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I think many of us here understand the power of our first time doing something new and "exciting". Such as our first kiss, the first time behind the wheel of a car, etc.. So, it is with our first experience with women's clothing. From my personal memories, and also hearing from so many of you, it seems we can remember that moment with incredible clarity. While so many memories gradually fade and blend in to one another, our first time remains clear and sharp. Also, it seems the majority of us started by going through our mothers or sisters dresser drawer and being amazed at the "strange, exotic, and alluring" underwear they wore compared to our plain cotton briefs. What mysterious creatures that were allowed to dress in such
"impractical clothing". How could we not become hooked?
I really cannot remember the exact first time. But many early memories of trying on women’s clothes stick out in my mind
First times are precious, Maureen.
Sometimes I think I clearly remember my first women's piece, and it seems to me that it was a one-piece bathing suit. I am almost sure. But other times, I get a confusing mix of memories. Perhaps I can paraphrase a poem by Edgar Allan Poe:
It was many and many a year ago,
In a country by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Gisela Claudine.
Maureen -
The memories of firsts - what an interesting topic.
As I remember my first dressing experience: it was after school, home alone I went into my parents room. I looked in my mother's lingerie drawer and took out a pair of black lace trimmed panties, a matching bra, garter belt and stockings. I put them on and posed in front of the mirror. I took it all off and pout it back where I found it. I would dress a couple days a week when home alone. I slowly added a dress. That lasted for about a year, the risk of getting caught became too high so I stopped.
XOXO
Suzanne
I had a memory where it was actually my mother who put me in a dress when she entered me in a fancy dress competition as 'Lady Muck', I was four! I remember the location and felt really nice walking about with the other girls I don't remember any boys entering. That started me off as I would wear my sisters clothes ad would be happy to dress as a girl for fun with the approval of the family.
I often wondered if there was any photos of that event and my mother said there wasn't. Many years later after her passing while going through her effects grainy cuttings from local newspapers were found of this and other events where I dressed. So there is photographic evidence of my very first dressing experience.
Oh yes, we do remember our firsts, but the second and thirds, become fuzzy fast.
One of the things that keeps me dressing is the challenge of new things. While I enjoyed my first time dressing as a pre-teen, I also enjoyed my first time buyi g a bra, or my first vra fitting, going out in public, shopping for a wig, getting a make over, etc, etc, etc. Unfortunately, after all these years there are not too many firsts left to be had, so I have settled into a pattern of just enjoying the moment. It goesback to my thread of the thrill not being gone, but just settling into a pleasent pattern.
I love new challenges, but at my age there are fewer options, at least for things I am capable of doing.
It is not a race, nor are there any prizes, other than self satisfaction. Some people are bold and like to push boundaries, both personal or societal, others are perfectly happy with the satus quo.
I just like doing new things and having new experiences, and dressing is just one of them. Many things I found fun, and glad I did them, and still may enjoy them, but they are not a priority for me. Others things have become a part of me and while I may not tick off new firsts, I still enjoy them. Dressing is one of them. I suspect I always will dress even though I am no longer push many new boundries for myself. To go back to my usual skiing analogy. While I am still dropping double diamond ski runs, my age and body no longer allow me to push the limits like I used to, and I am okay with that. Soon, I won't even be able to drop the challenging runs I can currently ski, and while I will miss it when it happens, I am content. I already passed that point in my rock climbing, and have had to scale way back my choices, but I have a wealth of memories of both rock climbing and skiing firsts, as I do with my dressing.
My first time, I was 14 and had the house to myself. Random thought - what would it feel like to dress up like a girl?
So I borrowed one of my sister's bras, a pair of her knickers and a pair of her tights. Put them on, slipped a paid of rolled up socks into each bra cup and slipped on one of her dresses.
The bra and knickers were white, the tights were green, ribbed tights and the dress was one she had made. and was a beige colour A-line shape with a narrow waist.
I wandered round the house, stopped and looked at myself in different mirrors, I could feel the dress swishing on my legs, the draught. I had an hour, maybe not much more to safely had the house to myself but that hour has stuck with me.
This was nearly 40 years ago, it still feels like yesterday.