Colours of spring

 It's been six months since I had a perfect set of nails. I really wrecked my right index finger last autumn. And I mean wrecked: I've never had such damage so as to bleed and have to bandage it for several weeks. And my right thumb keeps breaking and getting caught on things. I'm not sure what this spate of bad luck is all about. Anyway, last week I bought lots of new nail varnishes in colours I've never tried before, so I'm starting to give them a go and see how I feel about them.

First up: lilac. Or Rimmels' "Lovey Dovey".

 

Quite pretty, and it would go well with some items I've got, like this tunic top. 

 

I'll try out the other colours one by one.

 

Beautiful Sussex 

I got back from my trip to England safely and it was such a success that I've booked another trip there in July. Two weekends ago I went to stay with a friend and former colleague (she was my mentor in an office job once). She retired ages ago and is now 80 but you would never guess to see her aliveness and I wanted to see her before she moves North to be closer to her son.

It was a beautiful spring weekend in the Sussex Weald, the classic rolling landscape of Southern England. She has a very pretty garden full of songbirds, woodpeckers, nuthatches and more. We went to the historic garden of Sheffield Park which was vibrant in the spring sunshine. The background photo on my blog was taken at nearby Painshill Park, also designed in the 18th century by Capability Brown and both are classic English landscape gardens that look natural but are wholly artificial. I'm not sure my nail polish can match some of these colours...

Coot nest with four chicks

Five Canada goslings. They're sweet at this age. Then they grow up and become a pest!

 

David Attenborough

Many happy returns to Sir David "Whispering Dave" Attenborough on his 100th birthday. 

Known all over the world as an excellent broadcaster he is also an approachable, personable man. He lived close to my primary school and came and told us about animals one day. He could often be seen strolling to the shops locally in the same bush jacket he wore on his jungle escapades. Altogether a nice, genuine man and it's great to hear he is in good health at such an impressive age.

I'm not sure my pictures of water bird chicks above will win any wildlife photography prizes, but treat them as a birthday card from an appreciative viewer.

Sue x 

Pink Punters: a tribute

 I am very sad to hear that fire has destroyed the Pink Punters night club in England. 

Like many, I benefited very much from the security afforded by a dedicated LGBT venue when I was a nervous debutante. The owner has indicated he will rebuild and I wish him every good fortune in that. 

Firstly, a tribute to the staff, who have also received praise from the fire service, for evacuating everyone without fuss or injuries (it's a big place spread over three floors and a yard and holds up to 650 people). At a time when one of the chief items of news where I now live is the inquiry into the New Year's Eve fire at a not dissimilar venue at Crans-Montana in Switzerland, where 41 young people died and 115 were injured, not enough thanks and attention is given to people who do things right in these circumstances. Owner Frank McMahon deserves praise for ensuring his staff were properly trained and safety procedures operated correctly. I believe Frank lost his home as well as his business in the blaze. All my love and sympathy to him and the staff for the effects on their livelihoods and for the trauma suffered. Also the distress no doubt suffered by the person arrested on suspicion of arson who has now been released. And the patrons there at the time. The human costs of these tragedies is underestimated.

In the first instance, when LGBT people, and especially trans people, are under open attack from UK authorities, the media and hate groups, it was hard not to attribute malice to the fire. But arson has been ruled out by the police and fire brigade and the blaze is deemed to have been accidental. It does follow a spate of smaller fires at the venue. 

It takes a long time to recover from tragedies like this and I have sent PPs thanks for past times and such hope for their future as I can offer.

Pink Punters was a local institution and many straight and cis people in the Milton Keynes area went there in preference to clubs elsewhere in a city that is often criticised for its poor nightlife because they found it safe, well run and more fun. I recall one evening when my friends and I went on a non-trans night and it was full of local clubbers with us TGirls as a minority. That's good, actually, as I look forward to a day when the term "trans-friendly" is redundant and everyone can feel welcome and at home anywhere.

So thank you, Pink Punters, for being the venue where I had my very first evening out in public and attended my very first event as Sue, in January 2010. The friends I met on that occasion are still good friends. The fact that UK Angels chose PPs as the venue for a national meet-up on their tenth anniversary that day is a tribute to the place. I revisited several times and eventually was privileged to be able to accompany other girls there on their first outings. Like Leeds First Friday, Nottingham Invasion, Sparkle and the like, Pink Punters has been a significant focus for the UK's trans community, and the colourful Pink Punters double decker bus is frequently seen at Pride parades and other events (see below). I wish PPs well in its expressed desire to rise from the ashes, like the brilliantly coloured phoenix bird of legend. 

You can send messages of support to PPs via their message form Pink Punters messages, via PPs' Facebook or Instagram pages, or through local LGBT charities. 

I have only a few photos immediately to hand from the days when Pink Punters was a regular venue for me, in the years 2010-2013, but here are some of those I can muster at present: 

PP's official photo of Ange and me, May 2010

With a bunch of girls including Emma W, Mandy, Tina, Helen ... Feb 2011

With Maddy in the yard, Dec 2012

With Tiff and Ange, upstairs lounge, Oct 2010

With Emma W and Mandy upstairs, Feb 2011

On the main dancefloor. There's another dancefloor deep down in the depths of the dark basement for weird types who like to thrash around to louder noise.

Not playing pool. May 2010

Upstairs, Feb 2011 

Upstairs, Oct 2010

With Tiff, Ange and Gayna in the Yard, May 2010

With Emma H, Gina, Tiff, Maddy and Bobby, Dec 2012

Waiting to go in ...

... and returning to the hotel opposite the club.

The Pink Punters bus at Sparkle 2010 (with Emma doing her thing on stage).

Most of my visits there were before I started this blog but I have previously written about three of the times I went, which present as an illustration of what PPs was to us. 

January 2010 

December 2012

December 2013 

Thank you, Pinks, for all the good times. May there be more.

Sue x 

Smiles and goodies

 In the interests of positive blogging when the world news is less satisfactory, I'd like to acknowledge some acts of kindness by ordinary people in the last few days. And note some fun girl things I brought home from London. 

I went for a walk around the London neighbourhood I used to live in. In the eight years I have been away, some things have changed and some things are the same. I spotted a shopkeeper who is the smiliest, gentlest and happiest person I have ever met and she recognised me through the window of her shop and was as friendly and welcoming as ever; it was almost like I had never been away. It really made my day. If there were more people like her the world would be very beautiful. 

I arrived at an Underground station yesterday to catch the train to the airport laden with over 40 kg of luggage only to find there was no lift or escalator, only a staircase seemingly as infinite as Jacob's Ladder. I boggled at the mountaineering to be done but a fit young man leapt to my rescue and took the heaviest case up for me. I appreciated his thoughtful kindness very much and said so.

At the airport, where the staff are often acerbic and even abusive, I was given good advice and help on check-in and, at security, one young man who had to check my hand baggage was polite, kind and apologetic for the inconvenience in a way I have never known before. Both, incidentally, were British Asian, the sort of people the current crop of nasty political parties and their many followers detest.

At one of my favourite local restaurants in my old neighbourhood - a Nepalese one - the owner said he no longer offered my favourite dish on his official menu but would make it for me anyway. It was probably the best curry I have ever had.

My cis friends were very keen to know how my trans life was going and if I was getting enough support, and were condemnatory of the transphobia that is prevalent in official circles these days. It's good to have allies who step up without being asked.

And lovely Stephanie, despite the stress and inconvenience, took three crowded buses to meet me in defiance of the London Underground strike when normally she would have taken just a single train. 

It takes very little to make people happy, just a kind word or action at the right moment. 

 

Lips, nails, eyes

I've now bought the stock of new nail varnishes I'd intended to before Christmas but didn't buy at the time as I suffered a very badly broken nail that's taken ages to heal (Pampering & replenishing). There are colours that I've never tried before like lilac, blue and black. 

 

And I got some new smart lipsticks as intended. Rimmel's alarm red has always been my go-to everyday item but there are three others from No 7, in red, pink and plum. I also got some new eye shadow.

Yes, I know they sell makeup where I now live but you get used to certain products and brands so since I was in familiar territory I thought I'd take the opportunity.

 

Clothes store

I still have most of my clothes in storage. It's been a while since they fit me! But I rationalised the packing cases with all my fem clothes so they have been reduced from 18 to 16, including my wigs, now down from two crates to one, and my hosiery from three crates to two. Can you really have too many tights? 

I found and brought home some items I'd forgotten I had, like a black skater dress and a silk wrap. I wonder if the dress will look OK! As for the '80s bubblegum pink leggings, I have no idea what to do with those. Still less the legwarmers. How come so many good things got purged in my Age of Denial and not the stuff that was best left behind in the era from which it came?

Wonderfully, I found a whole unopened bottle of one of my very favourite perfumes, Versace's Crystal Noir. This is great as my current bottle was opened so long ago that it's losing its oomph.

I also bought new underwear and, no, you don't get to see it! 

For now my party frocks, LBDs and evening dresses remain packed away until I can squeeze back into them. I'm getting there ... 

Sue x 

Girls day out in London

 (or: this blonde and this brunette went to Chinatown.)

I am visiting England at the moment. It’s been a while since I went out fully femme but I had the opportunity this week and, despite the London Underground being on strike, I arranged to meet up for lunch in Chinatown with my lovely friend Stephanie. 

I have been staying in a hotel in Teddington at the very South Western limits of Greater London. I was nervous about my looks as I think I am getting old and saggy but actually, once I was made up and my hair was fixed, I think I look cute enough.

I wore a short floral dress, a black cardigan and oldest pair of boots I have, which certainly needed a polish after years in storage. 

 

It was only later that I realised this was the exact same dress I wore last time I met Stephanie in London two years ago. D’oh! 

It was a pleasant sunny spring day but not really warm so I had my thick coat and sparkly scarf and was glad of them. I have never felt warm in London which is why I moved south.

I wondered if I’d be nervous after this long time away from the scene but actually I walked out of the hotel feeling confident and happy and took the train up to town. Because of the transport strike I walked to the centre from Waterloo, wandering into a few shops along the way, and through Leicester Square where they were preparing for the première of The Devil Wears Prada II. 

I met Stephanie under the statue of Eros in Piccadilly Circus. The great thing about being out in a big city is that it’s actually in the most crowded places that you are least likely to be outed as a trans woman. That midnight trip to the post box we all start out with is the sure fire way to be spotted, whereas big crowds are too busy with their own business to take notice of you.

Stephanie likes oriental food and I was happy with that so we had lunch in the heart of Chinatown.

Afterwards the tout on the door took our photo with all the lanterns in the street.

And then we went shopping in Covent Garden. I ended up buying some lipsticks and nail polishes as my stocks have been dwindling. We also took a stroll down to the river and sat in the Embankment Gardens where we had had this great photo taken with our friends back in 2013.

We went to Trafalgar Square where we posed under the Fourth Plinth I’d seen last year as it is currently home to an artwork of trans people’s faces. 

And by the fountains. 

We ended our day with a quiet drink in the snug corner by the fireplace at the Chandos pub that’s always been my favourite pub location. It’s become expensive, though. A small bottle of pear cider is over £7.50!

Thanks to Stephanie for being lovely company as ever and for defying the strike and battling her way into the city centre on the buses to meet me. Best wishes to Grace who would have joined us if things had been less fraught. I’ll see you next time.

I finished by trying a Franziska-style elevator shot back at the hotel. Not great, but it’s my first attempt!

Well, that was a shot in the arm. There is nothing more joyous that having a day out en femme for a bit of sightseeing, shopping and lunch with a friend. I felt recharged and very content. 

Sue x

Journeying to the Underworld (and the Underwear)

 I've not been feeling too well this last week or so - physically very tired yet not sleeping well. Maybe it's some small bug I've picked up. Nevertheless, I've been getting myself organised to go to London next week, where I hope to meet up with a couple of trans friends among others. I also hope to stock up on my preferred styles of everyday lingerie, hosiery and nail varnishes. Sure, they sell all these things where I live now but if, over many years or trial and error, you've settled on stuff that really, really works well for you then you should stick to it. 

I was fretting because I still have clothes in a deposit in London, including my pretty frocks that I was hoping to wear there, especially now that I have got a bit slimmer and should fit back into them. But all this week the deposit security shutter has been broken and out-of-hours access was unavailable. Thankfully, at the last minute, they've fixed it. I'd be more than annoyed to travel a thousand miles at quite some cost just to be locked out of the main place I need to be! 

I hope, therefore, to be able to add some pictures to Sue's Out and About album soon. It's been a bit of a desert this year.

As ever, I am not looking forward to immigration to London. I hear the new systems are not working properly but every piece of information I have found on this contradicts every other piece of information. So who knows what chaos I'll find. At least I have two passports.

 

Journey to the Underworld

Not really relevant to trans matters but I thought you might like to see some of the best photos I've ever taken, of a literally awe-inspiring place.

Last month I visited Rome and one day I took the train to Tivoli in the hill country. I'd been there before, nearly 30 years ago, with a sister who was working in Rome at the time and we enjoyed the stunning gardens of the Villa d'Este with their spectacular fountains. But what captured our imagination more were the 'gardens' of the Villa Gregoriana. I've been wanting to revisit ever since.

Tivoli (ancient Tibur) is washed by the Aniene River (ancient Anio) which here plunges into a huge hole in the earth in a series of cascades and caverns in a manner so dramatic that the site used to be seen as an entrance to the classical Underworld, and a temple of a sybil (a prophetess) was built above the chasm. The constant battle of man to shore up the loose rockforms to prevent flooding with nature's desire to bring everything tumbling down creates a unique spot that is pregnant with meaning. The deep chasm and its paths and terraces circling down to the bottom is so like the funnel of Hell imagined in Dante's Inferno that it can be quite unnerving. Indeed, the lower parts of the chasm are called Hell's Vale. A must-see stop on the Grand Tour of the well-heeled in previous centuries, the temples on the cliff have been painted a thousand times, often as stand-ins for Athens or Rome; water drips from overhangs, bursts from rock walls, cascades a hundred metres down and disappears in a churning vortex into a hole in a cave before bursting out of the cliff on the other side. It's genuinely awesome.

I'll let the photos and film clips do the talking.

 

 

I'm convinced that Gustave Doré must have seen this place with its gnarled trees clinging to tumbledown rocks before making his famous illustrations for Dante's Inferno. 

 

Both Luggy the LGBT Crab and I were very thrilled by it all.

Luggy and the Grand Cascade across the chasm

After three hours of scrabbling up and down rocky paths, I found a restaurant right by the sybil's temple overlooking the ravine. It was a uniquely beautiful spot, especially under the pergola where the wisteria was just coming into blossom.

It says a lot about a culture that, no matter where you've been in Italy - climbing a mountain, diving the depths, walking the countryside, heavy-duty shopping, etc - you will always find a restaurant just where you need it!

I had a complaint from a regular reader that the last time I mentioned my eating out, I didn't detail what I ate. So here at the beautiful 300-year-old Sibilla restaurant, I chose the local speciality pasta, which was thick spaghetti with cheese and black pepper sauce. I followed this with the owner's recommended roast veal with tuna sauce. I asked if they could make me a mixed salad to go with it but he suggested that if I wanted a vegetable accompaniment I should try his artichokes stuffed with pistachios and herbs and they were amazing, and unbelievably good value, too. To finish I had the home-made hazelnut nougat honeycomb icecream (like a soft, cold Crunchie bar) and they brought me a lovely liqueur made of local almonds. Perfect and at a very acceptable price ... I didn't want to leave!

Have a nice weekend. A no nightmares of hell! 

Sue x 

Queer time with Frankenstein

 Is Frankenstein a queer icon?

One of the lesser known things to see in Rome is the Keats-Shelley House, which was almost empty when I visited, despite its being right by the famous 'Spanish Steps'. Keats is the English Romantic poet and the Shelleys are the poet and his novelist wife. Keats' died in this house at the age of just 26; had he lived to old age, might he have been the greatest English poet? I think he could have been. His bedroom overlooks the steps. What an incredible home to live and die in.

But I'd like to talk about the most interesting thing I found in there, which is Mary Shelley's portable writing slope on which she penned much of Frankenstein, aged around 19. The book at the back is a signed copy of the novel.

 

The label beside it posited Frankenstein as a queer text and so piqued the interest of my travelling companion, Lizzy the Lesbian Lobster, who is always on the lookout for queer icons.

 

The label reads: 

Missing narratives …
Mary Shelley’s writing slope

Mary Shelley is an exception to the habit of erasing women from literary history, despite her own efforts to promote her husband’s legacy at the expense of her own. Her most renowned work, Frankenstein, has been and still is being reclaimed by several marginalised groups, from the rise of feminist literary criticism in the 1970s to trans and queer interpretations in the 2010s and early 2020s. In these latter instances, Victor Frankenstein’s making of the Creature was variably understood as a disregard for heteronormative “laws” of reproduction, or as a projection of homosexual desire onto another male body. The Creature has also been reread as a queer character, given his incapacity to adapt to a normative society, or even as a transgender figure, for his body disavows his creator’s expectations. In general, all these readings agree that Frankenstein’s offspring incarnates the queer urge to disrupt society’s rules. 

Personally, I think that's stretching it a bit. If you read the book - and the prose is none of the easiest, so good luck - the poor creature starts very far from being an intentional disrupter but wishes only to integrate and be accepted. Rejected firstly by his creator and then by humanity, his innocence and virtue are broken by suffering through no fault of his own. That I can relate to. A body that doesn't fit norms and perceptions might be another thing that resonates with trans people. 

 

Hungary and beyond

Best wishes to my lovely Hungarian friend Wilhelmina whom I have known since the first day I went out as Sue. The change of government in her country is very welcome within and outside that country's borders. Truth be told, we'll have to wait and see if the new parliament is genuinely willing and able to undo the damage of the previous incumbent. Given the usual attitudes of Christian nationalism as espoused by the incoming party, I'm not sure that there will be a huge move to improve trans rights there, but we can hope that with a bit of EU pressure (and cash, no doubt), things will get better. 

Last month I voted against the transphobic Italian government and I notice increasing voting shifts throughout the West - e.g. Canada, Poland, Holland and now, impressively, Hungary - against extreme populist agendas that don't deliver improvements, only isolation. No, trans people are not to blame for your society's ills and its economic downturns, as populists state. I've maintained here for years in the teeth of general despair that the public at large don't buy the transphobia that contemporary nasty parties have been nailing so firmly to their masts. When the nasties are gone, I think there will be better rights for trans people as new outlooks try to undo the damage of the present. 

 

Propaganda

And talking of bad politics, here is Propaganda Street in Rome. 

Named after the Congregatio de Propaganda Fide, Latin for the Congregation for Spreading the Faith, an office of the Catholic Church that promotes missionary work, it is headquartered in this attractive baroque building a stone's throw from the Keats Shelley House. 

So originally the word Propaganda had no especial political connotations at all. Just so you know.

The building has extraterritorial status, like an embassy. So I wonder if, say, you are being chased by the Italian police, if you can run in here and claim asylum. Mind you, you'll probably be converted to Catholicism and you'll have to swap that frock for something like these pink and lace numbers. Tough choices!

Sue x