Transvestia

"Yes,

I replied, hesitatingly,

I added. Satisfied,

of singers,

"I do impersonations

Mr. S. continued

with his preparations and I with my make-up. But as with Mr. P., when I got to the crucial stage of applying lipstick, Mr. S. retired to a back room.. ... Nothing said, he just left.

Once more, I hurriedly went into full masquerade, even though Mr. S. kept reassuringly calling out that I should take my time.

At last I was ready and told him

to come back in. A more or less straight-laced type, Mr. S., I believe, felt that somehow I had deceived him,

had mis-led him. It was nothing he said, just something in his manner.

The photographs were utterly horrible.

The strain of the surrepetitious manner in which I went into the relationship with Mr. S, was visibly evi- dent in Adelaide's expression. Also, the poses were stiff, awkward, and reflected the subtle tension that must have existed during the session. But the $10 sitting fee and the cost of the resulting 5 8X10 prints was again, a wonderful investment.

The prints carried Mr. S. S name stamped across the bottom margin, where I would have of course, preferred to have my stage name printed something Mr. S. hadn't been equipped to do either.

Increasingly bold now, even to the point of not worrying about the family reaction to all my activity with photographers, (proofs arriving in the mail, phone calls, etc.) I called a local photographer and arranged a session. Once more, I explained that the photograph would be of me in a "costume."

But Mr. H., when I arrived with all my baggage, wanted more pertinent details. I was ready. First I asked him if he knew Mr. S. Yes, he did. Then I casual- ly explained that I had been working with Mr. S. I pulled out the five 8X10s Mr. S. had made and showed them to him.

"Can we do something like this?" I asked.