14-11-2011, 06:30 PM
Beverley,
I could write a book in response to this post of yours!
I fully understand what you said about the clothes being merely a means to an end and I felt the same. OTOH, although there are certainly the exhibitionist drag queens I was perhaps lucky in meeting a crowd of TV's who were not in that mould and who generally recognised their own limitations and shortcomings. Sure we went out as a group occasionally but only to an 'event' of some kind and not to show off in public.
One of the most unfortunate occurances I ever saw was to a friend in that group. She was probably mid 60's at the time (about 25-30years ago) and to be honest did look like Mrs Doubtfire on a bad day! However, about half a dozen of us had been to Madame Jo-Jo's ( which for those who don't know is a Drag Cabaret Bar in London's Soho district) and after the show we were walking back to the car park when a group of lads came racing past us and grabbed her wig, ran down the street and just threw it up in the air and ran off laughing. Poor Rita was totally mortified, but it all happened so fast that hardly anyone noticed I think.
On the other hand, at around the same time I was pretty passable myself and used to go out to just blend with the crowd. One occasion that I shall never forget and it always brings a smile of pleasure was when I was staying at a B&B in Blackpool, run by a couple of gay guys, who were quite happy for me to come and go 'dressed'. I stayed there regularly every week for about 6 or 8 weeks and always either arrived or departed en femme. The normal breakfast time was from 8-00, but they used to do mine at about 7-30, because I had to make an early start, and it got to be routine so I didn't actually book, it just happened. One day I got up, did the routine, and wandered down in the empty dining room as usual...to find it crammed with people, and one empty table right in the middle of the room! One of my hosts promptly appeared and ushered me to the empty table before I could say anything.
It transpired that it was the week of the Labour Party Annual Conference and these were all delegates. The table facing me was occupied by the 'Womens Section' and that was so funny...there were 4 of them, absolute caricatures... a short spiky haired lesbian in dungarees and bovver boots, a very tweedy Miss Marple type slumming it, a big fat 'black mama' type and a down-at-heel east-ender wot new 'er rights...and there was me looking really smart with perfect make up and nice pink suede suit and matching heels and bag!!
Nobody took the slightest notice of me but I hated being trapped in a situation like that even if I was also enjoying every second of it.
I could write a book in response to this post of yours!
I fully understand what you said about the clothes being merely a means to an end and I felt the same. OTOH, although there are certainly the exhibitionist drag queens I was perhaps lucky in meeting a crowd of TV's who were not in that mould and who generally recognised their own limitations and shortcomings. Sure we went out as a group occasionally but only to an 'event' of some kind and not to show off in public.
One of the most unfortunate occurances I ever saw was to a friend in that group. She was probably mid 60's at the time (about 25-30years ago) and to be honest did look like Mrs Doubtfire on a bad day! However, about half a dozen of us had been to Madame Jo-Jo's ( which for those who don't know is a Drag Cabaret Bar in London's Soho district) and after the show we were walking back to the car park when a group of lads came racing past us and grabbed her wig, ran down the street and just threw it up in the air and ran off laughing. Poor Rita was totally mortified, but it all happened so fast that hardly anyone noticed I think.
On the other hand, at around the same time I was pretty passable myself and used to go out to just blend with the crowd. One occasion that I shall never forget and it always brings a smile of pleasure was when I was staying at a B&B in Blackpool, run by a couple of gay guys, who were quite happy for me to come and go 'dressed'. I stayed there regularly every week for about 6 or 8 weeks and always either arrived or departed en femme. The normal breakfast time was from 8-00, but they used to do mine at about 7-30, because I had to make an early start, and it got to be routine so I didn't actually book, it just happened. One day I got up, did the routine, and wandered down in the empty dining room as usual...to find it crammed with people, and one empty table right in the middle of the room! One of my hosts promptly appeared and ushered me to the empty table before I could say anything.
It transpired that it was the week of the Labour Party Annual Conference and these were all delegates. The table facing me was occupied by the 'Womens Section' and that was so funny...there were 4 of them, absolute caricatures... a short spiky haired lesbian in dungarees and bovver boots, a very tweedy Miss Marple type slumming it, a big fat 'black mama' type and a down-at-heel east-ender wot new 'er rights...and there was me looking really smart with perfect make up and nice pink suede suit and matching heels and bag!!
Nobody took the slightest notice of me but I hated being trapped in a situation like that even if I was also enjoying every second of it.