Chapter 5 of 6 (Not work place safe)

Our story follows 72 year old Joanie from a confused childhood to her Golden Years. Joanie reflects on the events and quirks of fate that led her to becoming Joanie. Her story culminates in her final purge.
Have you ever taken the road less traveled road? Joanie reflects on how she evolved, on her first purge and how she became a living dress form.

Previously

I thought I would never have sex again. I was wrong. While at a mountain summer camp near Big Bear a few months later, while feeling lonely and missing Michelle, I allowed a handsome older camp counselor to entice me into the forest. Afterwards, when I returned to my cabin, I immediately popped a mint into my mouth, applied chap stick and began tweezing pine needles out of my knee caps.

Chapter 5 - At Home: Joanie reflects

During middle school my mother occasional used me to stretch her new high heels. Too tight on her my feet fit her heels fairly well; her heels just needed to be broken in. My after school assignment was to wear her heels around the house while watching TV, going to the kitchen, to the bathroom, etc. I’d break-in her new shoes until they were comfortable enough for her to wear them at work. In fact wearing her shoes was educational and exciting to me. I didn’t complain.

I discovered that thin nylon ped socks or knee high nylons were needed in order to slip into mom’s shoes. Imagine that! I “needed” to wear nylons. Michelle would have been proud of me. I have to agree that I was truly fortunate. It was Michelle and mom that helped Joanie develop as a young woman.

Mom used to sew and mend her clothes in her youth. She used a sewing machine and made clothes from Simplicity patterns. We were about the same height so I became her living dress form as she adjusted her hems or tried a new pattern. She used straight pins, a tape measure, scissors, tailor chalk and me. I didn’t complain.

To make sure her skirt hems were straight and level when she wore heels I also had to wear high heels as she finalized the hem length of her skirts and dresses. If heels were not worn then the hemline would be off… I was told. It seemed reasonable to me. Again, I did not complain.

While she was working on a pretty ‘top of the knee’ dress mom was having difficulty in getting the darts of the breast area correct. It seems my flat chest wasn’t helping her project. Taking a break from her efforts she told me to relax while she had a cup of coffee in the kitchen and collected her thoughts. While she was in the kitchen I went to her bedroom and put on a blue underwire demi bra that I just ‘happened’ to know would fit me. I stuffed the cups, as usual, with some of my socks and went back to the den to complete my dress form duties. Standing in high heels and nylon stockings, while wearing a bra and dress, truly thrilled me. Somehow it made me feel complete.

Returning from the kitchen mom paused as she noticed my new endowments. She looked me up and down while collecting her thoughts. After a few moments she commented, “I think you saved our project.” She made no other comment. Having me wear a bra became a regular part of her seamstress projects. I became very proficient at tucking my male bulge. Michelle would have been proud of me. I often wondered what mom must have thought about the initiative I took. I also wondered why I didn’t have the courage to dress like that when not being a human mannequin. Life has regrets.

Based upon my experience wearing mom’s and Michelle’s 4 inch heels is why, later in life, I bought sensible black pumps with only a 2 ½ inch heel. (Thank you mom, thank you Michelle) After age 55 I switched to a more practical, more stable ‘chunky’ heel rather than the traditional spike heel.

A need for Joanie to look more girly

It was during eighth grade that I realized that my ‘boy’ eye glasses distracted from the girly image I desired. I plotted on how to obtain a prescription set of cat eye ‘girl’ eye-wear. I knew I could steal the frames but how could I get prescription lens? In eighth grade I got contact lens! Problem solved! My female self image took a large boost. My first contact lenses (mid 1960s) were hard, rigid and tough to get used to. My parents were amazed at my dedication to getting used to them. The desire to appear more feminine is a fantastic motivator to a young cross-dresser. I made the lens work and was ecstatic that I had them.

During my high school years Avon Cosmetics sold make-up door to door and always left several mini sample tubes of lipstick, makeup and a catalog. Oh, how I looked forward to their visits and freebies. It gave me a chance to experiment with flesh tones and lip colors. I went through a phase where I’d wear two different colors of lipstick to create a color that was uniquely mine. A white lipstick with a darker color on top of it makes for an interesting shade. You should try it sometime.

The Kinks classic song “Lola” and The Beatles “Get Back” became my personal anthems.

Live and learn

While babysitting one time, when the kid was asleep, I tried a neighbor’s bright red lipstick. It really looked cool on me but I didn’t like the smell or taste. I thought it made me look too slutty. It was then that I realized that I was a Revlon Super Lustrous Moon Drops sort of girl which smells and tastes great. After a couple hours of wearing the red, and just before the parents were due home, I diligently went to remove the lipstick. It would not come off! It would come off a little but the red stain remained. I was panicking.

I retrieved the lipstick and read the label on the bottom of the gold tube… it was a “Long Lasting 24 Hour” type of lip color! Oh, my God! I used soap and water and I finally used cold crème like Michelle had taught me. I can truthfully say that I don’t like the taste of cold crème. I rubbed, scrubbed and repeated. I rubbed my lips raw but finally, just in time, dulled the color to a passable normal boy lips. Damn that was close.

During high school I evolved to more frequently wearing bras, panties, panty girdles (with nylon stocking ready garter clips) and nylons/pantyhose in general. Considering that mom had found it perfectly fine for me to be her living dress form and shoe stretcher I found no problem in borrowing her clothing, lingerie and cosmetics. Summer vacation from school gave me eight hours to be Joanie while my parents were at work.

There was a lazy summer day, when school was out and the folks were at work, that I put on a pair of panties, pantyhose, painted my finger nails and colored my lips. I went about my day feeling pretty and feeling special. I had eight hours to do and wear what I wanted. I spent the day applying and reapplying a variety of pretty lipsticks and nail polishes. I cleaned my nails and just before mother got home from work I cleaned my lips with wet tissue, soap and water. I tossed the stained tissue in the toilet but forgot to flush the evidence.

Later in the evening mom called me into the bathroom and asked me about all the red stained tissue in the toilet. I thought I was going to die from fear and embarrassment. Looking into the toilet bowl I tried to sound unconcerned and said “Oh, I painted a model car and cleaned my brush”. She looked at me closely and reached over and flushed the toilet. “Flush next time” is all she said. Did she believe me? Probably not. But she didn’t say anything more, didn’t make a fuss or worse of all, and didn’t mention it to dad.

On yet another occasion my lips were sporting a bit of color when mom got home and I was asked “What’s that color on your mouth?” I explained it away as being from a cherry Popsicle.

Dad came home early one day and I had to quickly pull on my Levis to hide my hose. I wasn’t wearing socks to cover the easily visible reinforced toes of my nylons, just tennis shoes. If he noticed my taupe stockings he never said. I guess that's part of the excitement. It was about this time in my life that I discovered that if your wear two pairs of stockings/pantyhose that your hairy legs go un-noticed when wearing a skirt or dress. The sensations and feeling of sliding on a pair pretty lace trimmed panties or pettipants on top of hose was always exquisite. Pettipants, or slip pants as they are called now were perfect for me.

First purge

It was in 10th grade when I had my first ‘purge’ of all my girly stuff. Guilt and shame can make a person do lots of things. I tossed Joanie’s clothing collection out and swore I would be a ‘good boy’ and never indulge in cross dressing again. This is easy to say but difficult to do when the urge and need to feel girly runs so very deep. I think this purge compulsion can be traced back to age 5 when I was forbidden to go outside if I wore a dress. “Boys don’t wear dresses.”

From personal experience and research I learned that cross-dressers typically go through a series of “binge and purge” episodes regarding their female clothing stash. You acquire some nice clothing, make-up and literature; you feel guilty, vow to cease and desist and toss (purge) out your collection of feminine things. Then you start all over until the next time. I have gone through this cycle at least three times. But the urge, need and desire to express the Joanie side of me never went away

NEXT - Chapter 6: Conclusion - What am I, will it go away and why me?

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