in song or story shall see my writ! Onward then to explain how and why and where I have enjoyed my life in that state

and what Socity does, or tries to do, to you if being other- wise genetically determined by nature, you elect to live out your social life in the role of a woman.

But how do I treat this subject with lightness and with whimsey while still being sui- tably serious and without over- stepping the frontiers of good taste? Admittedly, these days, they are shadowy and illmarked; but they are there (somewhere) and must be respected, so I shall devise a way of staying within them having no passport, nor wanting any, for the Never- Never land of Porn. It won't be too hard though as humour dignifies all things save the tax return and the dentist's chair. So perhaps if I put my sense of humor in top gear and aim to keep it there nobody will get injured (or bored) too much. Unless it's me! And to prove my sincerity I won't weary you with the customary out- pouring about "My First Ven- ture Into Skirts." I can't re- member anyway!

·

us-

Most crossdressers pour out their story at the drop of an eye- lash and invariably it is given in the form of long and highly sty- lised accounts of how they were first dressed as girls ually. It often was the story of a fond mother who had wanted a girl or a bored serving wench in the family home, or a stern and punitive butch aunt. And thereafter, the accounts go, they were hooked on frocks and frills and furbelows. Often blamed, too, are older sisters, seducing brothers into young dresses which the poor lads are unable to resist.

In the light of my own ex- perience, I find that none of the

above things happened to me. Certainly nobody ever conned me into skirts but even if they had, I am quite sure that only am already builtin preference for being dressed and treated as a little girl could have kept me in them.

Many crossdressers are ra- ther effeminate. Such effeminacy is not really surprising. After all, the dedicated crossdresser's aim is to simulate, as far as his physical limitations and his cos- metic skills will allow, the ap- pearance and behavior of a wo- man. I guess that if women slept every night standing up in a corner like so many umbrellas or walked on their hands, then crossdressers would want to copy those mores, too.

The great majority of cross- dressers, when in their feminine role, are just openly happy to accept little social courtesies from men and, otherwise, to con- duct themselves in as womanly a manner as may be. A small and noisy minority militantly protest their essential mascu- linity (despite all the cosmetics and feminine clothing) at every opportunity but I don't think that they are very much be- lieved.

In transvestite folk lore we come to the famous Guilt Complex. Most of us are bligh- ted with this during those early years when we are seriously worried about this peculiarity and very often are convinced that they are the only unfortun- ate males on earth so afflicted. Of course now that there are helpful and enlightened cross- dressing organizations like Tri- Ess around, these worries do not last long. But despite this, cross- dressers are commonly freneti- cally anxious to find some way of socially rationalizing their dressing as women. One of the most frequent ploys is to urge 6

on any listener that they have been able to corner that in days gone by, many famous, brave, pioneering and demon- strably virile males have been crossdressers, too. They rein- force these shadowy bits of an- tiquity by asserting that most of the crossdressers they know, or have heard of, are to be found in the strongly male-oriented vocations.

It is also urged that cross- dressers tend to indulge en- thusiastically and competently in sports such as football, motor racing, and, for all I know, pig-sticking and tiger shooting and Russian roulette as well. Now all this may be true but as a combined explanation and jus- tification of dressing as a woman while being still, at heart, one- of-the-boys, I never find it very convincing. Personally I find no difficulty in imagining a rugby- playing, beer-swilling, speedway- racing, rock-climbing, and much decorated military lothario who, in the privacy of his boudoir, is as Gay as the Gordons and as Camp as a Row of Tents on Salisbury Plain. As a matter of fact, I could touch one or two with a very short stick!

The excuses are always un- convincing (to me) and why ex- plain anyway? If you don't have to? Admittedly, crossdress- ing is hardly a social asset in what currently passes for polite society but trying to justify or glorify it is unlikely to make life any easier for either the crossdresser or the straight folk he lives and works among. For example, if the boss finds out that his star salesman habitually dresses as a woman in his spare time he is unlikely to fire him as long as his sales figures are high and look like staying that way; conversely, it is a short trip to the door when sales are bad. When on very rare occasions