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Hi ladies,
Sit back with a “wee dram” and have a chuckle at these “Travellers Tales”
The zip on my garment bag let go at an airport in Northern Europe. That was the compartment with all Caty’s “unmentionables”. (Including my forms and wigs….).Luckily “company policy” was to carry them all in plastic shopping bags. Cos all that could be seen was my garment bag and about six shopping bags merrily parading around the baggage carousel, in front of a plane load of people waiting for their bags.
A VERY quick “ baggage collection” ensued and I was out of that airport quicker than a 747 on take off….
<u>CHAPTER 1 “I WUZ ROBBED”</u>
Transformation Shop, Manchester UK, late ’80’s. Overnight stay organised, so is Caty. So I’m wandering around the shop with my “spare wallet”, with quite a few quid in it I might add. Put it down on the counter and get distracted for a few seconds. Another “punter” in the shop was far too quick for me, lost the lot… That took the edge off that stay as well…….Later years Transformation shot one of their early CD videos in the rooms above the shop. Brought back memories of my lost, “currency of the British realm”.
On one trip to an Australian capital I arranged to go to a dressing service, which, OK, offered “other services”. (Not that I “indulged” in same). So Caty is all dressed and made up and having a nice time with the lady “assistant”, when suddenly this “nutter with a knife” bursts into the room looking for money.
Now even in “male mode” I could not fight my way out of a wet paper bag, so I had no hope of ever doing much whilst in “Caty mode”. So I just sat there calmly and handed over my wallet and he took off like a scalded cat..
OK, that got most of the “bodily harm” problem out of the way. But if the police got there before I got out of the place, I would have ended up a/. as a star witness in an armed robbery case and b/. divorced.
So off comes the clothes and make up and back into male mode and then I’m out on a busy main road circa midnight, with no money and desperately searching for a cab.
If “fortune favours the brave” (aka damn fool for going to this establishment in the first place), it sure did that night. I did manage to get a cab and I did manage to convince reception at my hotel to let me back into my room to pay the cabbie.
But I think I hid under the bed covers for about an hour after I got back to my room. Helped calm me down a bit.
Chapter 2/. MORE MASCARA, (if you don’t laugh you”ll cry) MESSERS
Early morning in a ladies recycle shop in Sydney. (pre Internet!!) I’d written in advance and was welcomed by the owner. I’m in the changing room trying on a few dresses and she gets “invaded” by some “genuine” customers. Just as well I’d allowed PLENTY of time before I was due to do my first sales call for the day, cos they took what seemed liked at ETERNITY to leave the shop. Don’t remember if I bought anything, just leaving in a hell of a hurry.
I go to a very good East London dressing service with the objective of looking my best and then out to a trans friendly nightclub. I felt great and thought I looked the same. Before we left, the owner puts on a very long blonde wig, obviously her “disguise” for the night. Outside the club and on arrival, some passers by said “oh, look at that tranny”. My reaction?? They must be referring to “long blonde wig” beside me….
A long time Pommy tranny contact lines me up with his make up artist partner and off we head to the famous “Ron Storme’s” tranny nightclub in London. Again I’m looking and feeling great. Coffees at a late night caf afterwards at a tranny friendly place complete with Karoake. Two memories. “Christine” gets up and does (deep baritone?) Karoake to a song I still hear on the radio, but right now the title wont come to me. 2/. Another tranny joins us and tells me to improve my beard cover, cos its showing through my make up.
That deflated poor old Catherine Louise’s ego more than somewhat. With “compliments” like that it’s no wonder I “signed the pledge” for as long as I did. Tho I do recall a couple of “tranny admirers” eyeing me off that night. Did not know whether to be scared or flattered…
Early on in my CD travelling days I was befriended by a new North American client and utlimately invited to his home for dinner.
So I of course went to some trouble to buy a gift for my hosts, from memory I think it was a bottle of good Aussie wine. Trouble was, (HUGE “BBOOOOB” BBBOOOOO), I got my shopping bags a bit mixed up. Yes, the wine bottle was there but also in the bottom the bag was one of my first attempts to purchase some cheap foam falsies.
Somehow, we all got over this very “em BRA cing” (abb. embarrasing), moment and I kept in contact with this couple on many a trip afterwards.
Chapter 3/. FUNNY NOW, BUT NOT THEN!!!
Back in the mid 90’s Caty achieved a very long held ambition to stay overnight with Juliette at Sophie’s Dressing Service, then of Plymouth and one of the best of that ilk in the UK. Had a great time, (see photos on my CDH profile).
Plan B after leaving there was to spend the day as Caty driving to my next accomodation down in Cornwall. About a four hour drive and a huge conundrum. Whilst I was wanting the “world” to see what a great job Juliette had done turning me into Caty, I was equally scared witless that someone would “spring” me.
It was supposed to be a “tranny friendly B&B”. Instead it was a dump of a place run by a very scary character whom when I arrived greeted me in the driveway in the “full disaster”, “external” S&M gear. Black everything, boots, full cape, hat, the works. The “accomodation” walls were covered in all manner of S&M posters and prints.
Needless to say I found this very unnerving and having paid in advance, got out of there ASAP next morning and as the “normal me” hightailed it to a “normal” hotel.
SCARY FUNNY II
On another trip, location, a North American town. Local CD group cajoles me out for dinner dressed. I was petrified, but starvation was the only other option. But I survived the night OK. Next day I’m “out on the road” with one of the local reps and it gets to lunch and he pulls into the same town. I thought, “if he takes me into the same restaurant, I’m gone”. Luckily no. Have the photos from then too. Really look like a man in a dress… But I improved as the years rolled by
SCARY FUNNY III
I made “penfriends”, (remember them?? “pre FB”, Facebook), with someone in a major northern capital city. So I went there for a dressing session one night. It all went well, until a/. this person became “tipsy” and b/. started making “untoward suggestions”. So I made a VERY quick change back to “me” and headed for my rental car. Opened the boot and this big “plus size” blighter promptly sat in it and refused to move…
I got him out… eventually and yes, that was another night of getting back to the safety of my hotel.
The “P”TOWN (HUGE) PROBLEM
I distinctly remember sitting at my desk at work, planning the next O/S trip and the critical business dates I needed to be “there today, somewhere else tomorrow” BINGO!. This trip coincided with the The Tiffany Club of New England’s three day TG Convention at Provincetown out on Cape Cod. One of the best and longest running in the States. “YAY!! I CAN GO TO P’TOWN!!!”
Got there and by the time the resident make up artist had finished with me I looked and felt like a million bucks. (Blonde wig, black Liz Davenport pant suit, matching black dangly earrings, 4” black high heels, etc etc.) Half way through the first night, what I thought was serious health problem re-emerged. (Travel stress caused it). I panicked and got back to “me” in very short order and headed back to Boston like a scalded cat. So what should have been three days of crossdressing bliss just did not happen.
<u>Chapter 6/. “ER INDOORS WILL GO SPARE”</u>
Just a couple relating to my ex “‘er indoors”. (Translation for US readers, ex wife). I once overheard her conversation with someone, (whom does not matter for this story), when she was talking about expensive ladies clothing.
“No one we know wears Schaparelli or Dior stockings”. Wrong dearest, they always were a weakness of mine… Sotto voce, of course…(Black, seamless, preferably with a nice tight corset and high heels, both black…,naturally!!)
Later years of our time together I would arrange to meet her somewhere in Oz or NZ on the back end of one of my o/s work trips for a holiday… Hmmm… Planning required here. If I cant ditch Caty’s stuff before we meet I’m in deep, deep, do do. (Remember she hated my CD’ing with a passion, but give me credit, I did tell her early on, she did not find out the hard way).
So….. Flights are organised so that I get in well before her, cheap motel rooms are booked for a few hours, “packaging materials” sent there well in advance and if all goes to plan, Caty’s gear is despatched from the local post office to my “secure address” at home and I’m all smiles back at the airport as she gets off her plane.
Back up plan in case flight schedules come unstuck??? Buy cheap luggage at last work port of call, pack Caty’s stuff in that before check in and if necessary, beseech airline staff to send it to me at home as unaccompanied luggage. Did not come to this, tho’ did have to carry a “modicum” of Caty’s gear around a NZ holiday once, labelled in my bags as “quote samples”. Awkward Customs decs and getting it in back into OZ, you see.
Hope you all got a chuckle and perhaps picked up a few ideas!!
Happy dressing
Caty
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