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by alisond
in

2 things: I need to learn how to pose, I need to learn how to smile!!!!

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EnFemme

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Alison Dumerre

I have been “dressing" since about the age of 10, which takes me to a total of 52 years of messing with frocks, tights, slips, panties and various other feminine articles of couture. For the most part I have loved every minute of it. Indeed I have traversed the many foibles that is the part of the cross dresser. The hiding away in secrecy lest I am caught en-femme and brought to abject ridicule, the gnawing feeling that there may yet be a trace of lipstick evident even after thoroughly scrubbing the lips with a tooth brush laden far too heavily with toothpaste and being subjugated to a scrubbing just short of making the lips bleed. I remember well my initiation into the wonders of feminine apparel. My Mom did a lot of sewing for the local folks and used me as her modelling mannequin. “Here Nooks (a pet name I hated with a passion) put this on, I need to see how it hangs and that the seams are all correct”. Mummy dear found that to be quite in order and there was nothing weird about it at all, not in her mind at least. I dared not let on that I wanted to keep the dress on after the fitting was completed. I knew better than to even try. However, the monster had been fed it’s first morsel. The fires of hell had been lit with an incendiary that refused quenching. What was a 10 year old to do? Oh, the obvious, naturally ! I sneaked into her wardrobe and availed myself of certain garments which she had long since outgrown. I also borrowed a pair of high heels and some lipstick. What was I thinking! Clearly not with my brain. I did myself up in all the finery, applied the lipstick and was admiring the finished product when, horror of horrors, she swept into the room to find me in my, no doubt garish, finery. Oh boy, oh girl, oh whatever! Did she lose her marbles! I don’t remember being thrashed, which in itself was unusual, but I do remember being made to feel ashamed and dirty. I was made to disrobe immediately and taken to the bathroom where my face was thoroughly scrubbed. Ah, a thought springs to mind. That must be the subconscious driver for the toothpaste regimen I got into later in life! With that rather humiliating event my rather immature adventures into cross dressing ended. The door was slammed shut, inexorably slammed in my prepubescent face. For a few short years, as it transpired. I was soon, at the age of 13 to be living with my uncle and aunt who had a daughter 2 years my junior. Yesssss, a new source of clothes that actually fitted. I shan’t get into that other than to say I survived without being caught again. After my years of living with them I was soon out in the workforce fending for myself and able to dress as I wanted. I do need to expand on my normal day to day attire. The clothing I chose was always somewhat feminine. Tight jeans, loose tops that were what was known back then as “uni-sex” styled clothing. At this point you are probably thinking “Well, what was your sexual bias?” That answer is simple, very much hetero. I know full well that more than a few people thought I just had to be gay, however I was merely a late bloomer when it came to girls. I knew how to wear their pants but for the life of me I had not the foggiest notion of how to get into them!

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    Joan Michelle
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    Joan Michelle
    1 year ago

    Beautiful photo and well written biography.

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