'When I put on a dress, I'm still me essentially. But in little ways I'm altered. I flirt differently, dance differently, am generally less aggressive'

You may think I arrived in the world in full makeup and tights, but I didn't – I evolved gradually. The first time I put on a wig, I felt awful. It was to help out a friend making a film about transvestites. It didn't give me a kick; instead, I felt embarrassed and wanted to hide away. But I felt compelled to try it again, this time going to a club dressed as a crazy witch. I felt fantastic, but ashamed. I saw other men who had gone to huge efforts to transform themselves into convincing women and there was me larking about being silly. So from then on I endeavoured to be respectful in my efforts. Now I prefer to wear something sophisticated and subtle.

You tell me that I don't "pass" as a woman, but that is not my concern. When I put on a dress, I'm still me essentially, I just have to hitch up my skirt to ride my bike. But in little ways I'm altered. I flirt differently, dance differently, am generally less aggressive. I feel it's out of my control and it's wonderful just to go along with it.

You assume I have a political stance regarding dressing up, but I just haven't had enough adversity to get my mind boiling. I don't dress up to shock or subvert, but to impress.

Perhaps I repel you? I know I terrify some men. One was literally frothing at the mouth as he tried to spit out the word "faggot"; another threw a bottle of beer at me as I walked down the street. In daylight I cause more of a problem, but when night falls I beguile, intrigue, attract you. And I love it.

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