Preparing the big event

Well, the pretty bedlinen is spread and there are some beautiful flowers on the table. I'm having two TGirls, Stella and Joanne, stay with me over the next few days as we're employed as barmaids at the Erotica show over the weekend.

Just before you think we're a bunch of sex maniacs, I'd point out that Erotica is just a trade fair, and erotic only in a sort of British nudge nudge, wink wink kind of way. You could take your granny there without too many blushes. The idea for most of us girls is to have fun and be ambassadors for the trans community. We were really popular last time and so many visitors left the show knowing a lot more about trans life and they've given us a bigger and better location this time.

It's at Tobacco Dock (next door to Rupert Murdoch's infamous printworks), Fri/Sat noon-9pm, Sun noon-8pm. Come and say hi (but don't bring any reporters from The Sun with you).

And on Saturday night we receive our 'pay': free tickets to the Winter Ball at Club Colosseum in Vauxhall. I think that will require a change of outfit.

I'll report back in due course.

Sue x

The Hierarchy

Most of those who are trans will know the hierarchy. Those who aren't are unlikely to want to wade into the complexities of the trans hierarchy, which can be as arcane as that of a centuries-old institution like a university, church or order of nobility, even thought it is actually very new. The hierarchy simply disgusts me and I find it hard to talk about it without expressing that disgust. So I will commend my talented and witty friend Amanda's video to you as she has done it very well.

Enjoy.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/amandaparnell/10114176554/

Well done, Amanda, and thanks.

Sue x

Ungroovy, baby!

For various reasons I've spent a lot of time in Central London these last two weeks. The other day I was in Regent Street and a group of American tourists coming towards me were enthusing about Carnaby Street.

"The coolest street in London" one was insisting.

"Say, we're close to Carnaby Street, right?" one asked me.

"Yes," I replied, "just through there. But if it's cool you're after, you're really about forty years too late."

"No way!"

And then, for reasons I cannot fully explain, I broke into an Austin Powers impersonation: "Oh yeah, baby. The swingers got ousted by developers and they're just a bunch of squares, man. It's very ungroovy now, baby."

I got the weirdest stares from the group.

And then it dawned on me. When you're presenting as a London chick, it doesn't do to turn into Hollywood's idea of an eccentric English dude.

"Erm, have fun," I said as I disappeared into the crowd.

Oh, well. Maybe I'm just a lot less self-conscious these days!

Sue x

Future bookings

I still have to write up the great three days I had with the Walkeys when they visited London in August, but let’s leave that for when the weather is grey and miserable and we need a reminder of summer.

But I have some special plans ahead and have been booking up accordingly.

First up is another trip to Berlin and this might be my first outing en femme on the continent of Europe. But we’ll see. Certainly Berlin has a long history of transvestites, as witness this well-known photo before the Nazis stamped on them.

I'm going to be a barmaid again at the TGirl bar at London’s Erotica show in October. We did this two years ago and were a real hit (see my blog post here http://suerichmond.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/barmaids-go-go.html). They insisted on our coming back, and this time they have given us a better pitch. It’s a great opportunity for us to interact with the public and show them that we are humane, elegant, hard-working, nice to talk to and personable. We improved the understanding of trans matters for so many people that it was a seriously positive thing to do, as well as being a laugh. Hard work, though.

I’m also booking December’s Big Night Out at Pink Punters. A lot of my friends will be there and this seems to be becoming a tradition.

And finally, there’s Christmas. It may very well be another girly Christmas rather than one with family, like it was two years ago. That would be really festive.

So, it’s not all work work work (but I really ought to concentrate more on that!)

Sue x

A break at the seaside

Well, I am feeling guilty. After the August holiday season you are supposed to get back into the rhythm of work and normality. But I squeezed one last bit of holiday time into early September by visiting my friend Stella who has recently moved to Brighton. 

The British seaside is normally characterised by wind, rain, spray, fog and cold and the British themselves are a hardy breed, swimming in freezing waters with churning waves, eating ice cream in the cold and wet, and generally being determined to be in a Good Holiday Mood despite the howling sandstorm blowing over their beach picnic. This summer, however, the climate here has been wonderful and the weather was as perfect as it could possibly be with not a cloud in the sky. It was more like the Mediterranean (but with fish & chips).

I got an earlier train then anticipated which gave me a chance to visit the lovely little Lanes with their boutiques. I met Stella, looking amazing after a makeover at Mac, and we drove to her new home, taking the scenic route with the hood down - and getting compliments from pedestrians, too. A bit like Thelma and Louise, but without the violence!

In the evening we joined the local TGirls of the Clare Project for their monthly Posh Nosh gathering. It’s always good to meet other trans folk wherever they feel they are on the scale as there are always experiences worth sharing. This month they met at the Mesmerist pub, which I found agreeable enough. The food and drink were not bad and the atmosphere was pleasant (though the couple opposite snogging all night were a distraction). I had a good chat with several girls there. I’ll bear the meet in mind next time I go to Brighton. Here’s their website if you are in the area http://www.clareproject.org.uk

It’s so peaceful where the Stellas live and I slept like a log. The next day was a perfect cloudless sunny day. We had a lazy breakfast outdoors and I had a chance to sunbathe in their garden as Stella got ready. We drove into town and immediately went on the  Brighton Wheel http://www.brightonwheel.com/ which is a smaller version of the London Eye / Millennium Wheel and was moved to Brighton from South Africa where it had been set up for the World Cup. We didn’t opt for the official photo and souvenir guidebook as they wanted twenty pounds for them (!!!) so here are some of mine of the view of the pier and the beach.

Though hot, it was also hazy in the distance so we couldn’t see all the coast of Sussex as you can on a totally clear day. Fun, and for £8 I though it was worth it (you go round a few times).

More shopping and back home for dinner outside in the garden as the evening drew in on a perfect summer’s day.

Many thanks to Stella and her wonderful wife for a lovely break.

Sue x

Kings and queens and jokers

[ADD 15 March 2015: a few parts of this post have been altered in the light of subsequent events.]

I have just come back from sunny Brighton, which you will hear about soon. But first, London Kings Cross, three women and an amusing anecdote …

Last Thursday was a beautiful summer’s day and I met [some friends] at Kings Cross as we wanted to see the new development at the back which is replacing the old gasometers and run-down streets renowned in the last two decades for prostitution and general seediness. The wonderful ’50s Ealing Comedy The Ladykillers was set in the area, but it’s harder now to imagine Alec Guinness, Peter Sellers and Herbert Lom skulking in bomb-damaged Victorian terraced houses when you see the new glass and steel additions to the stout brickwork of former train sheds and warehouses. The Victoriana is still there, but disguised and reworked into the new Central St Martins art college (which is obviously now no longer central or close to St Martins). It didn’t take long too look around as, actually, this area is not going to be fully operational as a new office and commercial centre for another couple of years at least.

Funnily enough, Ann Drogyny had been there a few days before (see her blog entry here http://transfastic.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/a-pheonix-rises.html) so I was mindful of her comments. Nevertheless we decided to have lunch at the Grain Store restaurant overlooking the fountain that boasts over a thousand variable jets. Lunch there was amazing. My starter was a pear and Roquefort salad which, although a dish you see from time to time, was very fresh with crisp endive. The poached salmon with peach and salted watermelon was extraordinary. I have never eaten this combination of foods before and never had salted watermelon but it worked brilliantly. The pudding of chocolate mousse, almond icecream and chocolate rice crispie cake was delicious. And I had a Roman cassis and clove wine, which was certainly interesting. My companions had the grilled woodcock skewers with pumpkin and leaves as a main, which they said was good. Service was attentive and pleasant and the staff were enthusiastic about the food, its sources and the way it was cooked. Though more than I usually like to pay for lunch, I thought it acceptable at under £39 a head. And the outside setting was very pleasant and the sun was lovely and warm.

There are over 1000 jets in the fountains at the new Kings Cross development.

My companions, having had the privilege (a somewhat dubious one in their view) of having been born girls, were again very full of questions about me and how being trans affected life and how I saw things going forward. It’s so hard to give answers that are full and can be comprehended by someone who hasn’t spent forty years wondering every day about her gender. When you are brought up a girl, you never really think about it, it’s just life. For me, it’s the question that’s been in my head every day since I was a toddler. How much mental effort have I expended in all that time? An awful lot. How many answers have I come up with for all that effort? An awful few! The trans community has a habit of isolating itself and gazing at its own navel rather too much sometimes and being asked challenging questions is vital in clarifying one’s own thoughts and feelings within the wider contexts of life and society.

And I got a lot of stick for wearing tights. Excuse me! They’re the lightest, most gossamer-thin 5 denier pair available, almost invisible and make my legs even more fabulous! I reckon it’s jealousy! But this girl is a hosiery uberfan and will always wear hosiery, whatever’s appropriate to the occasion. So there!

Anyway, we caught a lot of sun and one thing we agreed on was that being a little kiddie splashing worry-free in a fountain was a good thing to be.

Now, let’s end with a true story about Kings Cross prostitutes. They were famous at one time: the Director of Public Prosecutions about 20 years ago had to resign after kerb-crawling in the area and the whole phenomenon there became widely known. But my story concerns a guy I used to work with. Throughout the morning he would drink cup after cup of coffee. At lunchtime he would go to the pub and drink two or three pints of Guinness. Then he’d return to work and drink mug after mug of tea before finishing work and heading back to the pub for more beer. He must have had the most robust kidneys in the world because I never met anyone who could swallow so much liquid in a day. Anyway, his enjoyment of beer would often go on late into the night, so much so that he would sometimes miss the last train home and would be stranded at Kings Cross. However, he would just wait the four hours or so until the first train of the morning, get home, have a short kip, shower, and head back to work. Anyway, one time when he had missed the last train and was sitting out the night at Kings Cross station, a prostitute approached him with her cheery cry, “Business, love?” He politely declined and she went on her way. An hour or so later she passed him again. “Come on, darlin’,” she said, “’ow about a bit o’ business, then?” Once more he declined her thoughtful suggestion. Later that night she passed him a third time, with a further offer of her tailored services, with discount, and once again he turned her down. Annoyed, she shoved a pound coin in his hand and told him for Gawd’s sake to go get himself a cup of coffee! 

Sue x

Gently into autumn

Here’s to a new season and maybe a happier time.  

It’s been a great summer, the best for many years, at least in terms of weather, and because work was quiet in August I was able to get out a lot and top up my tan. Indeed, I have several enjoyable events still to write up. I’m hoping to go and stay with Stella in Brighton this week, work permitting.

I’m afraid, though, that the stone in weight I had to lose at the start of the year has now turned into two stone to lose. Oops! Time to reregister at fat club, I reckon. (Sorry, don't know what that is in kg)

I have always tried to share as much positive stuff as I can about being transgendered. It’s a pest being trans but I’m determined to make the best of it. Truthfully, though, it’s been a very draining summer emotionally with all my family on the operating table in one way or another, my friends gender surgery going badly wrong, various awkward neighbourhood matters, a supportive friend’s death, and hearing recently that a TGirl friend was badly beaten up by another deranged TGirl who threatened to kill her and outed her to the neighbours. None of that has been good so blogging positively has been hard.

So I’m hoping for a more joyous autumn. I hope it will be for you too.

Sue x

Compliments and more

Yesterday was a girls’ night out in Brick Lane but before arriving there I stopped off at the home of my friend whose surgery went wrong. It was nice to see that she was looking quite a bit better and was more mobile. It was also good to meet her mum. I’m hoping for the best.

On my way there I had to walk through a crowded high street and busy residential area and felt a bit conspicuous in my floaty summer dress amongst the prams and shoppers. A very smart looking guy in a striped shirt, colourful braces and trilby called out: “Nice legs, love! You look great! Have a good one!” and flashed me a nice smile and a thumbs up. Oh, I do enjoy the flattery!

So I met the girls at Verge Bar on the corner of Brick Lane and Bethnal Green Road as usual. It was nice to see Stella again as I haven’t seen her for two years.

At Verge Bar with Sarah, Stephanie, Rachel, Irene and Stella.

People relaxing at that bar are always very happy to chat and take the necessary photos of us. A couple at an outside table were very curious about all us TGirls and asked us a lot about who and why we are who we are and it was nice to talk to them and fill them in.

We went on to have dinner at City Spice up the road. Their chicken goa with mushroom rice is always a favourite of mine. The waiters are always nice to us, too (not to mention the free wine they give us and 25% off the bill which means we get dinner for only about £13 per person).

At City Spice with Stephanie, Stella, Irene and Pippa. Steph's photo.

Pippa, Stephanie and I took a taxi to Leicester Square to visit Ku-Bar. I’d heard a lot about Ruby Tuesdays, which is the big lesbian night out in the basement bar there. Few men are allowed in but TGirls are welcome. Truthfully, though, it was so crowded and heaving that it was hard to enjoy it much, especially when my drink got knocked into my cleavage – nothing that stained, fortunately. We didn’t stay long – I guess that we’re getting a bit old for this sort of thing. But we had a much more relaxing time at Freedom Bar on Wardour Street which is comfortable and wasn’t nearly so full.

At Freedom Bar with Pippa and Stephanie.

I left the others to start my agonising journey home by night bus, which always takes two hours partly because I always just miss the bus and have a full 30 minutes to wait for the next one. For such a huge bustling city with so much going on in the evenings, London’s transport situation becomes very bad after midnight. At least it was a warm night. Again, a nice compliment at the bus stop from a woman waiting there: “You look nice.” Thank you! I could get used to this!

Sue x

Heatwave!

Here’s the post about fun in the sun that I was going to write a week or so ago but got distracted by my friend’s plight. She’s been discharged from hospital after spending nearly a week being dealt with under A&E procedures and is at now home being looked after by the best of all possible nurses, her mum.

The usual vocal members of the T community are currently commenting on international TGirl of the moment, Chelsea (aka Bradley) Manning. I’m cautious on this one as her case reminds me somewhat of that of David Shayler, aka Delores Kane.

Anyway, back to more positive stuff. This summer has been unusual in the British Isles in that it has been HOT and SUNNY! After four bitter, snowy winters and five lousy summers we have at last had a proper summer. So what’s a girl to do but put on a pretty dress and go out and have some fun in the sun.

How about celebrating a friend’s birthday with a picnic on Primrose Hill overlooking London, for instance?

Or meeting up with friends for a spot of lunch at one of London’s oldest hostelries, followed by a drink in the outdoor summer bar at the Royal Festival Hall?

Or organising lunch for eight girls in our favourite venue, Salieri on the Strand, followed by a stroll in the Embankment Gardens and a photoshoot outside the Savoy Hotel?

Glamour girls outside the Savoy, as arranged by Stella. l-r: Irene, Stephanie, Rachel, Linda, me. Irene's photo.

Or spending three days taking friends round the sights, like the newly restored Cutty Sark in Greenwich?

Or just mooching around the shops and enjoying a coffee? Sunday lunch at a pub in Dulwich? Messing about on the river? This city is so full of life and when the sun shines it’s hard to beat. When the sun shines …

The sun lights up the city, late afternoon.

More on the sightseeing break in another post.

Sue x

When surgery goes wrong

The friend I accompanied to hospital three weeks ago is back there. Let me be up front: her gender op did not go well. Those of a squeamish disposition may want to stop reading here.

She spent the requisite week at the hospital after her operation and was sent home. I saw her at home a week after that and she could barely walk, though she insisted that we go out to lunch as she was getting bored of her own four walls. We did have a nice lunch with another friend, and she had a hearty appetite for traditional British Sunday roasts (note the plural!). She was, however, complaining of a discharge that she couldn't seem to wipe away. Two days later, having got in touch with the hospital, she rang to tell me she was frightened, that something like the alien in the sci-fi films was coming out of her. She photographed the problem, sent it to the hospital and they called her back and removed the offending 'alien'. Two days after this she was sent by her doctor to her local hospital because of an infection in her operated area and they sent her back to Charing Cross (CHX).

CHX is one of Britain's top hospitals and she is in good hands. The nurses are very attentive to her and she has friends, family and colleagues visiting her and phoning so she is not alone by any means. However, the infection inside her was terrible with much of her abdomen and thighs swollen. She was operated on this morning to remove infected matter from her abdomen and this evening she seemed much better, but she will have to stay in hospital for another day or two connected to antibiotic and painkiller drips.

This is not good. Whilst she looks good on the outside with no obvious scars, the loss of her inner lining is something that has only ever happened to one patient before, and the consequent infection was very painful, frightening and unsightly. She is surprisingly positive despite all this grief, fear and pain. I am hoping her surgeon, Mr Bellringer, will be able to right this as she deserves a proper outcome for her years of patience.

For my part it has made me think. I feel less squeamish and troubled by medical matters and hospitals than I was (I saw the photo of her 'alien', a strip of rotting flesh some inches wide and a foot long hanging out of her almost to her knees, and saw her disfigured abdomen swollen lopsidedly with infection). That is positive in a perverse way. But this has now put paid to the last remaining notions that I might seek transgender surgical intervention for myself. And boosted my querying about just what transsexualism is really all about.

I am sorry for the directness of this post but I am quite distressed and angry about this. I, personally, have never met anyone whose gender surgery went completely right first time, but this is a bad fail.

Back to the positives again next post.

Sue x

UPDATE 21/8/13: I have now visited my friend in hospital three times this week. She is still not well and the emotional strain has told on her, not to mention the exhaustion resulting from the pain and the infection. But she has had many visits and messages from her friends, and her boss has been an absolute angel with his visits, gifts and chauffeuring. Her mum will be coming to look after her from tomorrow. She has no regrets about having had her surgery as she now feels that her body is right and matches how she perceives herself in her mind's eye. It is a tragedy that such a thing should have happened to one who has shown herself so worthy of success in transition.

Although the paragraphs above contain some gory details, they are not the complete picture of this upsetting situation by a long way. It seemed inappropriate to post any more publicly, both for the sake of her privacy and, frankly, because anything more would render the text too lurid. I will be writing to her surgeon, as I feel others close to her will be, to emphasise that we expect her to get the best outcome possible from now on.

Sue x