When I first announced I was transitioning, one of the few unabashedly positive responses from a number of friends and relatives was: phew! Now that jane’s a girl, she’ll be so much easier to buy presents for.
Hmmm. Not exactly. I reject the assertion I was all that difficult to buy for before. I liked quirky, books, music, interesting objet’s d’art, art and the like, which I’d have said gives a pretty wide choice of prezzies. And if one individual (step forward my daughter) managed to follow socks with a mug in two years, that says far more about her lack of imagination than any difficulty in finding me gifts.
However, early days, I guess the idea was sound. Jane’s a girl: so anything vaguely femme and pretty would do. I didn’t exactly disprove that assertion either. In clothes shoppign – of which more later – I was happy to raid charity shops from cambridge to london in search of “bargains” – and I was a deal less fussy than I am now.
Scent was good. Make-up good. Jewellery good. And so on.
Fast forward a year and I am now becoming an increasingly fussy girl. In fact, I begin to wonder how anyone ever buys a present for a woman without, perhaps, first administering large doses of some drug designed to get her to confess all and then forget she’s confessed.
Perfume? Yes. I love it. But sweet, flowery, citrus notes. Not too gone on musky. Not a fan of rose. I am amazed that andrea’s first perfume purchase for me was so on the head, because since then I have smelt dozens that really aren’t me. CK? No way? Not a great fan of chanel either – although a sneaking regard for Clarins’ eau dynamisante range.
And so it goes. Jewellery? Silver, please. Bangles, but not chunky. Chains (of the necklace variety!). Blacks and greys and greens. Turquoise. A hint of purple. Retro. All good.
Make-up? Don’t even go there! I know what I like – down to the range and exact hue – and am still spitting at the fact that I have lost my mac foundation either in the car…or out at a certain club in MK.
As for clothes: again, I am evolving my own style. However…
This wasn’t a post about getting prezzies, for all it looks like it. Rather, for the second time in under a month I was out cruising the lingerie departments – and was struck by the sudden appearance of racks of red and black. Knickers, suspenders, and balconettes. Plus the occasional lace garter.
What? Has fashion suddenly taken a turn for the idiotic? Nah. Tis just that Valentine’s Day is coming and of course, this is the next season (after xmas) when the uber-romantic guy gets a sudden urge to head for the knicker store and buy his nearest and dearest some red silk panties.
Like, wow! What a cute idea. I mean: I can think of nothing better than decking myself out like a party cracker and waiting to be pulled. Not!
(was I ever that gauche as a bloke? I hope not: silk pajamas I confess to…but I don’t think I ever descended to the worst excesses)
Here’s a few of my fave sexy underwear places: agent provocateur, figleaves, playful promises, even, occasionally, la senza. Check them out? Notice anything? Like, apart from the fact that I get insanely jealous over the fact that I will never have a figure even close to the most oversize of the models featured?
Yes: it’s the fact that these clothes are stylish, comfortable, interesting, colourful and, in almost all cases, not black and red.
I guess its hard, given my starting position.
I know what I like and in many areas now, there is no point anyone else trying to buy me something “feminine” because that is just the beginning. I take it for granted that what I wear will be feminine. After that, its about finding the colour, cut, material, style and just general look that I am after.
And I’ll say this for free. It ain’t black and red and lace!