky compliments which came my way.

Life is nothing without change though and finding a new stylist will be exciting in it's own way.

New life based challenges are good too when you are 70 as I am. There is still plenty of time to get better. I hope!

A Whole Lot of Stress about Nothing

Well. my trip to the auto store to get the oil changed turned out to be very uneventful.  In fact the guy at the counter barely looked at me as he made small chat about the vastly newer car I brought in to replace one of our ancient ones. I thought at the time he was somehow afraid to look at me but as the afternoon progressed, no one else paid me much attention either. It was highly satisfying just to blend into society and not be outwardly read as a transgender woman.

Last night I continued my string of good luck by going to one of the socials put on by my cross dresser - transgender support group. Anymore it is fun for me to just sit back and watch some of the more flamboyant cross dressers out themselves. However, it's a very inclusive group anymore since sitting close to me were two acquaintances who are scheduled to go under the surgeons knife in the upcoming month by undergoing genital realignment surgery. Both have a lot more courage than I have! Not so long ago, we had a person close to the group pass away from complications after her surgery.

Onto another topic. This afternoon is the final appointment with my hair dresser I love so much. It seems her husband is getting another job and they are moving out of town.

I have found the older I get, change is harder to accept. Now, in the not so distant future, I will have to find another hair dresser.

All in all, if that is all I have to whine about, life is good.   

Say it "Ain't" So

It doesn't seem possible but Christmas is right around the corner and parties are already being scheduled.  In fact, I have one coming up on December 19th.

As soon as I found out, I did what most other cis women would do. I scheduled (or tried to) an appointment with my hair stylist.

I found out the soonest I could get in was November 22nd. Not my ideal choice but I found out it was the best I could do. Because I learned she was moving out of town and closing down her business.

She is the one who has a transgender son and is so understanding to the trans cause.  Plus, more importantly, she does such a great job.

Now I have to find another stylist or just let my hair grow out again.

I probably will do a little of both.

Salon "Selfie"

Hope you can catch the shade of my hair in this selfie I took after my salon visit this afternoon with minimal makeup (as you can see.)

For the second time in a row I had the same guy do it and this time I think he out did himself with the color.  My hair is a bit short on volume to me but most of that has to do with how he flat ironed it because he cut a minimum amount of hair off. Under threat of bodily harm!

Sorry about not smiling, I really don't like to take pictures of myself - as you can see!

An Extra Shot of "E" Please

I'm very excited about this afternoon! Following a long brutal winter, I'm heading back to my hair salon for a "spring/summer" update.

I refer to the experience as being exposed to a "contact" dose of estrogen.  In other words, it's the female equivalent of going into a car parts store with a bunch of guys.  Of course in the salon I go to, there is the occasional guy and several "very pretty" effeminate male stylists but everyone else is genetic or transgender and is engaged in the feminine pursuit of feeling pampered.

On my first visit a year or so ago, the pampering part is what surprised me the most.  Of course I dearly love what a professional can do for my hair, but how they do it is even more fun.

Of course, each time I learn more and can communicate what I want done-rather than sitting in the chair and saying "what do you think?"  It's yet another example of the old "act like you've been there" quote, because I have.

This afternoon, I know I need my split ends cut off, plus some shaping. Plus, I can afford one highlight added to my basic reddish color, so I'm thinking about going with a lighter semi blond for summer. I have a tendency to over think the process and always forget to remember my hair grows rather fast as does it's color-which does a real quick fade to gray.  What ever I do, it won't take long to repair itself- if I screw it up.

Every time I can afford to go to the salon, I do come back with a greater realization of why women consider it a staple of their lives.  Not only do they look better, they get a chance to relax from the world and get back to feminine bonding,  mostly, with others of the same sex.

Estrogen "Contact High"

After my trip to the hair salon today I believe I can skip a couple days of my estrogen dosage.

There was so much estrogen in the air just breathing it gave me an "Estro contact high"

Today's appointment was thoroughly enjoyable until the very end - when I saw the results.

As you can tell from the smile which is not on my face, I wasn't particularly happy with the result from my replacement stylist.

I guess I have now reached the level of a great majority of genetic women I knew over the years who disliked the results from most of their salon visits intensely.

Perhaps I can compare today's experience to the classic country song "Did I Shave my Legs for This?" Today I paid how much for what?

The New Hair Smell

Most of us have encountered the fabulous "new car smell". Normally it's the expensive smell which fades all too fast when you buy a new car.

Yesterday was hair appointment number three. The salon was very busy due to all the forthcoming New Years Eve parties so I encountered a full staff . Most of whom have not seen me. I have not had time to acclimate them to a transgender woman. The two owners have a very successful charity drag act. Perhaps the drag queen tag is following me with a few of the workers. Overall, I encountered the usual range of  reactions from nothing to little smiles to curiosity. No matter, the clientele didn't seem to notice me at all.

I decided to go a shade darker this time which turned out to be a good decision I think  My stylist worked her magic a little longer this time (especially with the shampoo) because I never have felt my hair feel so silky and nice. Then of course there is the "new hair smell"!

Unfortunately I can enjoy the smell only for a day or two. Now I'm hoping I have learned enough about my hair to manage it better for our New Year parties.

Certainly, during my next appointment I'm going to have to ask my stylist if she will bottle that smell!.

Estrogen Intensive Therapy

Today was visit number two to the hair salon to get my hair color "freshened".
A nice way to say-out with the gray roots.
This visit was yet another "first" in that I was totally feminine when I went today.
When I made the appointment last week, the receptionist changed my name from the male version my daughter originally gave them.  As you might remember I was told to come with about three days worth of beard growth to be evaluated for hair removal for my first visit.

This morning I had a relatively early appointment and really didn't know or care how many others I would encounter in what serves as a lobby in this salon. As it turned out, when I opened the door and walked in there were about five or six young women around the front desk.
Now it's been awhile since time has stopped in front of me.  What I mean is during various points in my transition, certain situations seemed to stop all of the life around me. I was moving in slow motion and the world was stopped or looking at me. This morning though,  I again added a couple extra seconds to the day as all the women just stopped at stared at me. I almost said "I come in peace earthling women. May I come in?"

In reality I just smiled and said "Good Morning" and all was fine. For many of them I may have been the only transgender person they ever knew for sure they encountered. They indeed let me in and even got me a cup of coffee.

As I sat and waited for the stylist, I felt I shouldn't have taken my estrogen today. I could have overdosed with all of it in the air in the salon and I loved it.
Overall,  the pampering and the overall effects today were about the same as visit number one. The big exception was I noticed the three or four other women also getting their hair done were more or less resigned to the process. I wondered how many visits will it take before I join that club too?

Finally I wonder how long it will take for the novelty of having a transgender customer to wear off?  Especially one who is like a kid in a candy store?

Just Another Dose of Nirvana

I guess it's really true- you don't don't know what you are missing if you have access to it all the time-or you have never had it at all.
Sort of like the apple pie your Grannie used to RARELY make when you were a kid. I' m sure if I had it every night, the pie would grow commonplace or if I never had it? Who cares, right?
Today, I went to an upscale full service hair salon-compliments of a birthday gift from my daughter.
OK, I was scared to death. The thought alone of deciding on a hair color alone was giving me cold chills. Another reason I was scared (I realized) came from thoughts I had after a conversation with a close female friend last night. I came away from the talk with the frightening relevation that almost any woman I had ever known in my life hated her hair after the trip to the salon. How was I to be any different?
Well, you all know I'm pretty shy and withdrawn but dammit! What's wrong with all of you? Sure, I understand a hair butchering job as well as the next girl BUT...
As I was waiting for the dye to set in my hair on a soft couch with a cup of coffee and fashion magazines all over the place-I could see it looming on the horizon.
Then, when I was being shampooed and being given a mini facial-I arrived... Nirvana.
Look, I know it's expensive but I know if I could afford it I would be stepping into the same estrogen filled environment as soon as I could.
Was today worth the wait and the fretting? You know it was.
After I come down off this cloud, I will pass along more of how I was an idiot and missed the Nirvana stop for years.
In the meantime, all you genetic women must have been trying to keep this part of your existence a secret for a reason???  It's wonderful...why all the complaining?