Having an overnight in London I was looking for a different way to experience being out as a woman other than going back to the lesbian bar or to a shop. I found a classical music event and thought this might be a good place. Obviously safer than a night out in Soho. An arty crowd is probably more LGBT-accepting than the average, although may also be older and possibly not so trans-accepting.
I figured the cheap seats would be music students and the expensive seats the wealthy middle aged, so was probably best to sit near the back. My assumption was correct.
It started quite early, so getting food and getting ready after work was a rush. I didn’t get time to paint my nails and I decided to go without the wig because of the time it would take to brush it out. Not sure if this was a good or bad decision. The long hair does really change my appearance and at a distance reads femme, but close up it is obviously fake.
I wasn’t passing, but then it isn’t really necessary to. If anything the point of the exercise is to be able to be out in the world not passing and cope with it.
The Tube was very busy that time of day, so I certainly got to experience being a “conspicuous tranny” in a crowd. Walking through town, other people only see me momentarily, but sitting on a crowded underground train for a couple of stops, I am fully visible and clockable as a “man in a skirt”, particularly without the long wig to hide in. At least I remembered to cross my legs and try to sit ladylike.
At the venue, I had to queue at the box office to collect my ticket, so more time being visible and not passing. My credit card is of course, in my male name, so I had to ask for ticket for Mister…, whilst standing there wearing red lipstick and with my bra stuffed, trying to look like a Miss. Maybe she thought I was weird, although she didn’t give any indication of having any opinion at all.
I found my seat and settled down for the performance. A woman sat next to me, but didn’t speak, and there was no one on the other side.
I failed to have conversation with anyone at all, I just tried not to be noticeable. I am shy and I probably would not have spoken to anyone had I been there as a “normal man”.
I stayed in my seat for the interval, which was a missed opportunity, as going to get a drink from the bar may have been an opportunity for interaction. In retrospect I should have done that and if I go again, I will make myself.
After the performance, which was incredibly good, I needed the loo before traveling back to the hotel. This was time for a courageous decision. I had tucked and taped before dressing, so urinals were not an option and I had to go seated. The question was whether I would be brave enough to enter the Ladies, or go into the Gents. Having not been to the venue before, I didn’t know the layout. Being at the back of the auditorium I got to the corridor before a queue formed. I passed the Gents and went for it. I was the first to enter the Ladies, so could get to a cubicle unnoticed. Fortunately the cubicles were fully enclosed and with full height doors, so I felt completely safe and arguably even compliant with the EHRC guidance. I hid in the cubicle a little longer than normal, partly because it is a faff dealing with shapewear shorts, two pairs of tights and struggling to popper-up a slightly too short bodysuit. I could still hear voices, and there were a number of women washing their hands. I didn’t make eye contact, washed and dried my hands and left. No one challenged me or commented, maybe nobody noticed me. It was a new experience and a pretty scary challenge, but I survived it.
Going back to the hotel on a late night tube train I was conscious of being a lone woman, which was a different experience to traveling earlier when it was busy. I have traveled on the underground presenting female before, but always on the newer lines where the stations are very open and with clear lines of sight, and the carriages are all connected. This time I was on one of the old lines. The platforms and tunnels are narrow, there are alcoves and side passages and corners in the foot tunnels with no line of sight to who is around the corner. It feels a lot less safe. The carriages are also individual, and although there are doors between them, it’s not really safe to try to move between them. When the train came in, I was aware that one had a lone male, one a small group of men, one a lone woman. I got into the carriage with the woman, because it felt safer. The other woman on the platform did the same. This was probably the first time I became aware that there is a women’s carriage on a late night tube train. When traveling alone presenting male I would always avoid a carriage with a group of men but this was the first time I had observed real gender segregation. Of course women do this for the same reason that I did; they don’t feel safe in an enclosed space with men.
I made it back to the hotel safely anyway, but it had been a mildly unnerving trip.
Another real life experience survived. The absence of interaction was a disappointment, but if I had gone as a man I probably wouldn’t have talked to anyone either, so just a disappointment in my usual social awkwardness. Being in a women-only space was a new experience that went without incident, so that is positive. Even the journey, which was unnerving at times, was eye opening and felt like a real female experience.
So all things considered, a good thing to have done, and the music was amazing.
Comments
Post a Comment