Drag Race 2010

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"The Great Drag Race is a spectacular and outrageous annual fundraising event. Working in partnership with social enterprise The X Foundation, we’re aiming to drag the issue of prostate cancer into the spotlight – and what could be more eye-catching than hundreds of blokes of all shapes, ages and sizes running 10.2km in frocks and wigs? That’s one long stockinged stride for each of the 10,200 men lost to the disease last year."   

I heard about this charitable event from a Tweet by Stephen Fry. I instantly thought it would be a good chance to dress up in public - safe and with a credible cover story

In the run up to the event I tried out a number of outfits (left & right), the range of outfits then were rather limited, just a few skirts and dresses I'd recently bought from Asda - obviously I was keen to look good, and to to really take up the opportunity to wear something nice out in public.

I initially preferred to go the separates route. My green LTS skirt (top left) is an old favourite, and i do love a plain black straight skirt with tights and heels. But in the end I I thought they were too dull.

The tea dress (above, left) was too tight and showed up how fat I was - if I wore that I wouldn't be able to sit down, plus for some reason all my pictures of me in it were out of focus! Above, right, my lovely long LTS gypsy style tiered skirt - which was a real close second at one point, I still really want to wear it out at some point. Left - a very short dress, nice, but a bit too short. Right - all black, boring....

The blue top (left) wasn't right for me - and it went with nothing, and the pink dress (right) was see through and a bit cheap looking.

Finally, after a few false starts I settled on a black gypsy style dress....here's me as Steve trying it out for the first time...

It took a little trial and error to work out what i was going to wear out the front door on the day - i was tempted by fishnet tights, and my high heeled court shoes. I needed to cover myself up a bit so i went for my yellow trench coat, and settled on the lacey tights. 

And I thought shades would help too. i was right...


And this is what i finally settled upon - including the trainers for running in...it just needed a wig!

I had a rather convincing bosom, provided by a yellow bra and padded inserts!

the final outfit, without the wig

I set out early after getting ready in the bathroom without alerting my flatmate, creeping out into the streets in my knee high boots and black dress, and strode out towards Welling station. It didn't feel as strange as i thought it might, i guess I've been out in drag a few times already, just not often in broad daylight.
A couple of children gave me a funny look as I passed them, but I don't think they were certain about me. My dress blew around my legs as I kept walking, it was quite a breezy day - moving quite fast - into Welling. It could only get more hectic as i kept walking - there was no way I was going to bottle it!
I just kept looking forward, or down, and avoided eye contact if at all possible. Crossed the busy main road, under the railway brudge and along the final stretch to the station. I passed a number of people who did not seem to even notice me. My confidence building all the way.
Then I had to buy a ticket, cash card in my coat pocket ready, I felt a little vulnerable as I worked the touch sensitive screen to buy my ticket. Then into the station and up over the bridge, clip clopping of my heels and my skirt rode up my stockinged legs - I had to push the skirt back down from time to time and adjust the dress occasionally so it hung as it should; there was just a small patch of lace tights in view between the hem of my dress and the top of my boots.

relaxing in the park

I picked out a spot on the platofrm where I could hang back a little and hide a bit. I stoood there, skirt billowing, waiting for a train, hands in pocket, checking side to side for anyone paying attention to me. it appeared no-one was particularly bothered.
Then a train came and I pressed the button and stepped up into the train, more careful than usual not to slip, with high heels on. i picked a seat without a table and at the end of a carriage. there weren't many people on board and i squeezed in to the window seat, smoothed my skirt as I sat, arranging my dress afterwards so that it reached my knees, put my rucksack on my lap and got out a book. I thought I could hide my face in a book so no-one would see me. No-one paid any attention to me! The train filled up on the way but no-one sat next to me, and noone seemed to notice me. I got up and off at London Bridge, clip clopped down the platform. Watching, warily for any adverse reaction. None.
Down the ramp, through the gates and out to Tooley Street. it was extremely busy now. A dwarf with a megaphone outed me as i passed him; i smiled but kept moving. He was something to do with the London Dungeon and I didn't to get sucked in to that lot! Across London Bridge it was extrmely windy. I was at once concerend about my skirt blowing up and my wig blowing off. I had to hld my hair with one hand and my dress down with the other. A group of girls rumbled me and shrieked, think a few people read me as they got close, but it wasn't the best of situations. There were a lot of tourists and while I had been studiously ignored all the way from Welling, tourists were not nearly as cool, so I got a few comments. Once over the bridge the wind dropped and i could carry on as normal...and away from the tourists.

girl about town

Occasionally I had to adjust by breasts, and pull the dress bodice down a bit - underwired bra, I'd never worn one for more than about an hour before, but I soon got used to it. I kept checking my reflection in windows when i got a chance, not quite believing that i was here in the middle of London in a dress and heels, and coping!
I walked up towards Bank station; I was going to go all the way to Liverpool Street but I bottled, I'd reached my limit, and went into the tube station instead. Wondering if my Oyster card would give my gender away, I passed through the gates and down the escalator, in a mass of people. I thought I'd be safer on tube, everybody ignores everybody else on the tube. I was right.
There weren't too many people on the platform though and no-one stood near me, I think a girl saw me and decided not to come too near! On the train I stood. i didn't want to go through the whole rigmarole of sitting down and sitting awkwardly while people eyed me. it just felt better to be standing. This is where I got hot, my eyes got sore with sweat, i imagined make up running down my face, and sweat running down my legs. it wasn't that bad. when I finally got a look at myself I was fine.
I arrived at Liverpool Street and walked up through the levels, trying to get a good rhythm in my walk as walking in heels could have been quite awkward for me. My skirt was swinging rather nicely too, as I clipped clopped into Liverpool Street concourse. A woman walked into me and apologised, I smiled, she smiled back. i was walking around busy Liverpool street trying to find my train, bought a ticket, wandered off down the platform to my train. I got on a carriage with a small group of older people and walked past them to take my seat. again, smoothed the back of my skirt as I sat, adjusted the skirt over my legs and sat with my hands in my lap, fingers fiddling with my hem as i waited for the train to move, a pair of lacey knees sticking out the front, i sat firmly upright with my back to the rest of the carriage and hoped to god no-one came to sit next to me. I could see my reflection in the window opposite and enjoyed looking at it during the short journey.

there was a lot of pink

All felt fine, if a little stressful. When it came to get off I stood up, adjusted myself quickly and wandered past the group of old people. They didn't even break in their conversation or look up - I don't think they even read me at all. Off the train and onto relatively deserted Hackney streets. Now I was slightly nervous. I walked slowly and carefully towards London Fields, using the map, and hoping no-one offered to help me. No-one did and I found the park. Saw the GDR people arriving from getting dressed and made up in the pub. I kept my distance, I was very early, and sat on a park bench and watched the world go by. At one point two park employees stood right next to each other and yapped while i thought, go away, please go away. I kept my shades on, read the event literature and crossed my legs, like a woman, and put one hand on my skirt to keep it down, while using the other to hold my papers.

it rained

It was fun sitting there in my dress and wig, appearing to all the world to be a young, smart woman - as long as you didn't look too closely!
Eventually I wandered over to where the event was occuring and introduced myself. I was now safe. I'd made it. Only problem, I'd forgotten to get any cash out. So there followed a walk out onto Hackney high street to find a cash machine. in a way this was the most wonderful part of the day. I waited 15 minutes in a queue for the cash machine, eyeing myself and the people around me in a shop window reflection. Then I walked back.

thought the guy in green looked good

I spent the time before the actual race taking photos and talking to people - picking up many compliments.
I really enjoyed the time wandering about in the dress, showing off my tights. turned out though that I'd turned up far too realistically dressed as most of the blokes turned up in drag queen outfits and often not shaving and wearing trousers under their skirts!

But then - some guys really made an effort - put me to shame!

this guy was wearing his wife's suit

The waiting went on for quite some time, which was OK for a while, after all I got to enjoy my outfit, being out in the world, and talking to numerous people including some of the organisers, many of whom were not in drag, or at least not for long.

The make-up girl at one point offered to sort my make up out until I go close enough for her to see me. she said, "Au naturelle" and then wouldn't touch it, I think she approved. The girls I spoke to all said I had on a lovely outfit, something any girl might wear, but in my mind i thought I'd gone for a bland option, misread the tone of the event, and I should have glammed it up a bit more. I thought I'd pretty much outed myself as a tranny, and it was hard to explain while i was there on my own.

a natural!

Some the blokes, who I am assuming weren't habitual cross dressers like me, did look surprisingly good. It's amazing how well some of the men could wear women's clothes, and begs the question, why don't we all do it a little more often!

preparations

Mind you, many of the men also looked bloody awkward!! It felt like the most natural thing in the world to me once I'd got over the idea that someone might take issue with my mode of dress. It seemed I was completely safe.


The organised entertainment was a bit ropey, and I started to hit the bottle through boredom, especially as rain and changeable weather was starting to make things a little uncomfortable, It wasn't possible to sit down after a short downpour as all the chairs were wet. I never knew whether to put my coat on or take it off. It was technically part of my outfit, but also, kept me warm when the sun wasn't out. Other men seemed to be happier with their normal coats on over their dresses, not me, I wanted the full on authentic look!

The running wasn't really pleasant. I got quite a lot of support and encouragement on the way, from one girl in particular! she was a volunteer, and I must admit I developed a bit of a crush for her during the afternoon.


During the run there was a small group of Hackney "home boys" giving it the large  - calling us all sorts of names and getting themselves thoroughly worked up, I'd say in to a violent state. almost as if they might have had gender issues themselves. I was certain they were intending to attack someone. Fortunately the organisers had laid on security for just such an event and eventually these guys were told in no uncertain terms to go away and not come back.

Yeah I struggled on the run, gave up on the wig and went back to my own hair, and one woman thought I'd switched wigs!

After the run I got quite quite drunk, but decided to stay dressed as long as possible. there were rumours of the pub. I had an inclination to stay dressed for the pub, but worried this was taking it too far. I needn't have worried and now regret changing just before the pub. It was a great after event drink up, I probably slightly outstayed my welcome in the pub, amongts a group of volunteers and their friends - all women! But I enjoyed myself, and managed to get home in one piece too.

I loved this dress - so envious!

So - I skipped last years' event but now i feel I want to take part in this years' and have another go at running too...see if I can raise some money and choose a more interesting outfit for myself: a colourful dress, an extravagant wig, stockings and suspenders, high heels - much more in the spirit of Drag !! Certainly will go a bit more overboard with the make-up!!

This is what it takes to become a woman?