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| Image from Garin Chadwick on Unsplash. |
As transgender women, we find when life hands us panty hose, we better wear them.
In my case at least, I had an early love of wearing hose after
I was able to borrow my mom’s electric razor and shave the unwanted hair off my
male legs. Which puberty had gifted me with when I was not looking. Ironically,
if the truth is known, I was probably shaving my legs ahead of many of the
girls in school I admired so much. I say that because if my mom had the daughter
she always wanted, she would not have let me shave my legs and wear makeup as
early as I did.
During my early love affair with Hose, I discovered how
frail they could be as I ran many pairs of my mom’s collection which she never
mentioned to me. Since I was earning a meager amount of weekly income from my
paper route, I discovered buying panty hose was within my reach if I could just
discover the size and shade which fit me the best. I could go to the corner
small department store, gather my courage and be able to buy a new pair of
panty hose and an item of cosmetics and still have a little left over to save
for my next cross-dressing adventure.
Since I was buying my own supplies, I felt less guilty about
searching for clothes in my mom’s wardrobe which still barely fit me as I had
less chances of being caught. But the new problem I was having was where I could
hide my growing collection of feminine belongings where my family would not
find them. Especially, my slightly younger brother. I even resorted to storing
my overflow in plastic bags in an old hollowed out tree I found in the woods
next door to my house. It was far from ideal, but I managed to have my privacy
one way or another.
As I lived my life, I was still in my victim phase of
wondering why I was the only boy I knew who was going through all the contortions
I was going through to be a girl. Why could not I be “normal” like the rest of
my friends. When they were thrown panty hose, they would promptly drop them
like some sort of a hot potato. I on the other hand still enjoyed the electric feel
of the feel of the material on my legs and how good my legs looked in the mini-skirted
fashion of the day. Since I was told I had great legs at Halloween parties I
went to, it was the ideal time to show them off with a pair of panty hose that
I had just bought at a neighborhood convenience store. By this time, I was a
pro at knowing just what I was looking for and always buying it with no
problems.
Thankfully, I finally exited my victim phase of life and
started to embrace and accept who I was thanks to a lifetime of cross-dressing.
Since the term transgender had not been invented yet. By this time, I was
entering the 1980’s with mini-skirts coming back in fashion along with the big
hair. I loved the fashion of the day almost a much as I loved the old hippie days,
I was largely deprived of because of my time in the Army. It was fun when I
could look out for and adjust what I was wearing as a transgender woman, so I
would continue to blend in with the ciswomen around me. Evolving with the times
also involved how I evolved as a transfeminine person because I had a lot of
growing to do if I was ever going to make it to my dream.
I needed to go back and accept what I knew so long ago that much
more than women’s clothes and makeup defined me as a person. I yearned to be
the women I admired so much and had to figure out how to get there. Which
involved more than the simplicity of being presented with panty hose and having
the chance to wear them. What would I ever do about putting in the effort to live
out a life, cross the gender border and successfully exist in the world with
other ciswomen. I write extensively about the time it took me to peel back the
layers I needed to cross on my gender journey to be allowed to be behind the
gender curtain. Where I looked merely opened a few initial doors for me. An
example was what happened when I observed I was the only woman in the room who
was wearing hose at all. Somehow, fashion had come full circle in front of my
eyes and every time I saw a woman wearing hose, I looked closer to see if she
was a cross-dresser.
As far as I am concerned now, my hose wearing days are almost
over along with most of the women I am around. Sadly, I am into leggings and
jeans now more than anything else because I do not go anyplace other than
casual venues where I would be out of place if I dressed up so I have come full
circle in my life once again. Life handed me panty hose initially and I embraced
them totally before I moved on later down my gender road. However, the one fun
thing you can do as a woman is embrace certain fashion styles the best you can.
You are still not tied to the old restrictive male fashion code which evened to
start to change also. Men now are even allowed to wear pink shirts, so who know
what is in store for future men’s fashion. On the runways it is not uncommon to
see a male model wearing woman’s clothes. Maybe someday, cismen will grow out
of their frail sexuality, and the world will change with them.
In the meantime, I will always remember my beginning of a
life of a discovery as a transgender woman. Life did not throw me any lemons,
but it did throw me panty hose in an egg-shaped package. Which I used as a
springboard to move on from there. I managed to proceed through a lifetime of
gender discovery I used to come close to my dream. From there, woman friends of
mine helped to push me across the line I was dreaming of. I was so fortunate to
have had them to help me to yet another electric sensation. The of living an
everyday life as a trans woman.
Thanks for reading along and making comments! Your input is
always welcome as it helps me grow.
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