RANSVESTIA

wooden number but the audience didn't seem to care. The "Can- Can," with the boys showing their frilly panties, black garters and petticoats along with many high kicks, wasn't really up to the standard of the girls, but they received much more applause than the girls had ever received.

Nadine had the boys remove their wigs at the end of the session so that they could feel properly foolish standing before the audience in various stages of a woman's undress. The heavy applause didn't help at all nor did the snide remarks from Ace and some of the stage hands as they swished, wiggled or tiptoed back to the dressing room.

"Never again!" snarled Farrell Prior, throwing his Afro wig onto the table in front of his makeup mirror. He sat down in the loose-fitting gown he had ended in, the light-colored panti-hose and dark high heels making the most of his shapely legs.

Marty Salter took off his gown first and hung it on the rack. In bra, panties, nylons and garters, he looked disturbingly feminine as he sauntered to high table, a slight wiggle of his backside, a bounce at his chest. He took off the extra false eyelashes beneath his eyes, but left on his wig.

"Come on, Marty," said David Rennick awkwardly. He was sitting in slip and nylons, panties underneath. "At least, take your wig off."

Marty gave him a quizzical smile. David looked at himself in his mirror and could see why. His own hair was naturally long, and even though it was a mess, with long earrings and heavy makeup, he still looked like a woman.

Farrell was ripping the loose dress away from himself in frustration. A string of beads popped and beads cascaded all over the floor. In the white bikini panties, white stockings, garters and bra, Farrell looked just like a sexy, "foxy," black girl. Again, the lack of wig didn't hurt as the makeup changed his genderal orientation com- pletely.

Babe Corbin was still in wig and long white evening gown, dabbing at his glossy, red lipstick. He made no effort to change his dress nor to take off his wig or makeup. "That wasn't so bad, was it:" he whispered to Clinton Hart, the sixth male dancer, a quiet, fair-