transretrogurl

Firstly, that’s not a real baby. It’s a hyper-realistic training doll I bought a couple of years back for some fun photoshoots, but I chose that picture for the featured image of the blog for a reason – lockdown is way too hard at the moment.

I’ll explain; I was terrified at first about the pandemic, then understanding, then anxious, then bored, then anxious, then, well, that’s pretty much it for the last four months. The world is going down the toilet, we’re going to be stuck in this kind of petrified madness for the near to mid-future and there’s very little good news on the horizon.

So why the new category?

I need fun. Well, I need as much fun as I’m allowed at the moment, which is pretty much me, 16k pictures of Sarah and a desperate imagination, so my life has kind of turned into drab day, drab night and the only bit of spice is going into the archives and seeing just how much fun I have had as Sarah for the last five years. Plus, in all honesty, I feel so numb at the moment I need a rush to remind me I’m alive.

No, don’t worry, this isn’t a cry for help or a dark message of finality; I’m way past the binge/purge cycle of whatever this cross-dressing delight is. But, going to be honest, my mind is going to some pretty fun and mad places in terms of entertaining myself. And that’s not a bad thing; all we have at the moment is fantasies so sod it, as we say on this side of the pond, I’m letting my mind enjoy itself.

Sarah is a construct of my mind. She doesn’t exist, other than when I drag myself into London, if you’ll pardon the pun, and let myself slip into her world. I don’t dress at home, I can’t do makeup, and also, more importantly, the way I have dealt with life for the last 51 years is a sh*t load of shields and masculinity, and my home is, aside from one closet full of frocks, all part of the passion play I have acted for so long it’s solid. I couldn’t dress at home because it just wouldn’t work; it’s why I travel to London. It’s a different world there, and I can play dress up and, on occasion, head out into the outside world.

But reality sucks at the moment, so whenever I can I dream about what delights I could experience as Sarah. And, again, being honest, I find it massively erotic.

It’s a mood thing; as people we are not a single person, out moods make us horny at times, sad, happy, creative, depressed; they are all different facets of who we are, and in this lockdown situation it has become very much focused and very much swinging between moods.

Sometimes I love to think about modelling the clothes I’ve bought. I’ve got a load of new outfits for when the lockdown rises; I found a place that does the best, or worst if you didn’t like it, clothes of the 70s; I have a dress that would have been the height of fashion in 1973, mini skirted, button up the front, huge white colour. I got myself a pair of gogo-boots and a white headband and I may, gasp, go for a light lipstick look for that authentic 1970s chick. I also bought a couple more civil war era dresses and intend to do some more ‘GoodWife Lewis’ looks for a giggle.

But sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly brittle or, again being honest, horny as hell, I imagine throwing myself fully into the female role. This seems to take one of three main fantasies at the moment….

1: Playing the role of the wife

This one keeps jumping into my mind, normally first thing in the morning (along with that odd sensation that only a man knows first thing in the morning). The idea of dressing as a sensible middle-aged wife, past the period of dressing to impress but still stylish, and then completely adopting the role of the wife is just a huge turn on. don’t ask me to explain; it’s one of those dark fetishes, but for some reason it is majorly prevalent at the moment. I imagine finding an older gentleman with an open mind and starting a romantic relationship. Meals out as a couple, letting him order my food and drink with ‘my wife will have…’. Smiling at the waitress when she comments on what a lovely couple we make.

Not entirely sexual; just the adoption of a role that I should never have; and I think that is what makes the fetish so delicious to think about. The scenarios seem endless, having a meal in with his oldest friends and doing the couples thing, two wives, two husbands, talking the quiet nothings that a couple talk about.

It’s not a new fantasy; one late night a couple of years ago I threw together an ‘advert’ that I was never brave enough to post, asking for an older gentleman admirer for a ‘twenty-fifth wedding anniversary’ photoshoot. To be honest just creating the advert was enough to satisfy the urges….

Yeah, if I try and analyse this fantasy there’s a whole pot of questions there, but it’s one of the fantasies my brain goes to all the time at the moment – the idea of wearing a dress and adopting, completely, the role with a gentleman, the counterpoint of male and female, the adoption of the classic female role, it’s intoxicating to think about.

And I think I’d be a pretty damn good wife….

2: The Date

HERE BE DRAGONS. If you don’t have an open mind I think you should skip this one; As a heteroskeptical man for 50 odd years and growing up in a very homophobic time and circumstance drab me has never considered a gay relationship. Sarah confuses that; when I’m dressed, sometimes (not all times) I feel a massive attraction to men. Whether that’s a side-effect of the whole ’embracing the role’, latent homosexuality or something else, who knows. But it is there, and I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge it.

There are some lovely admirers who will talk to Sarah as a woman and that is a lot of fun. And I have contemplated meeting some of them, quite seriously. Of course, Covid changed all that, and now it is just a very nice, and darkly kinky, fantasy.

But, before the lockdown kicked in, I was planning to have a date with a very good and old friend, someone I’ve known for most of my life, and the only person from my drab world, male, who knows about Sarah.

Right when I started really getting into Sarah and the retro scene I was still confused as to what Sarah actually was. I asked my friend to come with me to the Wayout club, with me as Sarah, and he was nice, and brave, enough to do it. But I made a couple of huge mistakes. Firstly, I had promised to stay in character as Sarah for the entire evening, but because I had to drink a lot to even get the courage to be out when I met him outside the club I immediately switched to male mode to meet him. And, although he was the complete gentleman, holding my hand the entire evening so no-one would bother me, talking to other patrons as my ‘man’ and being the perfect companion, because I was drunk I made a pass at him.

It was unfair and completely inappropriate and, bless him, he deflected me gently and we just pretended it didn’t happen. Drab and sober me was mortified; I was 100% convinced I was straight, both of were and are married and if anything had happened it would have been unbelievably awkward after. Or maybe it wouldn’t, and that thought is as kinky as any other.

Anyway, we kept in contact and I spent a lot of time sending my pictures over the years as Sarah evolved. We joked a lot and did a little late night flirting in that fun friendship way. And one night I said I should cook him a meal as Sarah to make it up to him for all the silliness.

And he said yes. So the plan was I would rent an apartment in London, Cindy would do my makeup and look and I’d entertain my friend as Sarah. I promised I’d stay in character the entire time and the whole thing had a fun little feel to it. I spent nearly 300 quid on a dress specifically for the evening and then Covid kicked in.

This would have been huge for me. I’ve spent a lot of time in front of the camera as Sarah, but I have never really spent time with someone else, specifically a man, in Sarah’s mindset.

It probably, almost definitely won’t happen now; the conversations started to be littered with hidden meanings and I found myself flirting in an overly sexual way; no idea where that came from, but he went quiet a while ago and hasn’t responded. I really hope he’s ok; he’s my best friend but this whole lockdown has made people change a bit.

But anyway, it may not happen in reality but boy, the fantasy of it is very interesting. Again, the idea of being a girl for the evening with a red-blooded male is strangely appealing. I’d be lying if I said my mind hadn’t considered, in steamy details, a number of outcomes, most of which would pretty much permanently dispel any thoughts of pure heterosexuality. But again, lockdown fantasies are ramping up because a year of celibacy and house arrest plays merry hell with his and her hormones.

3: Dissociative Lust

Oh, this one is a doozy. And it sums up what is wrong with the mentality around lockdown from my perspective. I’m spending a lot of time looking at the pictures of Sarah and I’m starting to see her as someone else. What I mean by that is this; for a long time I could only see me as a man wearing women’s clothing when I saw the pictures. That was good old fashioned guilt; I know a lot of us have that issue.

But lately I’ve started to not recognise the woman in the pictures, and as such I find it easy to get aroused at the thought of meeting her, dating her, talking to her and, well, being intimate with her. Now, I know that’s not that healthy; it’s not the most destructive of fantasies but there’s something delightfully wrong about imagining oral sex from yourself, albeit an anonymised feminine version of yourself. But I’m finding it very easy to do that at the moment – it could be a defence mechanism but to be honest it’s a lot of fun.

I give the looks back-stories, foibles and personalities. And that’s thrilling in and of itself because I know it’s me, yet, somehow, it isn’t.

It may be keeping me sane. May.

The point is really this; in the absence of friends and lovers our minds have to entertain themselves or we would go nuts. I’m comfortable that all my fantasies are fine and, gasp, healthy. Saying that, lockdown cannot end soon enough as far as I’m concerned.

So, however you are keeping yourself happy, as long as you aren’t actively hurting anyone, is fine. I’m assuming that once life returns to normal my little set of inner-fantasies will return to something less visceral.

Stay beautiful, stay sane and give yourself a break if your thoughts are fantasies are a little more extreme than normal; these are odd times and we are delightfully odd people.