A shaggy dog story

I get my wigs from Trendco just off Notting Hill Gate and visit them usually twice a year. They are always very helpful and knowledgeable and have a large stock. I usually see Michael or Will and get a private consultation room which has a big mirror and a comfy chair.

This time I got my usual Noriko Carrie in cappuccino, which is a style that suits me, being very hairy and covering my odd-shaped head well (though it greatly reduces my periferal vision). The colour is also very close to my natural hair colour.

This time I also liked the new René Kayleigh style so much I bought that as well (on initial offer and with 10% off for buying two). It’s shorter and slightly lighter, though similar. They’re both relatively cheap, machine-made nylon wigs but perfectly presentable. However, I did look over some wonderful hand-woven ones that I may very well invest in. After all, I go out a lot and having decent hair is essential, especially if it lasts longer, too.

My eyebrows are a nightmare, though. It’s as if they are the demon twin lovechildren of Denis Healy and Lassie (which is itself not an image you want to dwell on too long). I had allowed them to grow so they could be better shaped for Sparkle. I myself spent one and a half hours tweezing them the night before till they were merely jokeshop brows rather than something the Forestry Commission might have claims on, and then went round the corner from Trendco to the Calder Pharmacy on the Gate itself where they do beauty treatments and the girl worked on them furiously with tweezers for a further half hour till they were tamed, if still somewhat bold and brooding. It took further work in Manchester to get them even partly feminine looking.

Having watched Emma Walkey have hers tinted and waxed (and waxed and waxed!) at Benefit off Carnaby Street I’m thinking that is probably the only way to go in future. Some DDT tropical caterpillar spray might also work. Sheesh! One day I’ll get these bolts in my neck filed down a bit, too!

Oh, I didn’t mention my back wax at my local beauty salon. You don’t want to know!

Sue x

Trouble

I first got in touch with other trans people in 2003 and had my first makeover at the Boudoir in 2004, which was my first physical contact with the T world. Since then I have been in touch almost daily with other trans people and, from about four years ago, started to meet up with them regularly. This contact over the last decade has been an exhilarating, affirming and positive experience.

Until now.

Over the last two or three months I and many others have been subject to a much greater than average degree of online trolling and abuse. My favourite website, Angels, for example, seems to have collapsed with many people leaving because of the aggression. I’ve taken it up with the moderators but the problem seems to have worsened. It is very sad, rather like seeing the face of an old friend being punched whilst bystanders watch and then turn to leave. Note that my disappointment is by no means as intense as that of other members who have contacted me about it and expressed some strong views.

But more troubling than this is the personal aggravation that I have been subjected to all of a sudden.

Just for instance, the wife of a TGirl I had been happily meeting up with these last couple of years apparently thought I might be a mistress having an affair with her husband whom she’d only just found out to be a transvestite. Being put in that awful and undeserved position has shocked me, not least because I had previously been led to believe that she knew of his crossdressing. You can imagine how enjoyable it was to have an unexpected phone conversation at work with an angry wife on such an intimate subject.

Other friends whom I have taken to lunch seem to have decided that I don’t shape up to some new-formed ideals of theirs and have attacked me very unpleasantly and quite unexpectedly after some years of friendship. One even set up an account on a site specifically and exclusively to send me a nasty email, before closing that account so I can’t reply. How cowardly is that?

Worse are the communications from some political groups contacting me via another ‘friend’, without any agreement on my part, who somehow think that I may be interested in their form of violent protest and even sent me a magazine revelling in photos of policemen and others with their heads kicked in.

Whilst abuse of trans people is certainly wrong, the abuse, supremacism, hate and violence put out by certain trans people and organisations are totally unacceptable. Many people at Sparkle, the national transgender celebration last weekend, pointed this out, too. There is an unease and dislike in the mainstream trans community of a minority of snobs and bullies. I am in no doubt that daring to point out and take a stand against this antisocial behaviour will lead to further attacks on me, but I feel people should know where much of the malice in this walk of life is actually coming from. I will continue to live my life positively, law-abidingly and in the mainstream. I know the law and my rights after twenty years of working in the field and always apply them, exactly as I did last month when my frail, elderly neighbours were targeted by nasty conmen and I called the police, or this month when seeking legal advice for redress for breach of contract. I contacted police and security last year on both occasions when transphobic attacks were made on me in public. Being trans and therefore vulnerable does not, however, put trans people themselves above the law, or above social norms either. I am necessarily involving a lawyer and police in dealing with some of this latest behaviour.

Do not attack me, bully me, troll my posts, lie about me, impugn my integrity or threaten me again. I will take action against people who do so because I always act against persons who harm me. Whilst I am a gentle person who dislikes conflict, I have overriding senses of justice and self-preservation.

I will be getting back to my positive outlook again soon, but after a decade of joy followed by several weeks of sudden abuse, you will, please, my dear readers, need to bear with me a bit. I’m so sad, sorry and shocked to have to write this bad news here but it explains why I have posted nothing this last month.

I would like to thank my many friends for all their love, help, support and encouragement these last few weeks and to the organisers of Sparkle which helped me feel positive again. More of that and other good news in a short while as I gradually get back online.

Sue x

Madame JoJo's

This legendary club, founded a long time ago by Soho’s well-known entrepreneur, Paul Raymond, has been somewhere I have wanted to visit since first hearing about it probably in my late teens when a Sunday colour supplement carried an interview with Raymond, the then Madame JoJo and “the boys” (as they called them). I used to wonder if I could ever get a job there as an entertainer or waitress. Until now I never had any opportunity or excuse to go.

It’s only the second trans club I’ve been to in London, the other being the Way Out Club in the City. This is a dedicated venue and is much better. Not large but adequate, its décor is pleasanter, its stage show better and the crowd is more mixed with “normal” people visiting not just TGirls and Admirers, i.e. couples (straight and gay), groups of female/gay friends. In other words, it’s always been a place with a trans slant for anyone to hang out in, as I expected. The loos, however, are inadequate and not nice, and the bar is small and fairly pricey. Located on Brewer Street in the heart of Soho, it could not be more central. Website: http://www.madamejojos.com/ [Update 26/3/25: The site and the club have both closed down now.]

Yesterday (a Wednesday, which is Trannyshack night) I went with two friends – one transsexual and one straight male – and we enjoyed an evening of drinks and dancing, cabaret and chatting. The music is a little too loud for extended conversation, but not deafening as it is in, say, the clubs of Leeds.

The cabaret was not bad. Dusty O the compere introduced two new York girls, who were energetic and excellent, Holly Day (in blue) and I will remember the other’s name in due course. There were other numbers from Mitzi Mackintosh and our old friend Vanilla Lush who was celebrating eight years in the establishment. It was quite fun.

High-energy greetings from New York. These girls have fantastic legs.

Mitzi Mackintosh from Australia doing a mad rendition of Mame.

Vanilla Lush.

I’d go back. It’s a reasonable place to spend a couple of hours.

Sue x

Diamond Jubilee weekend

I could not resist watching this celebration live from the crowds as it was a historic event, which will not be seen again in my lifetime. This post is just to share my photos.

Saturday, when the Queen was at the derby, I went to Tower Bridge to photograph the tall ships that would line the river below the bridge on the following day. I had previously had a sneak preview of the Gloriana rowing barge built for the occasion.

Gloriana moored at Richmond

Tall ships

Ships with the City beyond

The Pool of London from Tower Bridge

Sunday was the greatest day, a river pageant with hundreds of boats. I love my River Thames - I've walked every mile of it, swum in it, boated on it, rowed on it - and I love London, too. So I couldn't miss this occasion in the life of my beloved river. Three hours waiting in a crowd then two hours watching the whole thing float past in the rain, was still worth it. Here are some shots I took from my vantage point near the Oxo Tower.

The Canaletto shot

The royal barge

Historic ships

Monday evening was the jubilee concert outside Buckingham Palace (though I spent the day with friends)

Tuesday saw the cathedral service and the carriage procession to Buckingham Palace. I was in Trafalgar Square and got some great photos, though I could only see the heads of the cavalrymen.

A fashion and dance show covering six decades, starting here with the

 '50s.

Boris Johnson, Mayor of London, gave a short, entertaining speech.

Now this is where a telephoto lens might have come in handy - Life Guards ride through Trafalgar Square

WWII aircraft fly past

Red Arrows over St Martin-in-the-Fields

Nelson and the Red Arrows. I love this shot.

The flypast heading towards the palace

Tickertape

What an amazing and memorable weekend. Millions of people were out despite the rain.

Now for another event that won’t be seen again in my lifetime – the transit of Venus. If only these rainclouds would go away ...

Sue x

Verity is my middle name

It is, you know.

Verity is derived from the word veritas, the Latin for “truth”. I chose it some years ago when I needed to distinguish myself from other Sue Richmonds. I felt that the truth of who I am should be reflected by my name. Corny, I know, but reasonable.

It’s not always easy to know what is true. For instance, I was brought up to believe that certain things were true; it turned out that they weren’t, or that they were opinions that the promoters were keen not to have challenged. Then you grow up, and many people get on with living according to what they feel is actually true. Some people, however, persist in believing what they first heard and, of course, some people promote lies, often on purpose, sometimes unwittingly.

What you read and see on this blog is true. It’s main aim is to record what I get up to chiefly so as to encourage other trans people to get out and enjoy the positive side of being transgendered. I have nothing really to hide any more about who I am and what I do and where I go and who I see. Why would I? Having been forced to live according to other people’s lies before, that way of life doesn’t appeal to me now. Honesty is usually the best policy, don’t you think? Discretion can certainly be a virtue when facing harm, but untruth is rarely helpful and usually damaging.

Thanks for reading.

Sue Verity Richmond x

TGirl, accepted everywhere (in the West End)

It's been a quiet week on the work front so a girl needs to occupy her time with a little retail and the occasional spot of lunch.

It's taken a bit of effort this time to organise the Angels London lunch for reasons too tedious to describe here but I decided to book us into our old favourite, Salieri on the Strand. So I went there on Wednesday to do this. I was a bit grumpy as it had taken me all morning to get ready. As soon as I walked in the staff greeted me with much fuss and were delighted to hear I'd be bringing the girls again. As it was about lunchtime anyway, I decided I might as well eat there anyway.  But when I asked for the bill the waiter said, "Madame, this is with our compliments", and tore the bill up in front of me. I felt overwhelmed by their gesture and got almost tearful. It's so nice to be seen as one of their regulars and to be welcomed so kindly.

I spent an afternoon, which was very wet, looking for possible alternative makeup. I use Mac and Kryolan foundation, with eye makeup from Benefit. None of it is cheap and I've been wondering about alternatives. So I popped into my regular makeup haunts, Charles Fox in Tavistock St and Mac in Neal St and Fouberts Place, but also visited Screen Face in Mercer St and the Make Up Store in Carnaby St. They all offer makeovers and I may try out all their various foundations over the summer and decide if any other works better for me. But the point is that none of the staff in these shops bat an eyelid when a TGirl walks in: she's just another customer. Make Up Store weren't even bothered by my leaving very wet footprints all over their floor! (NB, don't wear ballet flats in a rainstorm as the gunwales are not high enough to prevent water sloshing into them - squelch! squelch!)

I was also delighted to find a fab pair of tights with London skyline pattern on the faux stocking top design in M&S. The cashier was very friendly and chatty.

I suppose I'm mentioning all this to show that a TGirl about town who's gained the confidence just to get on with her business is accepted without any fuss. It takes a while to realise that, and it's something that every TGirl has to work out for herself as no amount of information from more experienced girls will convince her of it.

At the weekend, for my part, there was more acceptance, from very long-standing friends who, until recently, only knew me as a man. A lovely female friend, who is a true jewel of humanity, came to stay and we had a nice time on Saturday trolling round local boutiques and stalls even though I was in male mode, and giving suitable views on the contents of my wardrobe. She had once had a long-term boyfriend who crossdressed, I learned, though she is anyway a very kind, open-minded and accepting person. On Sunday she saw me as a woman in the flesh for the first time and was appropriately complimentary, making good suggestions about toning down my eye makeup and blusher but also complimenting me on my legs (I do have good legs, and that's not a vain boast).

I took her to catch her train home and then went to a nearby terminus to meet Tina, who was leaving her home dressed and travelling by train for the first time. Tina's blog is one of those I regularly follow and she's a brave girl and a lovely person. We met, took the tube to the Strand and went to the restaurant where we met Angela H (on an all-too-rare visit to SE England), Helena, Kimberley, Ange P, Stella and, later, one of my oldest male friends, Richard, who, despite having known me for 25 years as a man, was surprised but totally accepting when I told him about my being trans last year. Although definitely the odd man out, it was a delight for me to have him with us (and be our photographer).

Salieri in the Strand, l-r: me, Tina, Ange; 

(unknown bloke on another table), Kimberley, Helena, Angela, the better side of Stella. 

After lunch, none of us visited the Savoy Taylors' Guild (gents outfitters) opposite.

Angels Sunday lunches are long, lazy affairs but eventually we heaved ourselves out of our seats and Tina, Stella and I went for a stroll round Covent Garden. The 350th anniversary of Punch and Judy (first recorded here by Samuel Pepys in 1662) was being celebrated and we caught the tail end of the shows in St Paul's churchyard. A stroll through the crowded streets (just a few mildly cheeky comments from the less inhibited folk about, but nothing abusive) and some contented shopping amongst the stalls of the piazza and the shops of Neal Street. We all met back up with Kimberley and Ange in the Globe pub on Bow Street (just down from the famous magistrates court building) for a drink and a further natter. Tina had stretched her wings so far as to feel confident in making her journey home on her own. She did brilliantly on this big outing. So we're planning to organise another Angels lunch jointly at Sparkle in Manchester in July.

A week of doing normal stuff with normal people and being treated as normal. It's so satisfying.

Sue x

The ends of Africa

Sadly, I wasn't able to join many of my girlfriends at Leeds First Friday this weekend. A pity as it was exactly a year ago that I was there. However, we London girls know how to keep ourselves entertained. It was quite cold so I was glad of my favourite Nina Varese wool dress. After a short fact-finding mission to the cosmetics emporia of Neal Street, I met up with Joanne at Souk Medina, a Moroccan restaurant in Short's Gardens just off Seven Dials. [Updated site: https://www.soukrestaurant.co.uk/]

I've never eaten there before but we were delighted with it. We sat in the part with low tables and benches bestrewn with cushions, overhung by maroon ceiling drapes giving the sensation of sitting in a tent. They serve beautiful cocktails - as well as the usual kirs and bellinis they have others I have never encountered before. We chose the mai camel (rum, fruit juice and almonds) and the wonderful Sahara (rum, dates, ginger, lime juice, brown sugar).

We chose the Marakkech menu which was wonderful: mixed meze of beautifully smooth hummus, grilled halloumi cheese, prawns, chicken, lamb and zaalouk (aubergines) with pitta bread, followed by tagines of tender chicken, delicious lamb with prunes and almonds, chickpeas and couscous, with delicate baklava and mint tea to finish. The staff were very welcoming and they jingle as they walk because of the belts festooned with metal that they wear. Truthfully, the low tables and benches are not so comfortable to sit and eat at but that is a minor quibble. The ladies loos are beautiful with their traditional tiles and basins in beaten brass. Not the cheapest dinner I've had, but reasonable.

We decided to go to the cinema and see a random film. Just as we left the bellydancer came in. Oh well, it means we'll just have to go back another time to be entertained. I'm not sure I'll ever get my belly as slim as hers, especially after all that food!

The random film, selected at random (well, OK, it was just about to start), was "Beauty", mainly in Afrikaans with some English. A slow-burning tale of a married man coming to terms with being gay. Not always easy to follow, sexually explicit, and disturbing in a brutal rape scene, without full resolution, it nevertheless did hold the attention. Still, after all that sitting in the medina and in the cinema we agreed our bottoms were rather sore (never mind fears of gay rape) so we were happy to stand outside the Porcupine pub in the night air with a quick drink before plunging into the tube to go home.

A good way to spend a Friday night when you can't make it to the T scene in other cities.

Sue x

Surrey capers, GRS and GPS

After weeks of torrential rain, the sun came out on Monday. Best make use of it, I thought, so I took an assortment of trains, each around 18 minutes late (“rutting badgers at Haslemere” and other suitably Perrinesque explanations) to visit a friend in Surrey. I stupidly sent a text about my arrival time not to my friend but to the wife of another friend who has the same name and who must have been very puzzled by it. No wonder no-one was there to pick me up at the station! I blame my mobile phone’s GPS configuration for the confusion, Gormless Person Syndrome. Anyway, we met eventually! Surrey Girl has recently undergone her GRS (which in our context stands for something like girly reorganisation surgery) and is looking so disgustingly fit, happy, beautiful and well following it that I really think this ought to be prescribed to the population at large as part of the government’s happiness agenda.

We spent time catching up and then had an extremely late lunch at a chic and comfortable gastropub, the Inn on the Lake in Godalming, with the sunlight pouring through the windows. The lake itself, however, is lost somewhere in the undergrowth. Very good food: the salmon and caper fishcakes with a poached egg on top were very enjoyable, and the warm, squidgy, almost-molten chocolate brownie was utterly, deliriously delicious. I have a thing for chocolate puddings but this ticked every sensual box in ways that were positively indecent! We were also impressed with our Slovak waiter’s excellent English and attention to us. A TGirl admirer in the making! (Actually, I hope not)

Next week I hope to drop in on Charing Cross Hospital where another friend will be having her GRS and seems very excited about it. I’m not sure that kind of drastic surgery is for me, not at present anyway, but hope she will be as happy with the result as our Surrey blonde is with hers. And that this might reassure another friend who’s panicky about hers. If it’s right for you then it really does seem to transform your life for the better.

Sue x

Funny Girls photos

Thought I'd steal my friend's Funny Girls photos and post them here. Here are just a few items from their fabulous 2012 show that I wasn't able to include in my main entry below.

"The Sun has got his hat on". 

Terribly jolly, very cute and rather saucy, too. Must be the British seaside!

 "Welcome to the Sixties". Funny Girls' take on the Hairspray number. Amber, Jade, Krystal, Ruby, with Zoe the DJ and some of the Boys.

 Dancing on the bar top. Absolutely love those coloured stockings!

 The Boys (their names are Mark, Dan, Garry and Jack, though I've no idea who's who here!)

 Grand Finale

Grand Finale

It's worth going to Blackpool purely for this. The show may change part-way through the year, apparently. So you could go twice!

Sue x

Funny Girls

I’ve just spent a weekend away in Blackpool, admittedly in male mode (what? I’m on me ’olidays!)

So we booked to see Funny Girls, the famous drag cabaret. The booking office is part of the act, I reckon, hidden round the back with a daft-as-a-brush old lady manning the desk and a lift that entombs you in the dark and goes nowhere.

It was actually one of my female friends who had suggested it. I thought is would be a good chance to gauge their receptiveness to my telling them about how I spend most of my life these days. I was, however, a bit apprehensive about taking muggles to a drag show.

Still, in for a penny ... or £14.50 for table with waitress service. The compere herself, Zoe, showed us to our table. “Walk this way,” she said as she tottered into the venue. My one male friend rose to the occasion by saying, “I can’t walk that way!” Getting into the spirit from the start! Our pretty waitress in red minidress and fab legs brought us drinks. Stupidly, I forgot to ask her name.

The venue is beautiful. A converted late ’30s art deco cinema by Harry Weedon’s firm that built many such venues for Odeon (bear with me here, I’m from an arts and media family) and a Funny Girls carpet that must have cost a fortune. The bar is in front of the stage and the bartop becomes part of the stage during certain numbers. The tables are raised up at the back with the standing public between the tables and the bar. Zoe has a pulpit left of house.

Zoe, a classically acerbic drag DJ (but never abusive), in a wonderful turquoise dress and matching sparkly heels that one of my female companions really envied, was burbling on and playing records before introducing Amber, Jade, Ruby, Krystal and the Boys. The astonishing opening number was a high-energy Brazilian line up with blue sparkly swimsuits and feather headdresses for the girls. A break for Zoe to regale us, and then an American comedy marching band number; another break and then high-kicking gangsters and flappers; an obscene spoof of the lonely goat song from Sound of Music which we will not describe in detail as this is a family blogging site with blogs about pets and kiddies that are entirely innocent; next, seaside jollity (“Sun has got his hat on!”) with the lads getting their swimsuits off beneath their parasols, much to the delight of my female companions; Oklahoma/Gershwin medley; a ridiculous and hysterically mad take on Happy Feet, complete with penguin costumes. The amazing grand finale including Zoe (she wants you to know she’s in it) started with a pseudo-Sixties tribute (“Welcome to the Sixties” from Hairspray and the Austin Powers theme), the girls fabulous in sparkly red shift dresses. It then went on to powerful fantasy costumes and transformed almost to pure Ziegfeld Follies.

Absolutely stunning! Beautiful costumes, imaginative backdrops, quality choreography and very high production and presentation values. Over three hours of variety entertainment for your money (though the drinks cost a little above average). I think my companions were delighted but bemused. I shall return, properly en femme which will enable me to visit the various recommended venues round about. I didn't bring my camera but someone else did so I may be able to put a picture or two up before long. Here, however, is their official photo of the finale lineup

Here’s the [updated] link https://www.funnygirlsshow.co.uk/

By the way, I recommend Luna Rossa Italian restaurant down the road for a quick, tasty, good value meal beforehand.

As for me, although my two female companions have quite a good inkling about 'unofficial side' of my life from previous conversations, I did not feel my gentle 'coming out' worth pursuing with them further at this stage. This opportunity was ideal for judging what their reactions might be. They'd still be good friends, of course, but at this stage I'd rather have people firmly on board or kept in ignorance if they are a little conservative.

Sue x