Confidence, Part 3

The last two Sun-Dees I wrote about my fabulous visit to my favourite Dangerfield store in downtown Melbourne, interacting with sales angels Kira and Hannah, and buying my first bikini. 

During my visit, Kira shared with me her Instagram ID. Later that day, I sent her the following message:

“Hi, it’s Dee. Thanks for today. Thanks for the confidence. I have an Insta ID but never post, and it would only be boy pictures.

I walked in today and saw you and said to myself I want what you’re wearing.

If I get any chances for pics with the stuff I bought today or the last time, I will send them to you.

Cheers!”

I sent her two pictures of the two of us and later received the following (lovely) response: 

“Thank you so much for these Dee! They are absolutely beautiful and it’s always a pleasure having you in store! CONFIDENCE IS KEY!! You looked absolutely beautiful and confidence is so darn empowering, take care of yourself 🖤🖤”

I messaged back that I hoped I to be in again and that if I did make it to the beach I would send her a picture, smiling and confident. 

Emboldened by my conversations with–and messages from–Kira, my next step was to figure out where to wear my bikini. As my time here down under was coming to a close, I needed a plan of action to make this bucket list item a reality (#13). The beach near our apartment is probably a little too close for comfort (or not), but there are multiple beaches closer to Melbourne to chose from, and they are accessible by public transit. Having done a “test run” wearing my one piece swimsuit, I was confident (that word again) wearing my bikini would be doable–and a lot of fun. I just needed the right day.

Crossdressers tend to be resourceful in trying to get their girl on. I decided I could wear the bikini under another outfit and when I arrived, I could find a place to discreetly remove the outer clothes, put them in the shopping bag I carry (a Dangerfield bag, of course), and hit the beach. My wife had a night out (to play bridge), so I did a concept test by putting on my bikini with my new top and skirt over the bikini. It was almost dusk so I snuck out and went for a thirty minute walk along our local beach. It was extremely windy, but all went OK, so my “test drive” was a success.

Two mornings later my wife was headed into the city with her sisters for a Chanel exhibit at the Melbourne Art Gallery. The weather was suitable for the beach–sunny and high 60’s–if not for actually getting in the water. My wife knew I was going out dressed (I wear boy clothes over my girl clothes when I leave our apartment, and a mask to cover the makeup), so she is a LOT happier when I go out. She also didn’t need our car, so I could drive it to the train station and use it for my final touches. However, she didn’t know I was planning to wear the bikini, because she doesn’t know I bought a bikini (I always assume there are things that she is better off not knowing).

I spent extra time getting ready, shaving everything (and some Nair), painting my fingers and toes, and doing eye makeup. I wasn’t completely hair free–too much effort and too many questions–but I figured no one would be getting close enough to see anyway. Makeup, bikini, girl clothes over, boy clothes over girl clothes, mask on face, wig and purse in bag, and head out to the car. After the short drive to the train station, put on my final touches, head for station.

It’s about a twenty minute train ride to the main station, then exit and climb aboard a tram (Melbourne is known for their tram network). Yes there are people on both, but I don’t care and they don’t say anything (although the helpful staffer at the tram did ask me if I needed help, and I did confirm which tram I wanted, #16 to St. Kilda). It’s about another twenty minutes on the tram, and I depart and head towards the bay.

St. Kilda has a long existing pier that is open, although the building at the end is closed for reconstruction. I walked to the end, took a few pictures, and then returned landward, as it was lunchtime. I went to a nice cafe/restaurant along the Bayside (one I eaten at previously as a boy) and got a table outside but under cover. I ordered my drink of choice lately–a hard cider–and a personal pizza. Both were tasty, and I enjoyed both.

While at the restaurant, I noticed the restrooms were down a hall outside the restaurant–and more fortunate, there was a unisex restroom with a lock, always a welcome sight, especially today when I needed a private place to change. Remove top and skirt, swap sandals for my Red Keds, and don my blue cover, and head to the beach.

I walked for a bit in the cover, noting there were a few brave souls actually in the water. I then decided it was time, removed the cover and my sandals–and I was out in public wearing a bikini. The world did not stop revolving. 

I stuffed the cover and sandals into my Dangerfield bag with all my other stuff and walked to the water’s edge, and went for a slow stroll along the beach, first one way and then back, enjoying my time in the sun. I left the beach for the boardwalk, trying to find a suitable place for some pictures (sand and phones don’t mix together well). Found a spot, not the greatest but it would have to do, and shot away (like all, I delete a lot of pictures).
I finish the photos, return to the same unisex bathroom, put my top and skirt back on, and head to the tram stop. I take a different tram back to the city, which means a bit more walking when I get off, but as I’m walking in a top and a skirt, so do I care? My destination? Dangerfield, of course.

Kira’s there. She’s happy to see me. I regale her with my day. I mention her Instagram feed and how much fun she has (also seeing pictures of her wearing the same corset top I bought brings a smile to my face). I find a few things to try on, and interact with another of the staff and a couple of other customers, including a young guy shopping who tells Kira (I overheard) that he just came out at work (I assume as gay as opposed to TG) and is looking for something to wear to work (Dangerfield has men’s and children’s clothing as well as women’s wear). Kira gives him the same words of encouragement she always gives me. Kira tells us to try things on and then “strut out on the catwalk” so that she can see.

I do as I’m told. A pink and black dress that makes me look like a 1950’s waitress, a black and pink top and skirt combo that looks pretty good too, a goth like black dress and a black formal. Kira likes all of them, and I get compliments from a couple of the other customers too. The last is the jumpsuit, and Kira says that’s the one–and a few minutes and my bank card later, it’s mine.

Time to head home. Get a hug from Kira, promise to try to make it back before I go, and promise to send her the blog links when they’re published.

Confidence is a great thing.