Girly road trip 4: strange new worlds

Cosplaying as a character you created yourself sounds like it should be easy, but there’s always going to be some major detail that buggers everything up.

A couple of years back I spent an inordinate amount of time doing sketches of a 60’s-style space adventure with cigar-shaped rocket ships and, yes, a space babe and her crew, all in shiny silver space suits. It got to the point where I got heartily sick of drawing buttocks, but damn it, I thought they looked kinda cool (the characters I mean; although the botties weren’t half bad either). Fuck it, I thought, I want to do a photoshoot like this!

I spent a lot of time doodling and sketching retro-futuristic science fiction scenes…

Fortunately, most of the outfit can be bought dirt cheap from Ebay or Amazon with relatively few adjustments. As long as you expect a shiny silver catsuit from China to be completely the wrong size, most of it’s pretty easy to acquire (sometimes from the weirdest places – like a pub in England with a surplus of novelty ketchup bottles…).

The only part which eluded me was the goldfish-bowl space helmet. Actual goldfish bowls were either too small or too heavy, and in either case I didn’t fancy balancing one on my head. Other options were too expensive, and making a custom-fit, lightweight version myself was beyond my skills. So I decided to Photoshop it in, instead (and hope I didn’t take photos on windy days…)

This ray gun is actually a novelty ketchup/mustard bottle I got from Ebay and painted up…

The next issue was finding locations to take all these damn photos. I had ideas – oh, you’d better believe I had ideas! – and ended up with more locations than I could possibly talk about in this blog entry alone (more in future months, I promise). Having already travelled the length of Scotland from the border to John O’Groats, anything was possible. I figured out road routes that would give me as many locations in as few journeys as possible. I scoured Google Earth for places that mixed the familiar with the obscure, and sketched out rough ideas for different shots.

Not all my sketches are that detailed; just enough to give an idea of the kind of shots I’m after… and satellite photos help pick the best locations!

I had a route planned that would start at silly o’clock in the morning, and get me to Aberdeen at sunrise. All I needed to do was keep an eye on the weather and hope the skies wouldn’t sabotage the journey. Weather forecasts are only reliable up to a point, and then you just have to rely on luck, and accept whatever shots you can get.

We went to bed not long after dinner, and woke not long after midnight. Batshit crazy? It meant I could slap on my makeup and the spray-on silver catsuit, and drive to Dundee by 3am. Yes; utterly batshit crazy.

Dundee in the early hours of the morning when nobody is about. Why visit at any other time?

My main interest in Dundee was the recently-opened V&A art gallery on the edge of the river Tay. Happily, being there at 3am meant there was nobody around to ask drunken questions, or dive into the shots, or just spoil things. At that time, the only interest was from the night guard (I swear, I must’ve given a handful of night guards some weird shit to contend with on their CCTV screens over the years…). We wandered around the funky modern architecture as long as our schedule allowed before moving on again…

Why yes, I can tramp over country paths and sand dunes in high-heeled go-go boots.

The next stop was Balmedie beach. I’d been here a few times when I was a kid, so I knew it had vast expanses of sand that could double as a desert planet, grassy dunes, freshwater streams choked with greenery making their way to the beach, and best of all, an epic windfarm which annoys the shit out of Donald Trump.

As we approached Aberdeen I saw a massive bank of cloud hanging over the northern skies, and I had a nasty feeling they’d block out the sunrise. To my immense relief, we got about ten minutes’ sunshine as the sun broke the horizon, and made as much use of it as we could. Sunrise was the only limitation on the schedule; after that we could take our time at the remainder of the locations.

Daviot stone circle is in the middle of nowhere…

The next stop was a stone circle at Daviot, in the middle of… well, nowhere. Grampian region is pretty sparse, and the country roads are choked with roadkill rabbits, like a Beatrix Potter version of Schindler’s List. God, it’s grim.

For the purposes of the photoshoot, I figured the stone circle, surrounded by trees, might give a Stargate-y vibe (in that series, they gave themselves an excuse for why every planet they visited resembled a Canadian forest…). I had a bash at recreating one of my sketches which was easier said than done. First I had to scamper over sharp, loose rocks in high-heeled go go boots, and then try holding that ridiculous pose for ages (taking breaks to see how they looked on the camera, and then going back to readjust).

So yeah, seemingly minor locations can take a while to complete…

Tarlair is an abandoned lido on the edge of nowhere…

The final stop was an abandoned 1930s lido at Tarlair on Grampian’s northern coast. It’s still intact, but clearly it’s been decades since its hey-day. It’s set among cliffs and rock arches that make for an otherworldly appearance.

When we arrived there was a single guy running laps around the area, and doing chin-ups and exercises (I guess there isn’t much else to do first thing on a Sunday morning here). We found it easy to keep him out of the shots, but he was clearly interested in what we were doing and dying to speak to us… but keeping a respectful distance.

There were tons of different shots we could take there (it’s been difficult whittling it down to only the best of the best; the location looks good at any angle), but eventually we realised that it was time to head back south. I changed back into a more ordinary dress and shoes, and when we were about to head off the exercise guy walked by.

“Don’t get many space girls landing in Banff!” he said. He’d been dying to say that for ages, poor sod. I gave him a cheesy grin and pretended to laugh silently because I knew if I said anything my voice would just wreck his whole morning.

We stopped off to tank up the car, and a bunch of retired and well-fed old men were gathered in the petrol station shop to buy their morning papers and catch up on everything that wasn’t happening in the area. Obviously, me walking in with my makeup and retro hair was a sight they don’t get that often, so they all clammed up and stared silently as I paid and left in less than sixty seconds. Was it creepy? Or did they realise I was a guy in a dress? Honestly, I didn’t give a shit what they thought – which is pretty much the only superpower you need to crossdress.

And with that, I had a batch of photos I could photoshop with my space helmet… and maybe add a few details to, like planets and frickin’ laser beams.

You’d better believe there’s more to come! 🙂

Dundee’s newest, and second, attraction…
Purple and green make a weird mix in pre-dawn light…
This wind farm is the future! And it annoys Donald Trump! What’s not to like?
Managed to catch the only 10 minutes of sunshine!
The key to doing this shit is maintaining an “intrepid expression” that mixes a hint of the warning look you give a rambunctious puppy, with the look you have when something you want has just sold out. Or something. There’s a lot you can read into that dead, blank stare.
I don’t like sand. It’s coarse, and rough, and irritating, and it gets everywhere…
Stone circle or stargate? You decide!
Let’s see you try holding this pose…
Sea. This. Rocks.
If you want to pretend to be epic, find an epic location.
Tarlair Lido has seen better days…
Pretending to be epic…
This is how I exercise at the weekend. How about you?

You must be a bit of a Psycho!

I don’t normally write a blog post just to share someone else’s work, but when I find that someone else has already said what I was going to say, and said it better, why the hell wouldn’t I share it?

Originally, I was going to do a run-down of my favourite films about cross-dressing, (I previously did my top 20 songs split into part one and part two), but then I realised how thin the list would be: Some Like It Hot, Tootsie, Ed Wood… eh, and then what? A lot of films are just plain nasty when it comes to trans folk generally, starting with Psycho and its chin-stroking pontificators at the end deciding “well, obviously Norman Bates was batshit – he wore dresses, duh!” (I paraphrase, of course.) Then came the 90s, where it was all about recreating the big reveal of The Crying Game for comedic purposes in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and The Naked Gun 33 1/3, or for salacious purposes in The Jerry Springer Show on TV.

Where did all this come from? Did it have its roots in the sexual morality of the Victorian era? Or could we go back to Shakespeare for an explanation? (After all, boys used to portray female characters in Elizabethan theatre because women weren’t allowed to, which led to a number of plays having fun with gender roles.)

Anyway, as far as modern film is concerned, just as I was doing my initial research I found Lindsay Ellis has just released a thorough, hour-long look into pop culture transphobia (with a pretty comprehensive takedown of JK Rowling’s recent essays and fiction) and there’s no way I could do it better:

*
UPDATE:
Films with crossdressing, a non-definitive list…

The good (Twist recommends!):
Some Like It Hot (1959)
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975),
Tootsie (1982)
Nuns On The Run (1990) – disclaimer: I haven’t seen it since the early 90s…
Ed Wood (1994)
Kinky Boots (2005)

I’ve heard they’re good (but I’ve never seen them and by this point I’m not sure if it’s still worth it):
I Was A Male War Bride (1949)
The Adventures Of Priscilla, Queen Of The Desert (1993)
Mrs Doubtfire (1993) – yes, yes, I know, Robin Williams doing a Scottish accent means I should love it, right?
To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything! Julie Newmar (1995)
The Birdcage (1996)

The bad (these aren’t great from any kind of trans perspective, even if they have other qualities):
Psycho (1960)
Silence Of The Lambs (1991)
Ace Ventura: Pet Detective (1994)
The Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult (1994)

I’m assuming they’re bad (but nothing’s compelled me to find out):
Big Momma’s House (2000)
Sorority Boys (2002)
The Hot Chick (2003)
White Chicks (2004)

Other films of note (crossdressing isn’t a big part of the story, but a character/portrayal or surprise reveal involves crossdressing or body-swapping):
Thunderball (1965) – see here
Back To The Future Part 2 (1989) – Michael J Fox plays Marty’s daughter as well
The Crying Game (1992) – everyone forgets it’s a thriller about the IRA for some reason…
Shallow Grave (1994) – Ewan MacGregor partying in a dress y’all
Austin Powers (1997) – taking after Thunderball!
Con Air (1997)
A Bug’s Life (1998) – Denis Leary as Francis the ladybug? 🙂
Wild Wild West (1999)
It’s a Boy Girl Thing (2006)
Stardust (2007) – Robert DeNiro’s sky captain (even if the crew are less accepting)
Sherlock Homes: A Game Of Shadows (2011) – hey, I didn’t say it had to be *good* crossdressing!
Cloud Atlas (2012) – an interesting case, because it’s about the actors playing recurring personalities in different bodies (age, sex, gender) across different time periods.

Feelin’ hot, hot, hot…

In summer 2019 I had a deep need to dress up and take a bunch of new photos for the first time in far too long. The trouble is, a lot of my older clothes were falling to bits. The four-inch-heeled boots a friend had passed on to me were crumbling away (I think they were old enough to vote by that point…) and I had to get new versions of old outfits.

My attempt at updating my wardrobe ended up looking more like a trip to Torture Garden than being a secret agent…

Those crumbling boots were bloody awkward and I only ever wore them with my old fancy dress catsuit. Time to get new boots! The boots I ended up getting were gloriously cheap PVC with more manageable three inch heels. Trouble is, they were incredibly shiny and didn’t fit the catsuit. So I then got a gloriously cheap PVC catsuit to match them. The end result was like a happy, shiny version of Black Widow.

Nothing phallic about that tank at all. No, sirree.

My search for locations I hadn’t used before took me to the former mining town of Prestonpans where the Prestongrange outdoor museum contains the rusting relics of Scotland’s industrial past. The last time I’d been there it was barren and muddy and looked like the sort of ruins where Wonder Woman fought World War One. It had become quite overgrown and lush in the meantime, as nature slowly reclaimed the area. Some exhibits were so fragile they’d been fenced off, limiting the opportunity for atmospheric photos with a hint of danger to them.

*Heroic music swells* *like my chest*

Fortunately one of my friends is an accomplished photographer, and was able to find good props and figure out the best angles for epic photos. It didn’t matter that it was a fantastically sunny day instead of the usual, moody clouds. We made it work.

It was my first time in far too long wearing something so… attention-grabbing. I’m damn glad I had a photographer with me, or I’d look like some sort of weirdo or pervert with an industrial history fetish. Who else visits the mining museum, you ask? Well: retirees. And elderly dog walkers. I didn’t want them to freak out, so I bade them a cheery ‘good afternoon!’ like nothing was out of the ordinary. Maybe I didn’t speak loudly or clearly enough, because they just stared. Oh well.

Shiny – let’s be bad guys.

The downside of taking photos on the hottest, sunniest day in years, is that it’s not the best weather for wearing PVC. There is no ventilation, and nowhere for all the gallons of sweat to drain away. It looked slick and shiny on the outside, and it felt slick and shiny on the inside. My fake tits went akimbo. The 70% of water that my body usually consists of ended up between my skin and the costume.

But none of that mattered. I’d been watching my diet and exercising more and I finally had a chance to show off. I trusted my photographer to find my best angles. The torrent of sweat that poured out back home when I peeled the damn thing off was worth it!

I was so hungry I started eating my clothes from the other end.

Of course, writing this at the end of 2020 after months of lockdown and comfort eating, I look at these photos and realise I’ve got a bit of an uphill battle to get back into shape. That’s what 2021 will be for!

Girly road trip 2: by Jupiter!

Last year, (which seems about a decade ago already… hell, February seems like a decade ago), when we could still freely travel and generally enjoy ourselves, I took another couple of car-less friends on a road trip; this time we headed to a country park in West Lothian.

Jupiter Artland contains a load of art and sculpture installations on the pathways around a large private house. It’s trippy as hell.

Among the early artworks you encounter is a wood full of creepy girl statues. Each and every one is posed to look distraught or distressed. Naturally, I had to subvert this as much as possible…

Jupiter Artland: creepy girl

I tried laughing therapy with a distraught girl. It didn’t work. (Doesn’t matter – had a good laugh anyway.)

You can pick up a map of the paths, after you pay and get a sticker to reassure people you’ve been past the till. Honestly, it’s more fun exploring and getting that thrill of discovery. The map’s more use for finding out what each exhibit is called (come on, this is art – it’ll mean more to the artists than those looking at it!).

Jupiter Artland: temple

My body is a temple; it’s open on Sundays OH SHIT I DID NOT SAY THAT

The exhibits are varied: a funnel in the ground surrounded by a cage, or a classical looking bust, or a miniature temple can mingle with an empty house with a bare, uneven rock floor, or an outsized rifle leaning against the trees.

Jupiter Artland: triggered

TRIGGER WARNING: You have to cock it before use. (The gun, I mean.)

Eventually you emerge into an open section of sculpted grounds and ponds with swans, where families with kids run about and you can have fun pretending to push your friends into the water. You can make people blink by wearing a short dress and climbing up the sculptured embankments, or by wearing a black heavy metal t-shirt to provide a complete contrast to the scenery. I bloody love going out with my friends. 🙂

Jupiter Artland: reflection

Pause and reflect for a bit?

This is where the driveway from the entrance winds it way through, and by now you’re only halfway through. Jupiter Artland is huge.

There are more forested paths to walk along, with exhibits such as spiderwebs, or a boathouse filled with bottled riverwater from around Scotland, or a pit lined with expensive purple crystals (actually obsidian glass – monitored by CCTV), or an open-air church-kinda-thing (the perfect spot to take romantic pictures of your travelling companions!)…

Jupiter Artland: church

Imagine…

Being in a country park, you can expect a whole load of wildflowers. The best time to go is late spring or summer when everything’s in bloom.

Jupiter Artland: flowers

I colour co-ordinate with nature. Muthafuckaz.

The walkabout finishes next to the main buildings, including a dovecot and a garden house painted the colour of Scotland’s other national drink, Irn Bru.

Jupiter Artland: orange

You have to be very rich to own a mansion you can paint the colour of Irn Bru…

Inside this orange building is another art installation which changes every so often. On a previous visit the floor was filled with stacks of plastic cups arranged to resemble waves or sand dunes or something. On our visit, it was a … bunch of random shit thrown together to look like a tree. I think. Hell, it’s ahhhhhhht, dahlings, and what do I know about that?

Jupiter Artland: art WTF

This is a work of art! And so’s that shit behind me.