transretrogurl

For some unknown reason my workload has gone off the charts. I mean, my drab workload; since I got Covid the last time I’ve felt a bit ‘worn thin’, if that makes any sense. My internal batteries got drained and my alternator is malfunctioning, meaning I feel a little bleh and tired all the time. Not that I’m miserable; I have had some seriously fun times over the last couple of weeks, one of which I am going to go into detail here about.

Pictured – fun times indeed

When I go to Manchester I always stay at the BrewDog hotel; there’s a little rumour I may be, how to put it, a little bit of a raging alcoholic, but that’s not quite true. Even with the happy pills, and the sunny disposition, I find cross-dressing very anxiety inducing, and the easiest way to calm the ‘argh’ nerves inside is a little bit of that internal-organ solvent they call alcohol. Anyway, I normally stay at the Doghouse in Manchester which is amazing, but it is effectively a bed in a bar (any hotel room that has two fridges full of beer is here-after called a pub).

For a laugh I arranged a joint session at the brilliant Wowgals with a good friend at the end of September; I’ll write about that in the next post, but she suggested a hotel *on* Canal St. I looked at it and thought it looked a lot of fun; plus being that close means lots of opportunities to, gasp, go out in public (and lots of fun bars and clubs as well).

Pictured – in public, squeee. Also, I *want* that frock the drag queen has on. A lot.

So, having arranged another earlier in the month session, I decided to try out this hotel – it’s called the Velvet (and it has a bar of the same name for those who know the street). I booked a couple of nights around the first session, pre-booked the car park (which unbeknownst to me, and proving my pigeon-sense that I rave about it getting a bit rusty, is literally 100 metres from Canal St) and merrily told Patti at Wowgals I’d be staying somewhere different (i.e. potentially no hangover on the day of the sesh).

Much to my delight, Patti suggested that rather than slog over to her place (it’s not a slog, but it’s about a mile) she’d be happy to do the shoot in the hotel room. Plus I got a free upgrade to one of their suites, which was very nice.

The intention was to do a ‘stylish’ pregnant shoot with the new prosthetic; I may have talked about this one but wow, it works a charm. It’s a nine-month bulge and works as a latex belt of sorts. It combines as a waist clincher (which is funny because it then gives you a big baby bump) and is large enough to stretch from the undies to the bar, meaning you can do some very nice ‘almost nude’ shots with it.

Pictured – like this one. Arty….

I had another excuse to do a preggers shoot; I’ve been gaining some weight recently, a combination of injury, bad weather and meh-ness meaning my exercise regime has died off a little (I keep saying that but I still do insane things; weekend before last I walked up the Malvern Beacon and then ran all the way down, which played merry hell with my buggered back but felt fantastic), and a little comfort eating/drinking (my hard-core cheese addiction is amusing to watch), so I have a little bit of a belly at the moment.

Doing a preggers shoot allowed me to have fun and not be too self-conscious about the extra baggage.

Anyway, the title of this post – so we did a number of great looks with the bump, an ‘arty’ set of me lounging on the bed in nothing but knickers and a bra, some great shots with one of those ‘maternity shoot’ frocks you can get from Amazon; they are reasonably cheap and a lot of fun, and a gorgeous maternity ‘milk maid’ style dress; being completely ignorant of style I didn’t realise they were an in-thing, so very happy to find that out.

Pictured – Gorgeous pink ‘milk maid’ maternity dress from New Look. Again, squeee

Back to the ‘problem with P’. So, as is my wont, I got some beers in for the session. The Velvet is a great hotel, particularly given its location. And by that I mean it has somewhat (cough) of a gay flare to it. When I checked in I was given a glass of complementary Prosecco, for example. The fridge/mini-bar had a bottle of Kylie Minogue fizz, that kind of stuff.

The room I had was on two floors, the bottom floor a little seating area, bar area and a massive bathroom, and the upstairs a luxurious bed area with its own toilet. I tend to wait for the ‘sun to be above the yard arm’ to crack a beer, and I did that when we started the session.

Patti had arrived with a huge case of goodies, all her tools and some lights. We did the makeup, sorted the hair, and I put on the bump and the undies. And realised I was dying for a piddle.

So, herein lies the (amusing) problem. Women sit to pee; I know, obvious statement and all that. And when I am dressed I want to do things that women do. But I have a little problem in that 55 years of masculine use of the toilet means if I sit down my body goes ‘oooo, poo time!’. Every single time.

Pictured – in other news, painted toenails!

In some ways it is great, I never have a problem with the old bowel movements. But it is annoying when I just want a pee, and I’m fully transformed, to sit down and the entire engine goes into production mode. So, I always stand-up to pee.

It’s not a masculine thing, it’s just a well trained digestive system getting in the way.

The thing is this. When you have a nine-month bulge in front of you the ability to see, and hence aim, is severely diminished. So I’m stood in the pristine toilet with a look of consternation on my face playing the sound game.

Pictured – upcoming blokey moment; when you read it remember he is she above.

If you’re a bloke you must have played the sound game at some point. It’s 2:00am, you don’t want to turn the light on to avoid disturbing whoever you share your space with, so it’s a case of aim the hose and wait for the tinkle noise.

I didn’t hear the tinkle noise. The irony of not being able to sit down for a pee as a pregnant woman was delicious and a little, shall we say, messy. Cue me getting down, carefully, on my hands and knees and cleaning up.

Yeah, first world problem, I know, but they are often the funniest.

We did a whole day of pregnancy pictures, including that wonderful maternity frock I mentioned (New Look do the best maternity wear). After we’d finished the shoot I gently took off the bulge (let’s just say it was snug and parts of it had become parts of me; disentangling them was entertaining), and noticed that even without the bulge the pink frock was gorgeous, so we went out on the street and took some pictures.

Pictured – love this image for so many reason…..

The wind was blowing and it was a delightful moment; the feel of a dress gently wrapping around your legs as you brush you hair off of your lashes is a sensation that makes me warm just thinking about it.

So, I would highly recommend using the Velvet. The bar is fun, although they didn’t have any IPA (sitting in a glorious peplum frock in the evening sipping prosecco was fun though), the people are nice and wow, the location is incredible.

Next time I’ll talk about the joint session and how it is not a good idea to start drinking at 10:00am, finish at 4:00am with the minimal of solid food. In a ‘topple over on the dancefloor’ way…..

Stay beautiful and try something different. You know you’ll love it.

Pictured – I am in *love* with this frock at the moment. It’s a peplum, puff sleeve frock, again from New Look, and it just feels so nice on. It’s one of those that is so hard to take off. Not literally, but psychologically ….