Just Beginning
& Far Away
OK, just kidding about two of
those. When these pictures were taken I
had just started dressing. I mean REALLY
dressing.
Before this I had only partially dressed for a fetish thrill
and nothing more. Oh, I had many a fleeting urge to travel to Lee Brewster’s
Mardi Gras Boutique, pick up a maids costume and a black satin corset in the
80’s. It was not until 1988 that everything changed. Circumstances had
left me alone, unbridled by a partner and in possession of a settlement that
bankrolled my new professional hobby . . . dressing like a woman. I was in-between London
England, Frankfurt and Munich Germany,
(plus and a cold war country that was still under Communist control). Trips for gathering information allowed me an
opportunity to buy loads of English and German ladies clothing. In this era women, especially European women
dressed fashionably with dresses, full skirts, petticoats and silky stockings. Stockings
held up by real corsets. Happenstance
provided a magazine in a sex shop that was called “TV-Repartee”. In it were adverts
for all types of Tranny gear that would prove most valuable for the newly
minted cross dresser.
Open the cover and there was the most wonderful account of a
visit to Axfords Corset shop. I had seen
Heaven and it was waiting for me at 306 Vauxhall Bridge
road a few meters from Victoria Station Tube.
As it so happens I needed to visit a relative close to London.
These visits to London introduced me the wonderful world of Axfords Corsets, Michael Hammond, and a wonderful lass named Yvonne Sinclair. Yvonne was instrumental in organizing TV/TS groups in London and she was the reason I had my first venture out in public dressed as a woman. She had moved from ‘French Place’ a Tranny social meeting venue and started working at Victoria Stations, Axfords Corsets. Her partner was a beautiful TS named ‘Blood’. On my second visit to the store and spending lots of Quid, Yvonne had the idea that I should stay at the infamous Philbeach hotel. There I could dress and be in company of both Gay and straight Tranny’s. She was to be my sponsor so to speak.
Forgoing my usual B&B I
arranged accommodations for 2-3 nights at the Philbeach. Yvonne was bringing
Blood and we were to have dinner in the restaurant and then party in the club
below. At 5 pm this timid and quite
nervous Kathy Masters person made her way down a flight of stairs dressed in a
black pant suit and a very feminine flowing white chiffon blouse. My sponsor had invited other friends to join
us for drinks or dinner. I sat down
amongst 10 or so couples in the dinning room waiting for a group of beautifully
dressed men to arrive with Yvonne . . . I was the ONLY male dressed as a
Lass. In walked Blood resplendent in a
flowing dress, with the male Yvonne in sweater and pants. So it was to be, a Yank from who knows where,
all dressed in woman’s clothes surrounded by ‘normal’ people?
Dinner was wonderful and filling
because I was wearing one of Axfords finest black satin corsets. Hardly any room for more then 6 or 7 pints of
London’s finest
ales. As the evening progressed we made
our way down to the pub below. Not
before I had the idea to really impress the lads with my nice toned gams in
seamed stockings and my favorite black leather skirt. Descending a long flight of stairs in a tight
leather skirt, 4 inch heels and little to be concerned was a thrill I would not
soon forget.
