Siobhan and I had talked about doing some kind of joint post on what we got up to at the weekend, but web technology hasn't yet caught up with our brainwave of a collaborative freeform blog-space (AFAIK), so you'll have to put up with this effort instead.
She's already posted a
nice summary of the Reparty weekend, leaving me with the easy job of filling in the gaps.
So take it away Siobhan..
...I was slightly narked that we couldn't check into the hotel for a few hours — only slightly mind, as it gave us the chance to do a bit of shopping. I'm not (you might recall) a great fan of shopping in, um, shops — mainly because of the sheer number of people it involves — but it was worth it, considering I found The Most Cutest Bag In The World, Ever™, a purple furry thing that Jo insisted I had to feed, water and generally look after...
It is very cute. Heaven knows how many Muppets had to die to make it though.
I also had a very successful shopping spree. A lightning visit to Top Shop on Oxford street turned up a really cute skirt. I've been looking to get some Boho bits ever since it came into fashion. The trouble is that long flouncy gypsy skirts aren't really
me. This one's kinda gypsy, glammed up with sequins, grunged about 20% with denim, and most importantly cut off some way above the knee. In short,
very Becky! I got loads of positive comments on it too, which is always nice.
... So, right, we eventually get up to our hotel room, and that's when the Trannie Explosion™ happens. According to Becky's Second Law of Tranny Dynamics: Transvestites expand to occupy any given space, and with fifteen seconds, the room was awash with every single article of clothing and make-up that the pair of us possess...
Yep, I really must formalize that law sometimes. Basically: trannies are like gases, they expand to fill the space available. If Siobhan
was a gas I think she'd probably be... um... a fart, not because of the smell, or because she's unpleasant (she's actually quite fragrant and exceptionally nice), but because if she's present in a room everyone soon knows about it, and no-one ever wants to take responsibility for her. :-D
...I was rather surprised how small the venue was. I've never been out in London before, but I had visions of a much bigger club in my head. I know that Trasnmission is held in a different place and everything, but it was a tiny place. Cool though...
I was quite surprised by it's smallness too, along with a lot of people I spoke to. Although looking back at the information given no-one ever said it was a huge venue. I think the hype surrounding it had made me assume it was a great big place. A nice venue, although I'd maybe have expected something a more than some (admittedly very groovy) visuals and some nibbles on a napkin to justify a door price nearly three times that of Trans-Mission.
But that's not a complaint really, the music was very good, it was in good company, and I felt I got my money's worth. :-)
...I'm rather chuffed that Vicky Valentine gave me the pleasure of my own little Trance Bubble...
Yep, and I've rather chuffed that I got to say "I know the DJ, I'll try to sort you out some trance!"
Okay so maybe Vicky was gonna play a trancy set
anyway, and I probably had no more sway over her than most the people in the room. But the point is that Simon, being a bit geeky and terminally shy, never used to go to clubs and never in a million years would know the DJ well enough to ask for stuff. Becky
1 does, she's connected in the tranny scene, people recognise her and do stuff like come up and ask to have their picture taken with her.
It might be horribly shallow and vain, but occasionally I allow myself to be a little bit smug about that. It's a nice warm feeling, and one that I never got to have as a boy, so I'm
allowed.
Among many other things discussed at the weekend, Siobhan and I had a stab at the perennial tranny topic "what do I get out of it?". I've decided that one of my Things is "being a little bit of a Big Fish
2", and I'm not ashamed of that.
...and I'm sorry if I bumped into anyone on the dance floor, but I was really enjoying myself...
See my "Siobhan as a fart" analogy. We all knew she was there, and I completely and utterly refused to take responsibility for her. :-) You'd have to be blind not to avoid Siobhan in full Trance Bubble flow, anyway.
Things like our taxi driver on the way home waiting until after he got a tip and was just driving off to ask "Are yous wearing panties or boxers?"...
The cool thing about that, for me, was that until that moment I'd been completely non self-conscious about hailing a taxi in the centre of London in the middle of the night, and not even considered that from his point a
view a load of pissed blokes had just piled into a taxi wearing frocks and demanded to be taken to "the Chambermerlernerlain on Minnories pleasemate". I hadn't been worrying about passing, or steeling myself up to brazen out the encounter with the taxi driver, I'd just been being me. And it's not like the driver burst some kind of happy delusion-of-passing bubble that I'd been in,
I'd just not been worrying about it. And it was a funny authentic cheeky London cabbie comment, so we all laughed.
...Today was about two things really: Getting over the hangover, and meeting Miss K.
Who was fab. As cool as I'd imagined...
Agreed.
'Nuff said!
1Sorry for slipping into the third person there. I generally hate it when I hear trannies referring to their girly persona as if they were different individual, saying things like "I decided it was time for Stephanie to go for a walk around town", etc. But sometimes it becomes a necessary evil when comparing what the boy me would do compared to what the same person would do when wearing a skirt. They are, for all intents and purposes, both me, but "Simon" and "Becky" become shorthand for my different aspects.
2Alright, so maybe I am just a Medium Fish, but even medium-sized fish look big in such a small small pond. :-)Labels: transvestism
Or could find middle England rushing out to get 5 inch heels in purple faux snakeskin in droves. Wanna bet?
Still I suppose having a camp tranny stereotype in a film is better than having a psychotic tranny stereotype - e.g. Psycho, Silence of the Lambs, Dressed to Kill (sorry to spoil the ending but it's Michael Caine in a Nurse uniform!)
I hate this film already.
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