It has been a busy weekend for me. I am trying to build up my femme wardrobe and I've been shopping.
I have bought a gorgeous pencil skirt and it fits like a dream. I love the way that it constricts your legs so that you need to take smaller steps and you can't stride confidently like a man. I picked up a cute little blouse to go with it.
I also have another blouse - white with lace detail - coming (off ebay).
Today, I had delivered a 1950's style blue with polka-dot dress and my very first ever petticoat (blue). I have never worn petticoats so it will be a whole new experience for me.
For little girl mode, which is my favourite, I went mad and ordered two pairs of exquisite knickers, some frilled ankle socks and another pair of mary-janes. I also have a lovely dress (pink and very girly) on its way.
The desire to dress as a little girl is just there. I know it's really weird and if people knew about it they would probably call me sick, twisted and perverted. I can't explain it. The very frilly knickers, the short dress exposing the very frilly knickers, the frilly ankle socks and the shiny mary-janes just make me go all gooey and girly and giggly. There is a charming innocence about being a little girl.
I think it all stems from my childhood. My younger sister got all of the affection and attention as a little girl. As the "boy", I got rather less. I envied my sister her freedom to wear such lovely clothes and being the centre of attention. I wanted to be the girl, to dress up like a little girl, and be loved as a little girl. And I still do 40 odd years later.
Does this make me sick, twisted and perverted? I really hope not.