Desmond Morris - 'The Naked Woman': Pt 3 The Brow!

High brow...

No brow...

When I first started playing around with make-up a year or two back I didn't realise how important brows were. Lipstick was the most obvious addition to start playing around with and then various eye-shadows and mascaras and it was only as an afterthought that I wondered what to do with my eyebrows. It was really only after sitting down and actually looking at mine before comparing them to magazine models that I became fascinated by the range and different types of eyebrows on display. Plucked, arched, tattooed, bushy, black, brown, those that used pencil or powder to colour the hair and those that almost painted on points and flowing lines. The variety on display was amazing, and what for me was even more amazing was that I hadn't realised exactly what was going on for so long! I think more than any other part of the human female face contemplating the female eyebrow was a real epiphany for me. 

Of course one result of this was that the varying eyebrow styles of every BBC Breakfast presenter would be carefully studied and pronounced upon; interesting commuter passengers noted and casual acquaintances duly assessed. Eyebrows, I discovered, were a real feminine trait par excellence and one that cross-dressers really needed to be aware of if the male beetle brow wasn't to prove too much of a distraction. 

Onto the book itself though. In the opening section of the chapter Morris provides a lot of information on both the bony brow and the hairy tufts that adorn it and for me one of the first surprises is that they are not specifically designed to keep rain/sweat/rain out of the eye. Oh no. In fact they are primarily a means of communicating, albeit on a fairly subtle way. Unlike chimps and other apes we have a high forehead, basically extra storage space for the brain, but this blank canvas can also serve as a handy space upon which our eyebrows can dance and a range of wrinkles develop according to our moods. To sum up this section of the chapter as succinctly as possible, they consist of the following six categories -

Eyebrows lower: Basically a frown which also produces little lines between the brows. It can indicate either an aggressive scowl or an anticipatory wince.

Eyebrows raised: A 'furrowed' brow indicating one of many states including wonder, amazement, surprise, arrogance, incomprehension, fear etc. etc.

Eyebrow cock: A bit of a tricky one to carry out, but one up and one down usually signifies scepticism.

Cocking. Trickier than it looks...

Eyebrows knit: Anxiety, pain and a sudden wince

Eyebrows flash: Apparently "The brief upward flick of the eyebrows is an important and apparently universal human greeting signal"  and it's usually performed at a bit of a distance. It's also used in conversation for emphasis and as a bit of a marker

Maybe he's in the wrong job?

Eyebrows shrug: Basically an Eyebrow flash that's held a bit for extra effect and that's often combined with a mouth shrug as well. A bit like those pictures of unhappy clowns who have a tear rolling down a cheek. You know the ones - furrowed brow, droopy lips and pinched eyebrows. Well that's the eyebrow shrug for you...

All of this opening section is well and good, but it's pretty general stuff and doesn't really provide any specifically feminine pointers, but then Morris gets on to a very obvious physical difference between male and female eyebrows - namely female eyebrows are thinner and less bushy than males. Of course this has led to the desire to 'super-feminise' these traits by artificially increasing this difference through plucking, tweezing and waxing. As much as possible the eyebrow position was also raised on the face to remove the appearance of frowning, apparently an indicator of age.

AS a result of the super-feminising of the eyebrows un-plucked eyebrows then became a 'masculine' trait or at least non-sexual in nature. Working class girls were discouraged from plucking and having un-plucked, heavy brows was a real statement, especially from artists such as Frida Kahlo and her famous monobrow or actress Brooke Shields in the 80s. I have to say that one woman who seems to me to really know the power of the eyebrow to both transgress and communicate is the artist Tracey Emin. Photos of her show the full range of eyebrow positions and she really gets them working!

For the cross-dresser about the best you can hope for is to surreptitiously pluck the wandering hairs a bit, gently mow the thatch to a manageable length and maybe attempt to clear as much scrub from underneath the brow as possible in an attempt to provide a bit of space for some eyeshadow (oh, and maybe a bit of light powder as well? Good luck with all that though if you're still in any sort of closet...

And this is what a fine pair of statement eyebrows look like...

Makeup and Masks

I spent this Halloween evening at the wonderful Rivoli Ballroom in Brockly at the glorious Magic Theatre costume ball, a twice-yearly bash that happens roughly at Easter and Halloween. The venue itself is London's last remaining 50s ballroom and not surprisingly is much in demand for filming various music videos, television and films, making a wonderfully atmospheric place for such an event.

Halloween was made for shy, new or closet TVs as it's the one time in the year that you can try to get away with a bit of surreptitious cross-dressing on the sly. For those slightly more confident it then becomes a great time to try a ballgown or some other fantasy item you couldn't expect to carry off at any other time and for those of us who are thinking more about the actual Halloween side of things it means lots of white face paint and black eye shadow! 

It's this reliance on the transformative act of face painting is actually the nub of the issue that I've been turning over in my mind. Basically 'when does make-up start being serious?' or more to the point why did I start feeling that the ghoul was inferior to the glam?

Two faces met across a crowded room...

I'd done a goth sort of look for this event before but for the following two years I was pretty normal-ish in the make-up department. However as this Halloween Ball actually fell on 31st October itself I sort of assumed that horror would be the dish of the day. And this was fine.  Great in fact because (surprise, surprise...) I've always enjoyed a fancy dress do or any chance to dress up, drab or not. So on to youtube to find some inspiration for my horror look. Eventually I came up with what seemed to be a Marilyn Manson style which I thought might do the trick (or treat...). 

In the event of course I neither had the products, the skills or the ability to get anywhere near the standard on the youtube video  (curse their flawless skin, un-saggy eyelids and their 20/20 vision!) and as the product started going on I was slowly becoming more disheartened. The white is never white enough, the black not dark enough. Everything was blotchy and thick and messy and of course I didn't have the right colours either. I'd already spent ages customising Depressed Ted and had also put together a hybrid gothic schoolgirl/vampire ensemble which I thought was OK - not great, but OK - and if anything the make-up was detracting from it. It was becoming a slight make-down if anything...

Birds of a face paint feather stick together...

When contemplating the evening ahead I had thought that I was secure enough in my dressing to happily slap anything horrific onto my face and act the ghoul without feeling that I had to be all glitz and glam. I thought that, as when in drab fancy dress, the face paint added to the overall fun and jollity so was an essential element to be treasured. It wasn't quite shaping up like that though and strange enough one other thing I hadn't counted on was that no-one would actually recognise me!  When I stopped to chat to friends and acquaintances I was getting blanked and then trying to explain who I was by talking over the music with a set of dental-paste implanted Nosferatu fangs wasn't helping a great deal either. By now not only was I feeling slightly envious of all those who elected to wear ball-gowns and sequins with matching flawless look but it soon became apparent that, like a ghost or un-quiet spirit, I seemed to be drifting between two worlds, caught in a phantasmagorial state of invisible social limbo!

Eventually, as the evening wore on my patience wore down. I chickened out and removed the black lips and teeth which helped somewhat. However one interesting thing that struck me about the situation was the bond of kinship that sprang up with others in a similar horror-mask situation. Small groups of facepaint heros were forming loose bands for mutual support, photos and the sharing of black Kohl. We re-assured each other that we looked great and you know... maybe we did. But I wasn't convinced (about me that is. They looked great).

I was obviously suffering a mis-match between what I thought would look good on my face and what I wanted to be on my face. When in drab mode I'd be happy to wear pure horror make-up, but unlike the lovely ladies in the photos who were happy to forego their 'looks' for the evening, I realised that I was feeling a tad resentful because being in a dress had effectively changed my mindset. Mind you, not drinking probably didn't help but I realised I wasn't quite as secure as I thought. I offer this as an illustrative guide

                       Dress + Femme > Horror x Bad Makeup

                                                whereas

                       Horror x Bad Make-up > Drab + Alcohol

On the night it was lovely spending time with the Crayon Crew, however next year I'm afraid I think I'll be chickening out. I've decided to leave the slapdash frenzy of childish facepaints and edge my way over to the far more photogenic world of grown-up make-up. 

I think I owe it to my stronger than suspected sense of narcissism!

Desmond Morris - 'The Naked Woman' - Pt. 2: Hair, The Crowning Glory!

'Just a trim please...'

Strangely enough I had an example that bought home to me just how important hair can be when cross-dressing a few weeks ago. Basically I'd spent ages selecting just the right dress and accessories for a night in town. I'd packed it all, taken it up, got changed then gone to put on the make-up..... and realised I'd forgotten my wig!

Total disaster. If I'd of forgotten earrings, tights, lipstick, shoes even...well I could have coped. I would have been peeved... but I would have coped. 

But having no wig was devastating and I ended up changing back again, packing everything up and having a semi-miserable night in a semi-miserable sulk. As all cross-dressers know, it's when the wig goes on that the show really starts.  But why is this? And how has hair become such a potent visual signal? Desmond Morris takes a closer look at the subject of women and their hair in chapter two of 'The Naked Woman', specifically from the point of view of a zoologist.

If women let their hair grow as nature intended it would either be down to their knees or frame their face with a huge woolly bush which, Morris suggests, would have provided a remarkable sight when our prehistoric ancestors were on the move. [edit: Since I published this the 'Dangerous Minds' website has published an article of Victorian women who never cut their hair.  Imagine this lot naked and trekking across the plains of the Serengeti!  Long Victorian hair ] Primates do have a variety of ways of using their hair with a range of colours, tufts and crests  but the human females ability to grow an almost cape-like fringe over their body seems at first more of an encumbrance than a help. Odd enough in itself but even odder is the fact that the human female is pretty much hairless every where else (apart from armpits and groin), which is another sign of neotany or the tendency to retain juvenile features. According to Morris the stunted form of female body hair is about the same as on a 26 week old chimpanzee foetus! So why should we have this long top hair on our head and downy foetal body hair almost everywhere else?

Well, the best guess seems to be that it acts as a 'species flag', with hair providing a strong visual image. This allowed our ancestors to identify their own kind from a distance and then, when closer, the hairy-faced males could also be distinguishable from smooth females. The different types of hair (allied to skin colour) then developed to allow quick identification of different habitat-specific types. Morris suggests that the spread of humanity out of Africa into different habitats triggered evolutionary adaptations but that these adaptations only started in a few specific areas - hair, numbers of sweat glands, skin pigmentation - before the consequences of our intelligence made them irrelevant. Now, as we are pretty much removed from the effects of specific environments and move about and mingle throughout the world these differences will eventually disappear.

Good, strong roots are essential for women's hair

But on to the specifics of female hair...as Morris notes, it has been everything from a woman's crowning glory to the subject of strict religious taboos, in fact  "...no other part of the female body has been subjected to such an incredible range of cultural variation." . Of course it comes in a range of shades and Morris gives the rough estimate of hairs on a human head as being 100,000. Blonde hair is finer so they pack more in at an average of 140,000. Brunettes have 108,000 and Redheads 90,000. It grows at about 13cm a year (18cm for young adults) and usually grows to just over a meter in length before finally dropping out - far longer than in any other primate, partly because we don't have a seasonal moult and just keep on growing. Morris then goes into the cultural variation in hair - how it's treated, worn or concealed, sometimes through style but more often through the requirements to work. One effect that he notes is due to the physical attraction that males find in female hair, how it both looks and feels and this dangerous expression on feminine sexuality quite often has to be tamed and removed from the male gaze. Religions often prescribe female hair, either under headscarves, veils, nun's wimples or the hats that women were required to wear in church where their menfolk had to take theirs off! In general, he notes, women with shaved heads have never really appealed to the majority of men, as witnessed by the shaving off of hair of French women who slept with the occupying forces in the Second World War.

One other thing that Morris points out is the fact that the vast majority of hair dyes purchased  tend to look at lightening the hair, emulating the blonde look and creating a situation where there are more artificial blondes in the world than there are real ones. Why is this? 

One fact comes down to the fineness of the hair itself. Blond hair is softer, smoother and more sensual than other coarser hairs, especially on the body, armpits and pubic area so it could be that this is an attractive trait that dying seeks to emulate. Of course it doesn't actually make the hair finer, but the association in the eye of the male is there...

Secondly, and we are back to the neotany thing again, being blond is a far more juvenile characteristic than having dark hair and it sends out unconscious 'take care of me signals' to interested males! Most children have lighter hair than their adults so the blonde female is again tapping into this rich vein of empathy with her 'baby blonde locks'.

Well, it's OK if you really like the look I suppose...

Morris points out that the numbers of women bleaching their hair has led to a strange distinction between natural and dyed blondes. Over the centuries natural blondes have been seen as almost angelic, child-like innocents whilst dyed blondes (obviously with sex on their minds) have been seen as harlots. Roman prostitutes had to wear blonde wigs as the uniform of their profession and 'bottle blondes' had a reputation for good times and fast living in Hollywood.

So that's it with hair. Everyone it seems  wants blonde hair because it's softer, finer, sexually tactile and you only get light fuzz on your body as well as making you look more child-like. Could be why gentlemen prefer blondes I supppose... 

Personally the next time I'm thinking about a new wig I think I'd love a redhead style but then that's probably just as well, all things considered.

Acting the Part - Exploring Gender on a Hot Summers Day

 "A fun workshop in a safe space and setting for first time gender experimenters and the curious to lose their inhibitions and explore first hand playing around with gender. Basically lots of cross dressing, make up and wigs combined with theatre games, and a few drinks thrown in!"

Light, bright and a lovely place to work
- The Soho Collective

Saturday 22nd of August and we suddenly have one hot summer's day amongst the banks of rain clouds rolling up from the south. Normally a chance to get out and revel in the sun, but not today. In fact for me the heat was about the worst weather option that could have happened, considering what I had in store. I'm not at all comfortable when the temperature rises so summer for me is generally considered the cross-dressing 'off season' (not 'closed season' please note - never that...). But there I was on the tube to Soho with the full kit-and-caboodle in a bag (and some!) looking forward to a trip to the Soho Collective on Moor Street. I was also running a bit late which only added to my general discomfort so all in all I wasn't ideally prepared when I finally nipped in through the front door...

I'd first seen mention of the Gender Workshop on the TVChix website but it was soon apparent that it was also advertised in a few other places as well and a couple of things about it appealed (apart from the obvious keywords like 'crossdressing',  'make up', 'wigs' and 'drinks' of course)  For one thing it wasn't just a M2F event. It was an open invitation to anyone who wanted to explore and play around with gender, which was a bit refreshing really. I thought it would be interesting to mix with others approaching it from a different angle than my own, to hopefully have a few cis gender females for example, and maybe to do something a bit different. Secondly I saw that Cindy of the 'boyswillbegirls' dressing service was one of the facilitators and would be doing the make up and as everyone said how lovely she was (and as I'm pretty rubbish with make up) that was a definite plus too. And thirdly... well it was just a great opportunity to get dressed, have some fun and maybe see if anything unexpected or unanticipated came out of the day!

Like this, only on a rotund middle aged man... Easy!

So after a bit of thought I'd signed up and paid up and been welcomed onto the course. As the big day loomed, amongst other things we had been encouraged to think of a character or archetype that we'd like to explore, of any gender. Partly out of convenience (so I wouldn't have to buy anything) I'd gone with a 30s femme fatale, impossibly-chic Vogue model-type of looks that I've always found so fascinating. I think it's the accentuating of the curves and the elegant pose that attracted me to this particular style - certainly not the practicalities of replicating them on my frame on a hot summers day! But then that's half the fun and frustration of being a cross-dresser - setting yourself apparently unachievable targets but really having fun trying to get somewhere, anywhere, near the ballpark with them. Anyway, by the time it was apparent that the weather really required thin white cotton dresses like a Cadbury's Flake girl in a flower meadow, I was already packed and ready to go. It seems I was destined to be film noir on a sunny day!

So, on my slightly breathless and definitely warm arrival I made my way up the stairs to join the waiting group (yes I was a little late) and we then had a quick chance to chat whilst grabbing a glass of water. Without getting into too much detail on the other participants (and we agreed not to publish photos of each other either) it seems we were a smallish but quite diverse group. One  middle-aged TV on their own (me); another TV the same age as me with cis female partner; a third TV in their 30s, a non TV male open to trying something new and a cis female, also up for something new and intrigued at the possibility of exploring the masculine (I hope these rather broad descriptions are acceptable. I'm using the term TV as a short- hand really as I'm not sure how the individuals would prefer to be described and of course I'm happy to change it if you let me know).

So, with us all nervously trying to cool down, our workshop leader (ex-drag artiste, current yoga instructor and all-round nice guy) Alexander went through the introductions giving us a flavour of what was to come. Roughly speaking it would consist of periods of introductions, theatre exercises, transformations, character exploration, expedition, feedback & debrief. Quite a menu really. As it turned out Alexander was also having a party after the event that we were all invited to attend, so in effect meeting all his guests almost constituted a separate phase in itself! Alongside Alexander and Cindy was theatre director Clemence making up the third member of the team. It was Clemence with her professional acting background that took the lead in the various warm-ups and exercises that constituted the first section.

Independent cat is not impressed

Now I have to confess something here. I'm not generally the world's best at theatre style warm-ups, especially those tacked on to the start of training or team away-days. Nor even those sessions when you have to say which animal you most resemble and then listen to the umpteenth person tell you that cats are independent and give out love on their own terms! thank you very much. And then no-one thinks you're clever if you plump for a Puffin, basically because it's very friendly and enjoys a good fish supper. I mean those sort of 'warm ups' are bad enough but put in something physical and I'm straight on full evade/undermine mode, along with everyone other than the team exhibitionist of course, who really can't wait...

Well anyway it wasn't like that. Mainly I think because I'd decided to come, paid to be there and by jingo I was going to get my money's worth! So I threw myself into them with gusto, if not much experience. Actually some of the exercises were very interesting, like walking in a crowd and catching the eye of someone approaching - hold the gaze for five seconds as you pass - then break. That's quite hard as I didn't realise how little I look at others faces until I had to catch their eyes and maintain it - and then it went up to ten seconds and that was really hard! I wasn't sure how to hold a facial expression either for so long. What do you do? Smile? Be serious? Be aware that you're no oil painting? Be slightly awkward that you're unabashedly staring at a woman? All very tricky.

As these exercises progressed, individuals started going out to Cindy for the make-up phase and coming back looking... well, very different. After a few had been made up we sort of reached a critical mass and then it was the 'transformation phase' where we all went off to finish the make-up and to change into our characters. Many sensible and interesting outfits were tried and tested but only one was daft enough to go all theatrical and to require cleavage boosting, seamed nylons, hat-pins and various sets of pearls. Consequently I fear I took far, far longer than everyone else to get ready and was probably quite unpopular and no doubt labelled dammingly as the team exhibitionist, before I could finally sweep back to rejoin the group. So then we had some more exercises and discussions around either the character we inhabited or how we felt, depending on where people felt comfortable. I was very much a 'character' and happy to answer as though I'd just come off the set of a black and white movie but others felt they had to answer the questions truthfully and as themselves. This was very interesting and I'm not sure it was all that expected by the facilitators. We were all there for different reasons of course, but at that point it seemed to me that some were investing a great deal more than others to explore of the nuances of gender and that it might not necessarily be a pain-free experience either. This section of the day was possibly the least straightforward, possibly the least assured and yet possibly the most insightful. Not for everyone maybe but it seemed that it might be for those that were struggling with gender as opposed to those who were exploring it. And maybe that rough division amongst the participants was significant as well in determining how succesful the day had been for each of them, I'm not sure, that thought's a little deep for me really so I'll just back off and leave it there...

Anyway, next up was the TASK!

It was Titanic all over again...

And out task was to go out dressed onto the streets of Soho to buy some ice and wine for the upcoming post-workshop party. Not too bad and everyone seemed up for it (there was an opt out for this one) so off we went as a mad gaggle of drag and drabbies, past the cafes and bars down to the shop on the corner of Frith Street. We were certainly gaining attention and no doubt a few comments, but I tend to be in a bit of a 'can't hear, won't hear' mode when I'm out so I just carried on, as did everyone else. As it turned out they had no ice in store so on I went with one of our 'male' participants (I'll call him Julian, as that's what he called himself) to a wine shop called Gerry's on Old Compton Street. For some reason the assistant looked a bit nonplussed when we went in, which suprised me for a Soho shop really, but a bottle of white Rioja was puchased, along with two bags of ice, and Julian dutifully shouldered the burden of the ice for the stroll back. I of course, held on to the wine...

Having all succesfully returned to base it was time for a debrief, and interestingly Julian said how protective he had felt walking along with us.Whether he was reacting in  protective male manner or a supportive female manner I'm not sure, but it was an interesting reaction I thought. I can't say I felt particularly protective toward anyone else, but then I'm probably oblivious and only looking out for number one ;-)  Did Julian feel threatened himself in any way I wonder? Probably not as I suspect he was too busy looking after us to worry about himself.

View From The Top

After the debrief the workshop came to a close. Some got changed and left but most of us stayed around for the party and chatted at length to the facilitators and other participants. As a bonus we all ended up on the roof with its great views down on Soho and many photos were taken, even if some of us were looking distinctly frowsy by that stage of the evening. I think it only fair to report that I was indeed the last trans standing before taking off the make-up and disappearing into the evening.

The journey home was interesting as I ended up chatting to a hen-party of policewomen on the tube, complimenting someone on their dress and then stopping off for some chips and a gherkin. It was only on my return home that my wife commented on the fact that I''d merely smudged my eye make-up and in fact looked like a debauched middle-aged Alice Cooper. Which is not bad really as he looks like a debauched old Alice Cooper these days and still gets away with it. 

So if I scared you on the tube last Saturday I apologise, but when you've had a fun evening exploring gender it does actually seems quite an apt way to end the day...

Desmond Morris' "The Naked Woman"

Everyones Favourite Subject  

Desmond Morris will probably be most familiar to many of us for his 1969 book The Naked Ape which took a look at humans through the eyes of a zoologist. This was a bit of a publishing sensation when it came out and was pretty much a world-wide best-seller.Morris wrote several books after this but in 2004 he became a little more specialised and focused his attention just on the female of the species in his follow-up book The Naked Woman - A Study Of The Female Body. I'll look at his reasons for picking such a subject a little later on but on reading it last year I found the whole book fascinating and full of small insights into the various ways and methods that the female body has evolved into what Morris describes as "a unique being of an extraordinary kind."

Although I read it as I would any other popular science book, I couldn't help but start to relate the information Morris was providing to my own experiences as a cross-dresser, especially in his observations around the way women present themselves to others. I also started to wonder whether it might be quite useful to identify some of those key elements for further consideration, especially when looking to present in a 'feminine' manner. I never actually got round to doing so when actually reading the book, but the self-indulgence of a blog means I can carry through on the idea and basically extract some insights and information from the text and, who knows, it might actually prove of some help or interest to others as well as myself. One thing it isn't though is a sort of make-up tutorial in disguise, rather it's an exploration as to the reasons certain features are prized - full, red lips, wide eyes, that sort of thing. It might throw some light on what we're trying to achieve and why it works. Possibly...

The book has 22 chapters, each devoted to a single aspect of the female anatomy and my plan is to pick through and highlight any quotes, phrases or ideas that I think might throw some light on the key differences between the sexes and how these might be incorporated into my own attempts at feminisation - and if they can't to at least understand why!

So to get the ball rolling, I'm kicking off with those two sections that are least specific but which help to set the tone and the framework of Morris' more pertinant observations

INTRODUCTION - 
One key concept from Morris straight away  "The human female has undergone dramatic changes during...evolution - far more than the male" and that evolution means that the human female is far more removed from other primate females than human males are from primate males. Hence her uniqueness.Morris then talks of societies constant desire to 'improve' upon nature and his own anger that relatively recent developments in civilisation (i.e. urbanisation) has led to patriarchal societies where previously it was more equitable. He concludes by saying he will be looking at the biological aspects of each part of a woman's body before going on to look at the various modifications that societies have made to it over the centuries. 

OK, nothing too groundbreaking other than making a case for the 'beauty' of the evolved female form. I can't disagree with that...

1. EVOLUTION -
In the opening chapter Morris puts a great deal of our success as a species down to our ability to adapt to stress and to breed in far larger groups (cities as a prime example) than our primate cousins could tolerate. But in order to do so required some major adaptations. Our features of friendliness and curiosity play major roles in allowing us to develop this adaptation but these features are mainly found in the juveniles of other species. In order to succeed it therefore become important for us to retain many juvenile features into adulthood, a process known as neotany.

It seems that neotany is ultimately responsible for many human characteristics, but the two sexes developed them in different ways. In a nutshell "Men are slightly more childlike in their behaviour, women in their anatomy."  and to illustrate the point I'll simplify an extended example Morris provides, namely..

The female body, being so important for reproduction, had to be better protected...as a result the curvaceous female body contains 25% fat....the stringy male only 12.5%. This greater retention of puppy fat in the female was a strongly infantile characteristic, and with it went a whole host of other juvenile features that served her well.

Morris contends that the human child needs both parents to ensure it's survival and that human males are adapted to be strongly protective of their children. It made sense then for the human female to exploit this by retaining as many of the child's juvenile features as possible to elicit the same response from her mate.

The female voice is higher, like a child's, women keep the child's hair pattern and smooth baby-faces and many other physical child-like features whilst at the same time developing away from the childish mental state. Males on the other hand had fewer physical child-like features (although far more than other primates) but retained far more of the juvenile mental attributes of curiosity, risk-taking etc. 

So it seems women are cunningly designed to elicit a similar response from males as we provide to lovely little babies and cute children. Sadly this might explain some of the root of the darker side of human behaviour such as paedophilia and other sex abuse, where the edges become blurred for some and they then flip the sexual attraction back on the juveniles rather than the female. I wonder if there's any documented examples of sexual abuse amongst other primate groups where neotany isn't prevalent?*

Anyway the stage is now set for head-to-toe detailed look at the physical female form starting with the woman's crowning glory, her hair!

Coming next time... wild hair!

* A quick search turned up a paper entitled "Nature Disrupted: Evolution, Kinship and Child Sexual Abuse" by Mark Erikson published in Clinical Neuropsychiatry (2006) which states 'The equivalent of child sexual abuse, so common in our species, seems to be virtually non-existent in other primates'  and then gives footnote references in support. Nature Disrupted link

Dangerous Minds - A mini-archive of cross-dressing history

Vintage glam from 60s Kansas

One of the few websites that I regularly visit is the estimable Dangerous Minds, a treasure trove of music, film and other cultural ephemera. What has always impressed me is their regular feature of transgender related articles so I thought it might be worth listing some of those I've enjoyed on the off-chance that you're lacking a little something to peruse of an evening

So for a by no-means comprehensive listing, feast your eyes on these...

Portraits of 90s Drag Queens by Michael James O'Brien
                                                                        Found photos from the 60s Kansas drag scene
Vintage Drag photos from the 19th century
                                                                                             Vintage photos of Drag Kings
The transgender women of Boogie Street 
                                                                                                        Transgender kids camp
Nan Golding's photography
                                              The Drag Queen Stroll - NYCs Meatpacking District in the 80s
Ageing 'Frisco Drag Queens
                                                                                                           The NYC Drag Explosion  
Ricky Renee - 1960s Quick change artiste
                                                                                    Men wearing their girlfriend's clothes
Grayson Perry - Rebel in a dress
                                                                                                                     Popstars in drag
An interview with Jayne County 
                                                                                                    The Queen - documentary
Transgender women of Paris in the 50s and 60s 

The Pink-(ish) Panthers

I have to confess that I'm not one of those who usually follow the exploits of international jewel thieves but I was intrigued to come across a reference to a gang known as the 'Pink Panthers' when reading an Evening Standard article on the recent Hatton Garden robbery.  Some of the perpetrators have apparently just been sentenced but what caught my cross-dressing eye was their modus operandi

In one [Paris] robbery, which lasted less than 20 minutes, the gunmen disguised themselves as women, sporting wigs, skirts, stockings and high heels.

 That's all fairly innocuous I suppose, but when I thought about it, I got to wondering whether the article really need to say more than 'the gunmen disguised themselves as women'? The items of clothing mentioned was interesting as well, particularly the stockings an high heels. Which then led me onto the idle speculation that it must be quite tricky to conduct a high speed smash and grab in high heels, especially if you're not used to wearing them ("Are you crazy? You really expect me to walk over a security grating in stilettos???"). So having had the idle thought I wondered if there were any photos about on the net to show these glamour pusses in action and maybe a fuller description of exactly how they were dressed at the time.

Well as it turned out I couldn't find any so I had a little look around to see how the robbery was reported generally.

Most took the standard line, presumably repeating each others report, although the Daily Mail said 'the gunmen wore silky wigs', although how they determined this isn't noted. On the online news site Bustle, they reported it pretty much on a factual basis. although their headline focused on 'Cross-dressing Robbers' and was apparently written by their Fashion & Beauty reporter! The Daily Mirror reported their trial under the headline "Criminal Gang wore 'Fishnet stockings and heels as they stole £75m of jewels in heist of the century."  

So now they're wearing fishnets, the cheeky harlots! Well it is Paris and they were probably not going to get much of an opportunity to get out a great deal so why not? Actually, to be fair to the Mirror, they probably picked this up from a quote as noted on the BBC website



A lawyer for one of the defendants, Eric Dupond-Moretti, told Agence France-Presse: "It's an exceptional case with unusual aspects. In television series about heists, they wear bulletproof vests. Here it's fishnet stockings and high heels."  BBC Website 28.2.15

In many of the reports it seems as though it's the fact that the robbers were in female clothing that was  the interesting part. They'd robbed the same store a year previously dressed as decorators but for some reason this was rarely mentioned - and certainly no thought as to whether there were any silky wigs involved in the earlier event.

Although you can't be sure, I suspect the truth is a little less titillating than the reports hint at. Why dress as women at all? The NY Times has a reasonable explanation

"Such painstaking surveillance may well have led to the decision to wear wigs at Harry Winston: women, even fake ones, glimpsed through a security camera might appear less threatening to weary workers."
The Heist at Harry’s Doreen Carvajal December 12, 2008 The NY Times

So would they really need the full-on tranny experience for a 20 minute, action packed event with subsequent getaway (which some reports suggested was by motorbike, although others mentioned the slightly more demure getaway car)? A French news channel had a video reconstruction of the process of the robbery in which the beige burglars seem to sport wigs and even heels but where the fishnet stockings (not tights) and the skirts are replaced by the far more practical trouser/cardigan ensemble. Still chic and elegant but surely far more practical for the job in hand?

What the best dressed burglars are wearing in Paris this year

 

Beards, Bums and Ads

Maurice and his expertly applied 'crap' makeup!

There's been one of those little things bugging me for a while now. Not bugging me in a bad way, just a sort of niggly, occasional irritant when it pops up on the box (which it seems to do quite a lot at the moment) namely "What is it with cross dressing stubble in TV Adverts?"

It's one of those strange things that when you're engaged in a hobby or a pastime like cross dressing you become much more aware of it in the general course of daily lifeand it seems to me that you can't spend very long before you're very aware that the media is awash with the subject, whether it be documentaries, drama, music, art.... or advertising. Such a fascination for the subject must be indicative of something I suppose, but that strikes me as being a far bigger topic than my little 'shower thought' which is basically about the very manly issue of stubble!

Stubble has an interesting place in men's lives. It has both negative and positive connotations of course; negative when associated with sloth, idleness and decay (the man can't or is unwilling to take pride in his personal appearance), positive when of the 'designer' variety (the 'action man' whose life seems too full and who is too independent to follow the norms. But at the same time keeping his stubble in check and tidy, like some sort of urban wildflower gardner). 

But recently a subset of the 'negative' stubble seems to have been popping up quite a lot in television ads featuring cross dressing and it also seems to be a sub-set of that modern trope 'the stupid man'. In these adverts the cross dresser is usually overweight, usually on the dim-side of the spectrum and pretty much always resplendent with a degree of facial hair. Their choice of clothing usually left a bit to desire as well. The number of these characters popping up in adverts would suggest that they are quite an effective tool in the advertisers armoury so I thought I might try to pull a few of them together for a quick overview

 A good example of the genre would be Barbara & Maureen, the 'Bounty' kitchen paper ladies. 
They had a whole series of ads a few years back which seemed to focus on the competition between the two 'ladies' as they compared the relative cleaning properties of their paper kitchen towels. I can only think that the thought process amongst the ad executives went something along the lines of ... 

Nice outfits too!

"In the ad time available a straight competition between our towel and theirs is the most effective way of putting the message across."  - "But women aren't stupid - having two women compare kitchen towels is daft and unrealistic."  - "Hmmm... usually if we need something daft and unrealistic we'd have men do it. But for kitchen towels??" -  "True, having men give a toss about kitchen towel absorbency is unrealistic as well." - "Hang on, Blue Sky Thought time... what if we have two men do it dressed as women?" -  "Like it. Sort of idiot types who would obviously never normally use the stuff. Post Modern Irony Time? We can laugh at them whilst still absorbing the core message (see what I did there?)" - "Yes, but we have to be careful. We don't want regular guys in dresses. That might be a bit too creepy. They mustn't look as though they're enjoying dressing either. Crap dress-sense - I'm thinking 70s grannies with those floral pinnies and furry boots with zips they used to wear - No glamour either. To be on the safe side make them a bit plump. And for God's sake make sure there's plenty of stubble about. These guys definitely ain't gay, they're just slobs who've blundered into the wrong wardrobe and who were too stupid to realise it." -  "Duncan I salute you. Another winner! Time for a celebratory chablis methinks"

Pound to a penny that wasn't too far from the truth. Of course the added bonus is that it then becomes an inherently comic advert (men in dresses, what a hoot!) with the potential for a whole series of them as these guys/gals get into ever more implausible scrapes. All the time side-stepping why these (obvious) guys might be in pinnies in the first place!

The apparent success of this series seemed to set off what was almost an avalanche of badly dressed and hairy trannies all inhabiting this wonderful world of harmless cross dressing where facial hair immediately signifies a safe, non-sexual protagonist. Still rather dim and still rather self deluded. Hairiest of them all (and not just by a whisker either)  is 'Maurice' the BetVictor 'babe' who's found yet another way of buttonholing his betting mentor, this time as an implausible WAG at a football match. In fact WAGS come up again as an aspirational , presumably because their iconic 'ultra-femme' status. Here the joke basically comes down to the theme of "...quick, give me a tip before they clock I'm not a WAG!". Again, despite the beautifully applied make-up it's the hair that stops this being a sexually threatening scenario, although to be honest Maurice does come across as a very threatening and disturbed individual and if I was Victor I'd have security there at the double.

A more passive and aspirational WAG is to be found in an advert for Piri Piri Pot Noodles where Brian luxuriates in a fantasy world of lace, perfumes and personal pampering. Whereas Maurice is using his cross-dressing primarily to access Victor, Brian really does buy into the role. He's developed a soft voice, feminine  mannerisms and a coterie of genetic females who seem to accept him readily as one of their own. However you can't go too far with this sort of thing so he's been reined in with with a few comforting signifiers - his name (surely she'd be happier as Bryony?), his size (pleasingly plump but definitely not WAGishly thin) and his stubble (it's OK guys, she's not a 'trap', she's a comic creation!). Brian is unique in this group though for being an unashamedly 'romantic' fantasy figure, albeit one that probably only exists in Brian's own head. In contrast the Just Eat takeaway chefs are just down and dirty!

Doh! Doh and triple Doh!!

We've all got better things to do with our lives than actually cook food haven't we? Apart from revelling in the unique culinary charms of a Peri Peri Pot Noodle, the Just Eat chefs are on  mission to get us to do more interesting things like waking up next to a stunning blonde following a 'memorable' night on the town and a night of energetic jiggy-jiggy! Only that's no blonde, tht's one of my fellow workers in a wig and nightie. Now who feels slightly awkward...?

That's actually the second crossdressing escapade the chefs were involved in - one of their other adverts was far more upfront suggesting that a take away was the ideal solution when you are planning a weekend of crossdressing. The image of the chefs bumping, grinding and rubbing their stockinged thighs whilst declaring  "...we all know there's more interesting things to do with a weekend, don't we gents?" is a sight to behold and I can't think it did a great deal to persuade any women out there to rush for the pizza delivery number. Which might explain why I couldn't find a copy of it on Youtube either. Despite the beards and 'tashes maybe they stepped just a step too far over the line with that one...

Well this confuses things!

Some last inconsequential musings from me then. 

Firstly I wonder if Conchita Wurst winning the Eurovision song contest last year has affected these sort of ads much? There was a huge outcry from some when a bearded crossdresser won and part of me wonders whether it was the beard that offended. How could an obvious man look so good in a dress. Surely the beard had to go? Does not compute, does not compute!!!   So what with drag queens appropriting the beard maybe we're not so safe as we thought? Just having a cross-dresser sport a beard in the next big TV ad might not be enough to ensure that we all know it's just a gag and not something more sinister and unsettling.

Dave - getting the balance spot on in so many ways

Which then led me to wonder whether the 'phenomenal' recent MoneySupermarket advert was mindful of this when it was in it's planning stages? The cross-dressing here is reduced in scope to tight shorts, high heels and shaved legs. The female anatomy is caracatured as in drag, but here it's the bum rather than the boobs that get the padding. Our hero Dave is steely eyed, determined, clean-shaven and every inch the man from the waist up though. No slobbery an definitely no stubble - designer or otherwise - and any 'drag' element seemed to be unloaded onto the person of Sharon Osbourne who looks on admiringly. Our man can pout, preen, thrust out his groin and shake his bum like a hopeful pole-dancer, has already made numerous appearances on talk-shows and has a string of imitators all of which is something none of the others have ever achieved. 

Safe advertising cross-dressing seems to arrived and I wonder if Dave's padded orbs are the shape of the future?

"Each of the men dress in high heels and the video maker noted that some of them were walking 'too well'

  - Oh dear, maybe it's not all that safe out there after all!

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-3022952/Friends-stag-wear-denim-hotpants-high-heels-recreate-twerking-Money-Supermarket-ad.html#ixzz3bQZbt9lY

Addendum:
I came across this lovely little ad the other day for Sloggi bras, a bra so comfortable you'd almost insist your man tries it on for size - but only if he's sufficiently inked, hipster and bearded enough of course!

I'm not so sure...it looks as though he's going to stretch it and then she wont look so smug...

(Outing 3): And to round it all off...

...was the trip to a restaurant.

Tina and Julie seem to be regulars at a Soho eatery called Balans. There are two on Old Compton Street, one a cafe style the other a 'proper' restaurant and that was the one where we were heading.

The second time out on the street seemed slightly less intimidating although a little voice in my head was still hoping it wasn't too far as we were actually on the pavement and consciously avoiding people's gazes was getting a bit tiring. It wasn't as it turned out and in we went. Balans seemed fairly busy, lots of couples at tables around the entrance and again another slightly self-conscious moment as we stood there waiting to be seated. Would my knobbly knees protruding from underneath a shortish skirt put the discerning diner off their starters? I felt a slight urge to shuffle in a nervous sort of fashion but luckily the staff were pretty quick to spot us and we were led through the admiring diners (cough! cough!) to a table for four in the rear dining area. With the extra space available Tina suggested that it might be interesting to both sit with our backs to the wall so we could see what's going on in the restaurant and on the street outside, which seemed a good idea but thinking back on it must have looked a bit odd... certainly not the usual set up. Blending in again.

Of course that's when I realised I was in a spot of bother as the old contact lenses I was wearing meant I was suddenly very long-sighted and had no chance of reading the menu (or the prices). In a slightly embarrassing display of public helplessness I had to ask Tina to tell me what was on the menu and as I had no chance of remembering what she was telling me I plumped for the first item on the menu - also on the assumption that it was one of the cheaper options as well, if I'm being honest. However any notion of thrift was blown out of the water as we went for a large glass of the house red each so maybe I shouldn't have bothered.

Did I detect a slight hint of disdain on the waiter's face when taking the order? I'm not sure really - it might well have been his natural expression and certainly none of the other diners seemed to be remotely phased by us (well me really. I took it as read that Tina would be totally at home whereas I assumed that I just looked like an obvious newbie). In fact looking around everyone seemed far too preoccupied with their own friends to be noticing me, something I mentioned to Tina and which strangely slightly deflated me. After all you expect you're going to bring the walls down about your head by going out wearing a dress and what happens.... Totally ignored ;-)

Food eaten, wine drunk off we went back to Lolas at Muse for the rest of the evenings entertainment - which was a very good drag act - and then back upstairs where we messed around with a few photos, including the detail bellow.

So, what had I learned on my first proper excursion out in a skirt. Pretty basic stuff really

a. It's quite a nervy thing to do but it's not terrifying
b. I find that I have conversations with people far quicker than when I'm in drab. Women seem quite friendly too, probably because I'm not perceived as being a 'threat' in any way
c. It's actually quite nice wearing a skirt - at least like the one I was wearing. Breezy.
d. No-one seemed inclined to beat the bejabbers out of me, which was nice...
e. I did miss having pockets when dressed. I'm cack-handed and handbags throw me. 
f. Good shoes that fit and that preferably stay on your feet are essential
g. errrr..... I think that's about it really. Other than that it's quite exciting and I'd like to do it again...

Mission accomplished. Take a bow!