A Frock’s Tale (1) -Francine

So, I started this blog to talk about fashion and, err, kind of went off on an interesting tangent and turned it into a cathartic free shrink’s couch. And while those posts are both fun and immensely gratifying, let’s stray back into retro-frock analysis for a bit.

With these blog posts I’m going to pick one of the outfits I’ve worn extensively and explain what my thinking was being them. Why I wore them, where I got them, what it was about the outfit that gave me that warm, girlie thrill.

So, frock-word-porn then…..

Hell Bunny Francine

I have such a soft spot for this dress. It feels satin-y, it has a lovely lace collar, pearl buttons up the front, a flowers and apple print, and it just hugs in all the right places.

I saw it on a website before I had resurrected Sarah and I knew I had to wear it. When I first got back into dressing and did a couple of sessions with the beautiful and talented Alison Dale the Francine frock I bought was the first thing I ever wore.

I was unbelievably nervous in the first session, and still tubby, so the first pictures were very restrained. But still I loved them – I looked so unlike me and so like a middle-aged housewife that it simply clicked. I remember saying to Alison that this was the outfit I would wear all the time if I ever transitioned – it would be my around-the-house frock.

The other thing is that I looked identical to my estranged sister, if she had chosen to wear retro fashions, and I found myself having that deliciously odd moment of looking into the mirror and seeing literally someone else, a different gender. I think I may even have had a little cry.

This is my favourite picture from the first session. I think she’s cute.


I loved the frock so much that next time I went, when we tried some different looks, I wore my Francine frock again. This time with a blonde look – again, I was out of shape and still a little stunned by the whole ‘complete transformation’ thing, but I loved wearing the dress. It has a feel that is indescribable to wear.

Here’s how I looked as a blonde wearing my favourite dress:


You’ll notice we added a petticoat this time, and it was perfect. Walking around was a joy, plus the white stilettos made her seem a little bit of a tramp.

I left the frock at Alison’s, which is a habit of mine, and had a cooling off period from Sarah. During this time I took up exercising, stopped eating red meat, all the midlife crisis crap that makes me sound like a born-again vegan (I’m not, too many years of meat have made me an eternal carnivore).

When I decided to try dressing again Alison had stopped and I had seen some stunning pictures from Boys will be Girls, so it was with a certain degree of trepidation that I booked a session with the sublime and ultra talented Cindy.

And I bought another Francine, this time a couple of sizes smaller and green rather than blue. I wasn’t expecting too much of a transformation, just the MILF look again.

Boy, I was wrong. Cindy’s skills with make-up are almost unbelievable, and her ideas and choices around hair styles, accessories and posing are wonderful.

When I stepped gently into the dress, wearing red heels before I put it on, and felt the satin as it rode up my legs and over my shoulders, with that delightful moment when the zip is pulled up to the top and the frock settles tightly around the places where it is meant to be tight, and flows out in others, I had a rush like nothing I’d known before. For an instant I thought I would either faint or was having a bleeding (sic) stroke, but it faded and I looked at myself in the mirror.

I was utterly stunned. I looked exactly how I imagined my perfect girlfriend would look. I literally had to catch myself before I sobbed out loud.


I looked like a modern day Snow White. Cue thirty or so minutes of posing. During this time I started to get the effect I’d had as a child cross-dressing – after a while the dress felt right, felt like me, and Sarah was in the room.


About a month or so after I was surfing the web, like you do, looking for frocks that took my fancy, and I found a blog-site from a retro-obsessed girl. She did a whole post on her ‘new Francine frock’ with lots of pictures and copious gushing.

And it struck me in a delicious way that I empathised with everything she said. Yes, the Francine frock was a delight to wear, the way it shimmied around your hips as you strolled about in heels. The way it hugged my bosom, the way the sleeves accentuated the arms. It was a lovely moment – she was writing about her experiences with a retro-frock and not only could I understand what she was writing, I also had the same experiences with my Francine frock.

Yeah, it was at that point that it occurred to me that maybe I should hand in my man-card.

And I had my first woman-thought. I looked slimmer than she did. Hellfire, that was the moment when I realised I was at best gender-fluid on the inside, at worst absolutely a woman, critical of another girl in a competitive way.

Yeah, it felt good to bitch.

Anyway, if you are into retro-frocks you need a Francine. It’s wonderfully domesticated and an absolute joy to wear. I’ve been trying to track down a black one – I now have a blue one in my new size. Come on Hell Bunny, more frocks like the Francine please…

Stay beautiful and not too bitchy you wonderful people.


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