Thursday, 18 June 2009

Saturday Night Fever

Well, to show the world that I'm back in the land of the living, and not doing a Queen Victoria (i.e. stay in deep mourning for eighty two years), I'm going to Transister in Brighton this Saturday. I've been there before, of course, so I know what's what, if not exactly who's who. If you want to spot me and say hello, I'll be in a white number with black splodges on it (as if someone has chucked some paint over me), black leggings, black shoes, black bag, and probably an orange scarf. Otherwise as I look on Flickr or in a recent posting, because I don't go anywhere in heavy disguise.

Transister is a friendly, cheerful and very welcoming venue for a classy pay-on-the-door night out all dressed up. So far as I can see, transvestites outnumber transsexuals five to one, and I think that you can distinguish a transvestite because of the outstanding care and attention given to dress, hair and makeup. Perhaps because it's a part-time thing, transvestites really go to the limit when they get a chance of a glam night out. Physically there's no telling. Amazing things can be done with padding and sticky tape, and presumably corsets, although there's nothing you can do about bad legs except cover them up. There are always a large number of real girls, meaning natal females, and I suppose many come with their transvestite partners. Male-to-female transssexuals may have 'girl friends' but mostly not girlfriends in the normal sense, and (sadly) almost certainly not a female life partner. Some real girls come without males in tow, and just join in the fun. That's how Transister is, easy and relaxing and non-threatening, a world away from any cattle-market. Mind you, meeting up and making new friends is meant to be part of the night's business, although if you want to chat quietly you do need to go outside with the smokers. That means the sea breeze as well, so some kind of shawl or wrap is a good idea.

Brighton being the place it is, there is no problem about walking between where you parked your car and the entrance, and then back again at 3am. Nobody attacks you or even notices you, or if they do it's all very good-natured. At any time of the day it's a normal thing to see unusually-attired individuals in the city centre or on the seafront, generally street musicians and suchlike rather than goths and drag queens, but it's the sort of place that can cater for any style. That's why you're safe to express yourself. It's a great place to go people-watching, and to study for example what the foreign students are wearing, if you want to emulate that look. I very much like just walking around, especially when it's sunny, blending in, another tourist out for the day (and they come in droves, all year round).

Brighton is even better if you have company. And in this respect I'm a bit stuck. It's all very well being self-sufficient and happy to do things on my own, but many things are best shared. Last night I had a moment, a pang, of wanting a drink and a chat with a friend. But their landline was engaged, and when I tried a little later they didn't answer and had perhaps gone out. Not wanting to intrude on their evening, I didn't phone them on their mobile. I have these self-imposed rules, and I'm desperately anxious not to 'use' people to alleviate personal unhappiness, distress or boredom. The sad thing was that there was nobody else I felt I could contact. This has to be a warning light flashing. I am now very, very isolated and must for my own social wellbeing find myself a wider circle of friends. The internet is an obvious source, and I'm moved by the supportive comments to my blog posts and the occasional personal email. For those who have sent me such responses, many thanks indeed! And do I mean it. But we are all scattered, and it seems that we will never actually meet and form proper friendships. I hope I'm wrong about that.

There are also websites that specialise in bringing people together (tvChix, for example), and possibly this offers more chances of contact, although most site members appear to think that a photo of themselves in stockings and suspenders, with a frank rundown on their sexual status, is going to find them the right people to share their time with. I find this mildly distressing, partly because sex is a difficult subject with me just now, and partly because I want to meet three-dimensional, interesting, articulate trannies with some culture. I don't want to see only bums and tits.

Lumberjacking's no life for a girly. Perhaps I should put on women's clothing, and hang around in bars.


  1. Ah yes, TV v TS... But thats not really doing the issue justice, is it?

    As you say its the "saucy" v "straight" that sometimes confuses. The profiles, the pictures - well, whatever floats your boat, sweetie, it doesn't float mine... Lest at this stage I be accused of hypocrisy, yes, I do frequent the occasional fetish club, no I don't make a huge song and dance and profile out of it.

    Sometimes more separates "us" than unites.

  2. I found the TvChix site when looking for kindred spirits in this lonely neck of the woods... or rather mountains. What came up was not quite my cup of tea. :)

    I did find a TS/TV group here, but totally by chance. I read a report in the local paper about the increase in gay hate crimes in Wales, and there in an inset story was a woman from a group based on the North Wales coast.

    They are a long way off, and sadly meet on one of the weekdays when my wife is working. Sod's law. Other than the group, there's nothing and nobody for a hundred miles or more.

    We hope to be down on the south coast in July sometime. As we'll be staying at my mother's, I'll be in "male" attire. But it would be nice to met at a cafe. I'll ring or email you nearer the time, Lucy.

    You're so lucky that Brighton is so bohemian and liberal that one can just go pretty much anywhere!!

    Have a nice time ar the club, Lucy.


  3. Is there really a TV versus TS thing going on anywhere, Jess? I thought the two seemed pretty hard to tell apart on looks, except possibly, as I mentioned, that TVs if anything looked more ravishing. Might be because being a TV doesn't rule out having a well-paid job, whereas many TSs have little money and can't afford the clothes. Philosophically both share a need to dress up, and perhaps TVdom shades off into TSdom quite often. I think everyone who feels more comfortable in female guise, whatever the clothing style, shares a common bond.

    I'm pleased to hear that you don't get turned on by the bog-standard sex posing that goes on! (I'm probably now going to be labelled as a prude)

  4. Gosh, yes, Chrissie, I am really lucky to have Brighton just a short drive away. Don't I know it! I take it that even in Cardiff there is nothing much for trannies. You must feel especially exposed amid a sea of super-masculine hyper-chromosomed rugby types who pose around in a I-drink-seventeen-pints-every-day-and-I'm-well-hard manner. I saw plenty of them earlier this year in Newport, when visiting my aunt.

    Incidentally, I'm not anti-Welsh. I am Welsh myself - born in Cardiff, and Mum was herself Welsh, although on her side of the family they ultimately hail from Sweden.

    Definitely give me a ring or a message when you're down in July. I won't mind the male garb! Lucy

  5. Hi Lucy
    I am so pleased you are getting on with your life. It is so important that we have friends, from all walks of life. There are times when we really value those friends who are on a similar path. One day my friend I hope our paths will cross.
    Take care

  6. Lucy said: "Incidentally, I'm not anti-Welsh. I am Welsh myself - born in Cardiff, and Mum was herself Welsh, although on her side of the family they ultimately hail from Sweden."

    I'm actually from London. My wife is from these parts. We moved here in Dec 2002. I'd go back down south tomorrow if I could. :(

    "You must feel especially exposed amid a sea of super-masculine hyper-chromosomed rugby types who pose around in a I-drink-seventeen-pints-every-day-and-I'm-well-hard manner."

    Yes.... you never said a truer word, cariad.



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