I don’t know about you, but when I was growing up I tended to overdose on good things. Too many sweets, too many crisps, too much video games, I’d embrace and exceed, in an hedonistic way, all of things that sparked off my pleasure centres. It’s fun to do (if you don’t mind the dental work caused by too much sugar, or the impending diabetes) but as we get older we tend to limit the excesses like properly trained little drones, carefully and guiltily parcelling out small little moments of fun like they are being rationed.
Well, not me. I’m still the emotionally immature idiot who tries something, likes it, then buys a lifetime supply.
To cut a long intro short (too late) I’m talking about the latest (and, I hesitate to say, greatest, no, ultra-mega-super-greatest) sessions with the Goddess known as Cindy at BWBG. Not content with just a three hour session I drained the savings and asked nicely for two *days* worth of sessions, fifteen hours in total with a brief interlude of four hours or so of comatose-style sleeping at a nice hotel (which was superb in that I could get up, shower, shave, buy a Starbucks from the chain next door, walk casually through the bitter winter morning in London, across Tower Bridge and arrive at Cindy’s place within ten minutes, massively different to my usual epic traipses across the tundra to get there).
Fifteen hours. Fifteen glorious Sarah-Cindy hours of dressing up, laughing, posing, photoing.
It’s like opening a beer on a hot day and finding that the can is actually linked to a never-ending pipe. That contains champagne, not beer.
I’d say that I don’t have words to explain how wonderful it was (but I do, check yesterday’s blog and, yes, this mind-splat you are ploughing your way through). In some ways I don’t. It was sublime, exquisite, indescribable in a ‘I’m about to describe it and invalidate that word’ kind of way.
It was Sarah’s coming of age.
We did a huge number of looks, and an even huger amount of photos (almost 20GB, about 3600). I saw versions of Sarah I hadn’t even dreamed about. I saw a convincing side of her, elegantly surfaced by Cindy’s skills.
Hence the florid writing. I’ll stop now and just tell you about the looks, OK? I’m sure you’ll forgive me when you see how (gush gush gush) fun they were….
Actually, allow me a couple of amusing moments before I continue – firstly riding the rush hour Tube train back to Euston, standing crushed against a number of people, possibly still a touch of glitter on my face but *definitely* a touch of red nail varnish on the hand I was using to secure myself against one of the posts on the train. Right next to a young Office woman who definitely saw the little flecks and smiled at me. Secondly a hugely amusing moment when Cindy punched me in the sweetmeats (entirely by accident, she was trying desperately to get some stay-ups to stay-up and her hand, pulling the stubborn stocking up over my muscular (cough) thigh, slipped and thwapped me (good word) in my tucked places. Didn’t feel a thing (I’ve been hit there so many times it’s starting to be a comedy) but her mortified expression and our laughter was worth it.
Quick note for all you people who want to advantage of Cindy’s wonderful service but are firmly in the closet – she is *meticulous* at removing any trace of makeup. I’m just very bad at washing my face and very good at not giving a damn anymore. The above witticism about the tube? All my own fault. Hell, I’m sat here at my work desk 24 hours later idly picking red nail varnish flecks off my fingers…..
So, here’s a quick overview of all the fun Sarah had….
Date Night Sarah
Outfit chosen by Cindy, makeup as always by Cindy, squealing enjoyment by me. This look blew me away, it was so far from what I thought Sarah could look like but so natural it actually made me ache to be her.
Always loved this kind of dress, and we set it off with minimal jewellery, glasses and sensible-ish shoes. The kind of office worker I always find attractive.
Executive Assistant Sarah
Scratch the above comment, this look, which, well, ‘oh My God’, sums up all the powerful and sexy women I’ve worked with, admired, and been genuinely scared of. Loved the feel of the blouse and the leatherette skirt, well, words fail me.
Actually a frock from Marks and Spencers, of all places, inspired by the 1970s. This whole outfit worked a treat and sooo cute to wear and totter around in.
My Favourite ALL-TIME Frock, courtesy of LindyBop
This frock is just a dream. Satin-y material, beautiful colours, high mandarin collar, lovely sleeves. It was just a joy to wear and you can tell from Sarah’s happy face that it was something special.
There’s just something about a femm frock, apron and petticoat that brings out the repressed hausfrau in my fractured personality. And looking this good doesn’t help with the ‘just what gender am I meant to be?’ questions.
Um, err, yes. Kind of a taboo, but Sarah ‘up-the-duff’
I’ve always been kinkily intrigued by what I/Sarah would look like if we were genetically female and sexually promiscuous to the point of accidentally bring a new life into the world. Turns out I look oddly hot. Go figure.
And that was day one…
Day two was as much if not more fun, with the following looks….
The Lady in Red
Excuse the Chris DeBurgh reference please. In my defence I grew up in a time when it was played ALL THE TIME for a long while, so put it down to mental conditioning. Anyway, this was another passing off responsibility to Cindy for the outfit and look and she didn’t fail. This was delicious.
Prim and Proper Sarah, office-frock-fashionista
This was a combination of retro Sarah with the new and improved Sarah created by Cindy on the 16/17th January 2017. Personally, I think she’s hot and as a sharer of her body I’m allowed to say that. I’d do her, is another cruder way of putting it. And accurate.
Alice in Bewilderland
No, that’s not Sarah wearing an accurate Alice in Wonderland costume sucking her thumb. Not at all. Nothing to see her. Move along.
Sarah the 40-quid prostitute
And that’s definitely not Sarah with size F breasts wearing a tarty leopard-print frock that reveals way too much bosom, leopard-print shoes, leopard-print ‘whores-purse’ and forty pounds of punter’s money. Again, nothing to see here, move along before the police arrive.
Sarah in the ‘I loved it so much yesterday I just have to wear it again’ LindyBop frock
It’s my favourite. Don’t pick on me.
Another fantastic LindyBop frock – when you put this one on it stands out as if you are wearing a petticoat underneath. Feels wonderful, a real dancing dress.
The Black Widow
Cue ominous music. This outfit and look was inspired by the concept of the Black Widow, a heartless wife who murders her husband for his money, often to pay off the attractive tennis coach/pool boy/pizza delivery man (I may be straying into bad Porn stories at this point, I’m very tired). Lovely retro frock with a huge polkadot collar, combined with a fascinator, a fan, and a whole lot of attitude. Tonnes of fun to be her.
And that was it. That’s a lot of looks for two days, and I stand in awe of the skill and ability to put up with my madness for two days of the adorably wonderful Cindy at Boys Will Be Girls.
And as the endorphins fade, slightly and sadly, I must away to bed to sleep the sleep of the righteously femm, to awake tomorrow into the cold world of reality, back to the job and the gruff feel of jeans of hoodie, planning the next sessions already because, well, I love Sarah.
Stay beautiful, remember to let yourself have some endorphins now and again when life becomes too drab and not full of enough stockings and suspenders.