Musings of a Singaporean Transgender: 2023

(Transplanting hair follicles just like planting seedings)

For those who have met me after following my social media accounts, my male self can be quite jarring. I look quite the Singaporean uncle and very different from Isabelle, with one of the biggest difference being my receded hairline. I have tried to chalk my receded hairline to being a middle-aged guy problem and ignored it for a long time, but recently the hair loss got the better of me. Looking in the mirror and seeing the bare skin where hair should have been made me increasingly uncomfortable. I decided that it was necessary to address the problem ASAP, since losing more hair would mean potentially more money to restore it, assuming I hadn't crossed the point of no return. Topical minoxidil was tried in the past with little success, so the next solution was to take Finesteride pills daily to retain the hair I had remaining and go for hair transplant surgery to fill out the bald spots.

For those considering doing the same thing, I would suggest you do your research before spending money on it. This video from a food blogger and an actual hair surgeon's reaction video to it are an entertaining way to start. One thing to know prior to considering hair transplant; you have to be ok with taking pills for life, specifically Finesteride (1mg/day) and/or Minoxidil (1mg/day). Otherwise, the transplanted hair will continue to be there, but your hairline will continue to recede, resulting in a very strange look worse off than before.

Looking Around for Options

I started off exploring my options for doing hair transplant locally, since it would be the most convenient (and supposedly safest) option. There are many hair transplant clinics in Singapore but a quick google showed that they generally charged the same steep price of $5 per graft, with the highest going up to $7 per graft. I picked a clinic that seemed ok and went for a consult (had to pay $90 for it, which was understandable but annoying). For my situation where the hair loss at the front had progressed a fair bit, the doctor estimated that I needed at least 3000 grafts, meaning a whopping $15,000 at least. The final quote was $18,500 after adding in other charges.

While I went into the consultation expecting a high number of grafts, the very steep price got me to seriously consider doing hair transplant in other countries instead. Two popular and budget friendly destinations known for hair transplant are Thailand and Turkey. Since Thailand (Bangkok) was just a 2+ hour flight away, it was the natural choice. A quick google of prices suggested that this option would cost me between $5k - $10k, significantly more palatable than doing it locally.

After doing a bit of research and deciding on a clinic, I did a virtual consultation with the doctor, who assessed my situation, estimated the grafts needed and did a run through of some of the important things I needed to consider. The Thai doctor was fluent in English so there was no communication problem at all. The best part? No consultation fee. I paid a 20% deposit to secure the nearest appointment date 2 months away (goes to show how popular hair transplant is), and waited in anticipation for my trip.

Strangely, going on this trip did stir up a bit of guilt/shame, like I was doing some 亏心事, so much so that I didn't tell anyone about it except the wife. I was leaving my wife to handle my kid alone for 6 days just to do this optional procedure to satisfy my superficial wants, and my discomfort with the receding hairline was driven primarily by my dysphoria. But I had to tell my parents eventually since I was living with them...which I did I, one day before the flight 😅. My Dad was a bit quiet but just said "Do lor.". His younger colleague did it and was very happy with the results. My Mum however was being the typical Christian Asian parent and went: "HUH? Why? Did you do your due diligence? Why Bangkok, not Singapore? Is it safe? Is the clinic sanitary? Why is my son suddenly doing aesthetic procedures? Do you need to take medication for hair? Pls give me some info ok? I will pray for you.".

The Hair Transplant

My hair transplant surgery was scheduled 1 day after arriving in Bangkok. I went to the clinic at 11am, filled in some forms, did a finger pin-prick test to confirm that I was HIV-negative, before I was led to a small room to lock up my belongings and change into a patient's robe. A clinic staff then led me into another room where photos of how I looked was taken from multiple angles (front, top, 45deg, side, back). I returned to this room multiple times for phototaking later on; before shaving, after marking of areas to be transplanted, after shaving, immediately after transplant, and 1 day after transplant.

Before the surgery, there was a consult with the doctor who had a close-up look of my hair density and quality, discussed about my intended look, and marked out the areas to be transplanted, making minor adjustments based on my feedback. Once the transplant area was confirmed, an accurate estimate of the number of grafts was made, so as to confirm the final price of the surgery. The doctor then ran through a standard slideshow with photos of how the transplants would look, risks of surgery, downtime and post-surgery things to note. I agreed to go ahead with the hair transplant based on the drawn area and paid the clinic the remaining 80% payment for the surgery.

(Transplant area drawn with blue marker. The wavy parts are to create a more irregular look)

For ease of harvesting, the donor area at the back of my head had to be shaven. The shaving was slightly traumatic, bringing me back to day 1 of enlistment into the army as a recruit, because the staff took a shaver to my head and went Brrrrr 😫 I didn't like such close shaves.

It was finally time for the surgery. I lay down on the surgery bed and the assistants covered me with blankets as it was very cold. There were essentially 3 stages for hair transplant surgery; creation of recipient sites, harvesting of grafts, and planting of grafts. Multiple injections of local anesthetic were used to numb the donor and transplant areas. This was the only part of the entire surgery that hurt, but man were there a lot of injections.

Stage 1 - Recipient site creation. The doctor used a tool to punch evenly spread out holes where the donor hair follicles would later be inserted. While I could feel the pressure on my scalp, because of the anesthetic the process was rather relaxing and I nearly fell asleep in the first hour

Stage 2 - Harvesting. I flipped over and lay with my head faced down in one of those circular cushions used in massage parlours, and the doctor began harvesting hair follicles from the back of my head. A harvesting machine that sounded awfully like a drill was used to harvest the entire hair from the root. The individual hair follicles were then checked under a microscope by clinic staff and sorted based on whether they had 1, 2 or 3 hair strands in the follicle.

Stage 3 - Transplanting. The sorting of hair strands were done because those with 1 hair were transplanted in the first rows of my new hairline, followed by those with 2 and then 3. This was done so as to create the appearance of a graduated hairline, which was supposedly more natural.

The entire hair transplant surgery took 4 hours, from 12.30pm to 4.30pm. Based on the number of grafts needed I expected the surgery to take a lot longer, but with a whole team of nearly 10 people busying away to support the doctor, it was made a lot faster. Hair transplant surgery is a manpower intensive process, as harvesting, sorting and transplanting is done follicle by follicle. Hair follicles also had to be loaded individually into the implant tool (sort of like a pen with a clicker to release the graft), which was done entirely by the support team.

The clinic had bought some food for me to help regain strength after the surgery, but because it wasn't yet dinner time and I was too woozy from the valium and local anesthetic, I brought the noodles back to be consumed at the hotel.

While I didn't feel much pain during the hours after surgery, I had to be extra careful as the first 24 hours were the most critical. Tshirts/Polos were explicitly disallowed by the doctor due to the risk of rubbing out the grafts, so I had to wear button-up shirts. I also had to sleep at an incline and make sure I didn't mess up the transplanted hair, which caused me to wake up every 2 hours as sleeping on my back wasn't my preferred position. Good thing I wasn't under any time pressure the next day, so I took it real easy.

I went back to the clinic the next day where they removed the bandage at the back of my head and did a very gentle wash of my hair. The donor sites stung during the wash, but it wasn't unbearable. I had another follow up one day before leaving bangkok and the doctor said everything was healing up nicely, which was great news.

(Taken on 3rd day after surgery. The scabs are where the grafts were planted)

Returning Home

I returned to work after spending 6 days in Bangkok. While some of my colleagues did comment that I seemed to have a very shorn look, with the back of my head shaved "a bit too straight", that was about the only comment I got which was great. Guys really get away way with looking like crap much more easily than women do.

When I explained that my trip to Bangkok was for a hair transplant, the reaction was surprisingly positive and curious, instead of an "Omg why did you go for that?" response that I had expected. Some of my colleagues were even supportive of taking action to look better.

(Back view. Hairstyle was too straight and shorn to look good. You can see the red spots where hair was harvested)

While I am in a bit of an ugly duckling phase right now, I am pretty happy that the hairline is already looking way better than it once was. It also won't be long before I am allowed to have a haircut. What I am looking forward to however, is after the 4 month mark, when the new grafts have regrown and I'll be looking a lot better. Perhaps over time I could even consider growing it out, to rock the man-bun in regular male mode and finally go out as Isabelle without needing to wear a wig. Just perhaps ☺😁

(Yes, I'm a beardy man almost all of the time, No, I sadly do not have glorious hair like him)

This post is more of a life status update rather than dressing up as Isabelle, but I've been putting out so little content on my blog I'm feeling ashamed from the neglect. I rarely dress up these days because life gets in the way, and with the latest events I find my free time and energy dwindling to a trickle. Such is the life of a working parent in Singapore.

After living in my current place for 5+ years, the wife and I decided that it was time to sell the place. While we do love our 3-room flat, its status as a weekend home after our kid came out made us reconsider our needs. We wanted to move nearer my parents so that we could stop "booking-out" from my parents' home on Fridays to stay at our own place on weekends and "booking-in" on Sundays. The back and forth travelling finally wore us down after years of doing so. With home prices at all time highs, we decided it was an opportune time to cash out and wait for a good unit to be listed on the market. After multiple viewings by prospective buyers over a 4 month period, we finally had an offer and inked the sale.

So I am now in the middle of throwing, sorting and packing my stuff into boxes. And damn, do I have a lot of crap for a 3-room flat. People, stop buying stuff on whim that you don't need. They just take up space and collect dust, only for you to throw it out when you move out of your house. I made a promise to myself that I will keep myself in check, even if I have a bigger space (heck no. ESPECIALLY if I have a bigger space).

I won't be able to dress up as Isabelle until I get my own place, so all her stuff had to be put into cold store once again (the last time was just before my kid was born). Through packing, I realised that I bought way too many things over the years. After picking out 20 outfits to give away, I still had 1 full suitcase and 2 vacuum bags (70cm x 45cm) squeezed to the brim. I'm proud to say that since my last blog post, I've not bought a single item for Isabelle. Let's see how long I can keep that up.

There's a tinge of sadness about moving out from the place I've called home for more than half a decade. After all, it was the warm, cozy abode where we rested and relaxed. We had fantastic, friendly neighbours that made the living environment even better. Home was the safe haven where Isabelle could doll up each time without worry of judgement, which allowed her to gradually blossom. But this is life. We savour moments past, both happy and sad, before moving on to the next phase of life, hoping with a tinge of excitement in our hearts that change would bring us joy and more memories to come.

The short answer is, it depends.

Recent events triggered me to write this post. A close friend of mine in the community went for his first session of couples' counselling as he was facing some marital issues regarding his proclivity to wear women's clothes. While the counsellor did caveat that his (or her) understanding of the situation was limited, my friend's desire to wear women's clothes was described as an "addiction", and it was suggested for him to remove all sources of temptations in the short term while they work out the marital issues. As my friend's wife had also given him an ultimatum regarding his crossdressing, in order to preserve his marriage he decided that drastic measures had to be taken. A full purge was carried out; deletion of all his female alter-ego's social media accounts, giving away his hoard of women's wear built up over the decades, as well as cutting off all contact with friends in the community.

I don't know who the counsellor was nor did I get the full story, but hearing the description above got me incredibly riled up. While I knew my friend was in a difficult situation and had to make tough choices, the callous commentary from the counsellor was setting my friend up for failure. By using the negative term "addiction", it labels the desire to wear women's clothes in a similar way as drug addiction, where the path to recovery is cold turkey. It also gives confirmation from a "professional" to my friend's wife that wearing women's clothes is something to be purged from his life. Even if the counsellor later becomes more learned about gender dysphoria and corrects the advice given, the damage is very likely done. Knowing my friend, he's quite a good way down the transgender spectrum even if he doesn't recognise it or care to admit. While he might be able to keep a lid on his urge to wear women's clothes for 1, 2, or even 5 years, the dam will eventually break and he will put on a dress once again. Should his wife discover it, he would be seen to have "relapsed", and the cycle of shame, guilt, disapproval, sadness, purging and suppressing will happen again.

I was feeling angry for a day, but decided to reassess the event a bit more objectively. Merriam-Webster defines "addiction" as follows.

Addiction: a compulsive, chronic, physiological or psychological need for a habit-forming substance, behavior, or activity having harmful physical, psychological, or social effects and typically causing well-defined symptoms (such as anxiety, irritability, tremors, or nausea) upon withdrawal or abstinence : the state of being addicted

My own desire to dress does appear to fall within the definition above at times. While it has not affected my ability to function normally, nor did it cause harm to my personal being, not letting Isabelle out for extended periods causes me to be increasingly obsessive about creating opportunities to do so. The feelings of withdrawal were more apparent prior to coming out, when opportunities to dress was significantly limited; confined to periods where everyone was overseas. Missing an opportunity meant an agonising wait for weeks or months before the next window opened up. After a dress up session, my desire would be momentarily sated, before the urges gradually creep back again and I pine for the next opportunity.

The desire to dress as a woman is also generally viewed as negative; "Men shouldn't wear women's clothing, it is unnatural / abnormal / perverted / a sin / an embarressment". So when I give in to the urge to do this "negative" activity time again and again, it isn't hard to view it as an addiction. Nobody ever labels a voracious reader as a book-addict, or an avid gardener as a plant-addict. But deny them their books or gardnening for months and they'll start to pine for it with great fervour. The difference is that reading and gardening are "positive" activities that one can do in copious amounts, even encouraged.

It doesn't help that the urge to dress builds in tandem with sexual arousal, and wearing women's clothes is usually an incredible turn on. The result is usually a conflicted, struggling, self-shaming individual. If dressing as a woman is so bad, why does it feel so damn good? If it doesn't hurt anybody and makes me happy, why is it so wrong? How can willpower alone be the dam to hold back the rising water levels of desire?

A common argument is that "These men have a choice. They just chose the easy way out and gave in to their addiction to wear women's clothes.".

But do we really have a choice? Sure, I can choose a shirt over a slinky dress today, tomorrow, weeks and months on end. But deep down, my identity is female and I yearn to be recognised as such. Denying myself the dress is tantamount to denying my identity, which I can do for some time without causing discomfort and pain to my being, but not forever. Most people who do not experience gender dysphoria do not even think about gender; it is a fact that does not need questioning. There is no need to deal with regular thoughts of wanting to look different from their assigned gender at birth. If I could, I would prefer not to have gender dysphoria. It would make life a hella lot more straightforward.

So in my view, a guy's desire to dress as a woman has some hallmarks of what an addiction is. But when viewed through the lens of gender dysphoria, it becomes harder to label it as such. If the need to be female, even momentarily, is as essential as food for survival, then perhaps calling it an "addiction" isn't exactly accurate. Things aren't so black & white.

As for my friend, I hope that in his new phase of life he is able to settle into an equilibrium that he is comfortable with. While I have doubts that his female alter-ego will fade into memory, perhaps she wouldn't torment his waking moments daily.

I wrote about my abject dislike of facial hair previously as it really got in the way of presenting female. Shaving doesn't work for me since the stubble remains very visible under my makeup. My go to method to get a very clean look is to pluck the hairs out one by one using tweezers, but not only is it painful, can only be done if the hairs are long enough, but it also takes a good 1+ hour in front of the mirror. This meant that I had to plan my facial hair growth if I wanted to dress up. Absolutely effin annoying.

I had been considering permanent hair removal but I wasn't too willing to spend the money. It was only this year that my annoyance of facial hair plucking boiled over and I decided to just get it over and done with. After all, what was the point of working so hard if I was just going to hoard money in my bank account.

There are 3 main forms of hair removal out there. Intense pulse light (IPL), laser and electrolysis. In Singapore there is a preference for IPL or laser, as it hits a much larger area within a short span of time. Both technologies are also more effective for chinese who have black hair against fairer skin. Apparently the efficacy of hair removal is reduce for people with fairer hair or darker skin. However, I also read that the effects may not be permanent, especially for facial hair. The thought of spending thousands of dollars, only for the hair to grow back a few years later wasn't appealing. I wanted something permanent. So I decided I had to go for eletrolysis.

Unlike IPL and laser, electrolysis isn't too commonly provided in Singapore and for good reason. Electrolysis targets each hair individually, meaning that it takes significantly longer than the other two technologies. It is done by inserting a hollow probe into the hair follicle, introducing heat to kill the hair follicle, before the hair is then tweezed out. The cycle then repeats for hair in the target area. The time taken to do a full clearance of facial hair depends on how hairy a person is. I heard that HairFreeSG was pretty decent for electrolysis so I decided to do a prelim consult. It was estimated that I would need around 20 to 30 hours to permanently removal all of my facial hair, which translates to an expense of around 2.3k to 3+k. It wasn't cheap, but I really hated my facial hair so I decided to stop being a cheapo and begin my permanent hair removal journey.

The electrolysis session starts of with application of numbing cream on the areas to be treated and having said areas wrapped in cling film (probably to avoid accidentally wiping off the cream). I had to wait around for an hour before the actual electrolysis session. In the well air-conditioned room, I lay on my back while the electrologist with her special magnifying spectacles painstakingly zapped my face hair follicle by hair follicle.

Readers will be wondering, does electrolysis hurt? Well the numbing cream definitely did help make it quite bearable, so for cheeks and chin I'd say it is pretty ok, perhaps 2.5/10? The neck and upper lip area however is another animal. My oh my. I had to grit my teeth through the pain as the electrologist did her work. On the pain scale, 5/10? (Ahah I don't know what this arbitrary scale is. Maybe 10/10 is "Give me an epidural you monster!") I can't say that it is unexpected though. When I dehaired prior to a dress up session, plucking the hairs on my upper lip always hurt a lot more.

While the length of each electrolysis session is up to the individual's pain tolerance, I was recommended to cap it around 1.5 hours, since clearing the entire face at one go might result in a fair bit of swelling that is obvious. However I didn't want to make so many trips to the studio and I wanted a full clearing ASAP, so for my second session I decided to go for two 1.5 hour blocks with a rest period in between for myself. The studio has a team of electrologists so they can take turns if necessary.

For those worried about recovery, at the end of 3 hour session there was some swelling at the treated areas and it definitely looked like I had a strange sunburn on my face and some peeling skin that lasted for 3 days. I was also advised not to shave my face, as my skin was sensitive and razor blades might introduce bacteria that cause infections. So if you're thinking of going for electrolysis as well, do plan a bit if you might get queried on why your face has red patches/slightly swollen. Fortunately for me, only my wife and another friend asked about my patchy face.

At the point of posting this, I've done around 4 hours of electrolysis and yet to do a full clearance 😫 I estimate that I need another 1.5 hours to achieve that, after which the hairs should grow back a bit finer (hopefully some don't grow back at all). I find a massive irony for us guys who like to present female. We've got facial hair on the bottom of our faces which we don't want, but when it comes to wanting to grow a luscious head of hair, it may be impossible due to receding hairlines as we grow older. So we spend money, time and sweat to removing hair from one part of the face and even more money to transplant hair on another. Wanting to present female is bloody darn expensive.

<Update>: As of 1 May 2024, I have gone for around 30+ hours of electrolysis. My facial hairs are finer and the time taken for a full clearance by the electrologist is around 1.5 hours currently. While this is an improvement from before, it is longer than I had hoped for. Unfortunately, permanent hair removal takes time so I just have to keep going for sessions diligently every 2 to 3 weeks. Hopefully 60 hours is enough to finally rid myself of facial hair.

A bit of a disclaimer, if you're reading this post hoping for some shocking revelations that Isabelle is going to reveal about herself, then you're in for a disappointment because there aren't going to be any. What this post aims to do is attempt to lay out my thoughts as I try to uncover the reasons for why I crossdress.

When I first started this blog back in Aug 2020, I wrote about a short post on why I crossdress. I likened it to a hobby that makes me feel beautiful, sexy, desirable, feminine and is a bit of a turn on. I did it because it makes me happy. While all of that still holds true, with multiple experiences of dressing out in public, talking to various people in the community, that short 3 year old post seems a bit dated and overly simplistic on review. It feels timely for a deeper dive into my base motivations for crossdressing.

The easiest reason for why I crossdress is to attribute it to me being transgender. I don't deny that I am somewhere along the spectrum. But is the measure of how transgender a person, the extent to which one feels dislike/discomfort with the genitalia and male gender markers one was born with? By that yard stick I don't think I'm that transgender (if it can even be measured), although it could also be a case of being conditioned to feel ok with my male self over time, after years of suppressing. I've written about my struggles with gender dysphoria, that while I don't actively and continuously hate my male body, there are moments where the wish to have certain female traits rears its head. Like how great it would be if I have a nice pair of breasts that would let me pull of that dress with a plunging neckline. Or more delicate facial features that would let me pass much easily. I do have a great deal of envy for guys who have delicate facial features like those korean boy band singers. They really don't need to do much to be easily perceived as androgynous or female.

I did consider whether I was gender fluid, enjoying flitting between male/female modes and sometimes blurring the two. But I find that my embrace of gender fluidity is binary; there is no in between. I am either decidedly male when in uncle mode, or unquestioningly female (dresses, skirts, stilettos, long hair, makeup, hippads, forms, the full works). My need to crank up my female "traits" to the max is so intense, gender fluid doesn't seem like the correct label.

When I feel the urge to dress, I put on a full face of makeup and spend the day shopping or taking self-portraits. It's fun, but recently I've felt like the whole process was...pointless. For shopping, it felt like aimless wandering, hoping to uncover a special outfit that would make me excited (I'm usually unsuccessful in finding that special outfit). For self-portraits, it is still enjoyable and I like the final product, but after posting it on social media I usually get this weird sense of dissatisfaction. I check my phone repeatedly, feeling momentarily glad with each compliment before emotions crash down into a disappointing feeling of how meaningless it all is. What am I trying to achieve each time I dress up? To have people tell me that I am pretty, in order to validate my desires to be female and be the balm for my crushing insecurities? How many people do I need to tell me that I look good, will I be happy/satisfied? Because it feels like I will never be happy/satisfied. Am I an addict constantly chasing the next high? With so many of my bucket lists checked in the past year, I don't know what else remains. Cosplay and photography are currently a good avenue to direct my energies to sate the desire to be even better, since it is quite technical and my skills are amateurish. But I foresee that this will exhaust in time; and then what?

I've also been wondering whether my recent bouts of pensiveness is due to hitting a perceived "ceiling" in my ability to present as female. While I've never been better at my game, I'm left wondering if this is really the best that I can be? Because I still don't feel I am female enough, or good enough. (I sound like I'm going through a goddamn mid-life crisis). I can pour money and time into levelling up my skills in makeup, learning to style hair, getting the best wigs and even derma procedures to improve my skin. But this "ceiling" feels like it isn't just skill and product related, but physically limited.

This however is quite a scary line of thought. Are my inadequacies and dysphoria nibbling away at my barriers to take the next big leap to break this perceived "ceiling"? Will I be satisfied only when I start taking hormones to make me develop female characteristics like budding breasts and softer skin? Or will crossing that line lead to me wanting to push the envelope even further with facial feminisation surgery to gives me a undeniably female face? Is a full transition the be-all and end-all? Will it be the point where I am truly satisfied?

I don't know. It feels like it is pining for a gadget (or a dream car) so much, and when you finally get it after a long slog there is a momentary sense of euphoria. But this euphoria will pass after a while and the system resets to a new baseline.

Apologies if this post seems to be a bunch of random rambles. I don't think there is a concluding statement to this piece.

The first cosplay event I attended was AFA 2022, which I did so as a bucket list item. Though I felt quite a bit too old to cosplay, I had some fun in that event. A few friends in the crossdressing community were also itching to attend a cosplay event as they have not done it before, so their egging also made me decide that I had to give cosplay another shot. After all, cosplay was also an opportunity to dress up in fancy outfits to take photos, which was totally up my alley.

We decided to attend Cosfest 2023, which was going to be held in Gardens By the Bay (GBB) to coincide with the final week of the Sakura theme. For those who don't know, GBB has fixed themes every year, of which the shortest but most popular one is the Sakura theme. The flower dome will display real Sakura flowers in bloom and the decors will be decidedly Japanese. During the school holiday weekend this year, there was also a Pikachu mascot dance where 3 cotton candy haired Pikachus made a brief appearance.

I always wanted to cosplay as 2B from the game Nier Automata since I felt I could pull the character off and I already have the wig, but it seemed mismatched with GBB's theme which calls for a kimono (I realised post-event that 2B has a kimono outfit, but it's black so once again, not so matching). Two crossdresser friends were keen on going as Raiden from the game Genshin Impact, so after some consideration, I decided to go as Yae Miko! Yes, I'm cosplaying another pink haired fox spirit, but it's a cute look so what the hell.

The real reason that was holding me back from cosplaying as Yae Miko was the price of the outfit. Cosplays outfits are not cheap and perhaps due to their popularity or complicated looks, outfits for Genshin characters are bloody expensive, with the cheapest shops selling them for around $80 and the premium ones going as high as $200! For an outfit I wasn't going to wear very often, the ROI did not make sense. That said, when my female self wants something pretty, she gets something pretty....so I finally decided to buy the Yae Miko costume from a Taobao shop called 1/3 delusion. When it was delivered, I could tell that the material was more premium that your usual Taobao shop. Sadly there were noticeable defects that I would consider to be poor workmanship and unacceptable for such a price. It was still wearable and good enough for photographs and I received the outfit too near the event date so shipping it back for a refund or exchange was out of the question. One thing for sure is that I'm going to milk this cosplay as much as I can.

Yae Miko's makeup was simple enough; pink eyeshadow and blush, a well drawn eyeliner and a light red lipstick. What was challenging was her hair, which required styling the wig with the right amount of kinks, something I've never done before. I wanted to get the character right, so after a few Youtube videos, 2 hours of combing, hairspray and styling, I ended up with a wig that was...passable for a first time attempt. I understood why some cosplayers I follow on Instagram complain about wig styling; it is so time-consuming, yet absolutely essential if you want your character to really look polished and as close to the Anime or Manga.

Cosfest was on a Saturday so I had to dress up and leave the house before 9.30am, which was around the time my kid wakes up. This is so that my kid will not see me dressed as Isabelle and be confused as to why Daddy is dressed like a woman. To meet this hard deadline, I woke up at 5am to prepare, such as moving all my gear to the car, eating a heavy breakfast, showering, make-up and dressing up). Even with the really early morning, I only managed to step out of the house at 9.40am (can you believe it. 4.5 hours just to prepare). Fortunately my kid was still happily sleeping in for the weekend.

I reached GBB at 10am, a good two hours before the event so I was the ONLY cosplayer as far as the eye could see. The morning crowd at GBB were primarily made up of families and I could feel every single eyeball staring at me as I walked from the carpark to the entrance of the flower dome as Yae Miko. If it was my first time crossdressing in public, I'd have died of embarrassment and made a beeline back home. But it wasn't so I just ignored the stares and carried on walking, confident of how I look.

I was already feeling quite warm under the sheltered walkway, so I went directly into the flower dome to enjoy the best thing there; the cool temperate feel from the dome's powerful air-conditioner. Without it, cosplaying would be quite unbearable. The dome was still relatively peaceful and uncrowded in the morning as the travel buses full of tourists had yet to arrive. I brought my tripod along hoping to take some photos by myself, but there were already signs prohibiting the deployment of tripods, so I ended up just walking around the dome and waiting for my friends to arrive.

Two incidents at cosfest made me feel extra validated and really happy. I was sitting under tall trees in the dome to rest my feet when a pair of young cosplayers came up to me. I thought they needed help to take a photo, but it turned out that they wanted a photo with me as they felt my Yae Miko looked good. One of them also complimented my makeup, which made this Yae go "Yay!" inside😏. The second incident was when I walked to meet a friend in the queue to collect cosfest tickets to enter the flower field hall. I caught a glimpse of 3 chinese teenage girls eyeballing me and one of them gushing about the Yae Miko character and my cosplay. My friend was just queued up a few metres behind the group and when I spoke, I also saw the sheer surprise in the ladies' faces that I was actually a guy. Later when we were wandering around the flower dome, the chinese girl who had been gushing about Yae Miko earlier came up to me to tell me how much she loved my cosplay and was really happy to see me again so she could take a photo with me. To be frank I was quite surprised as she was really pretty and would clearly make a much better Yae Miko if she decided to cosplay. But her reaction just meant I was doing something right. It was the best moment of the day and made me really happy. I swear, compliments and validation from cis-women are truly the best. Just keep em' coming.

(Isabelle as Yae Miko under the Tori, almost as though I'm in Japan. Not too shabby for a 1st attempt!)

Yae Miko's outfit is a backless halter top so I did not want to wear a bra as it would show. I was hoping that my adhesive forms would stick to my chest properly through the entire day as they were new and the adhesive was still quite sticky...well unfortunately they did not🙄. When I got too sweaty, the forms would detach and slide down to my waist (held up by the obi), resulting in a very weird look. I ended up visiting the toilet multiple times in the day just to wipe off my chest sweat and to adjust the positioning of the forms. Very annoying and something that needs to be sorted out the next time I cosplay.

(Yae Miko from Genshin Impact. Apparently she's hiao and a tease. Kind of like me😝)

I finally linked up with all the remaining crossdressers around 1pm and we made our way gradually through the dome as a group, dressed as Yae Miko, Raiden, Yelan and Saber. I'd say that for a bunch of guys, we cleaned up and presented as women decently, but walking in a group of 4 attracted a ton of attention. As we strolled down the winding path of the flower dome, we were frequently stopped by random tourists asking for a photo, which we obliged. I was the only one who attended such an event in cosplay previously, so kudos to the rest of the gals for being such great sport and not freaking out when others asked for photos.

We parked ourselves at the junction near the flower field hall and where the main Sakura and Japanese theme displays were at, chatting with each other and taking the occasional photograph. But after a while we noticed that because of our position and how we naturally stood out, we kept getting approached for photos. There was a point when a continuous stream of tourists and locals came up to us to take photographs. Most were really nice about it, appearing genuinely interested and excited to take photos with us. But some were quite rude, snapping photos without asking for permission. I think the worst offender was an auntie tourist from Russia or one of the Baltic States who casually said "Oh these are the ladyboys" to me and a friend, which pissed me off a bit. But by then I was too tired to argue or make a scene, especially with a tourist.

The rest of the day was spent flitting in and out of the flower dome, linking up with other friends to take photos. The crowds started to throng and by 2pm the outside of the flower dome was jam packed with cosplayers, photographers, tourists and regular families, all the way to the ticketing counter. If I had to compare it with AFA 2022, I think Cosfest was worse because of the lack of air-conditioning in the "free" section (i.e. outside the dome).

My friend and I decided it was time to call it quits around 3.30pm because it got stupidly crowded and we were both quite tired from walking around in the humidity. My overly tight wig cap was also giving me a bad headache and I was all ready to ditch the kimono for my regular uncle clothes. I couldn't de-drag at home since my kid was around and my wife had friends over to help with the babysitting, so I drove to GBB's Bayfront plaza carpark to use the handicapped toilet. The carpark was a lot more secluded so I didn't have to worry about hogging the toilet while a wheelchair bound or elderly person was stuck outside waiting for me. Just like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, I quickly transformed back into my male self and headed home to my regular Dad duties.

Some post-cosplay event musings:

1) For 1st time crossdressers, choosing a cosplay event as your 1st time in public is going to be scary AF due to the sheer number of people, but because everyone is dressed up, there's little judgement passed (unlike going to a mall crossdressed) and the shock to your system actually can help you gain confidence very quickly. But you've got to turn up in cosplay.

2) Having a ton of people asking for photos is pretty darn tiring. But compliments from cis-women? Keep them cominggg 🥰

3) I'm at the age where I'm really not interested in merchandise, be it cute anime collectable or art. They're nice but I've zero attachment to anime or manga, so buying convention tickets is quite a waste of money

4) I definitely need to redo my Yae Miko outfit. The photos turned out great, but there's still room for improvement, such as getting the obi to fit properly, getting the forms to stay properly on my chest, making sure the ear attachments can stay on, etc

5) Battery operated fans are a godsend if cosplaying in places with no air-conditioning. Experienced cosplay photographers will carry some of these around to help make the heat more bearable for their models

6) I need to remember to ask others to help me take more photographs and also try to make more friends in the cosplay community. I took a grand total of 27 photos using the DSLR that I was lugging around for 5 hours. Quite a waste

Although Cosfest at GBB was insanely crowded and the humidity was an absolute killer, I had a pretty good time. So I foresee myself turning up in cosplay once again. AFA 2023, I'm coming for you!

Hello fellow sister,

This is a letter to you, especially if you're relatively new to crossdressing or have been in the closet for the longest time.

While our origin stories and the winding routes that we take through life are different, we all share a single commonality; our penchant for wearing women's clothes. It may have started inexplicably when we were 5 years old, or it only started in our 20s as part of a dare. But regardless, the activity of dressing up as a woman brings us great joy.

There is an unparalleled thrill solely reserved for us crossdressers when we unwrap our online purchases, to slide that new little black dress up our body and step into a pair of stilettos. The heart thumping in the ears and the quivering fingers as you feel the rear zip enclose your body in the dress. How is something deemed so wrong by society able to feel so damn right?

We live in a world that isn't fully accepting of our proclivities, but it is slowly changing. For the Singaporean readers, while our country is conservative and generally does not encourage expressions of gender identity beyond the binary, it is a relatively safe place to be if you are a member of the LGBTQ community. Some domestic violence or ostracisation is still present, but we don't need to be worry about having a gun pulled on us if we go out in public. With easy access to information on the internet, each generation is becoming more aware of the gender spectrum and non-binary nature of sexuality; with awareness comes greater ease of acceptance and gradual normalisation. While the reality is that male to female crossdressers and others in the transgender spectrum face the biggest challenge, we are progressing forward, inch by inch.

Take your time to figure our who you truly are, your likes/dislikes, your tastes and desires. You might identify as transgender, femboy, non-binary, sissy, genderfluid, crossdresser or any other labels that society has conjured up over the years. You might be sexually attracted to women, men, both genders and everything in between. Or you could be confused about your inclinations, swinging from one to the next. In your explorations you may realise that your sexual appetite is kinkier and more out of this world than what most folk can imagine in their wildest dreams.

And that's ok.

You might be much taller or larger than most cis-women and extremely self-concious about certain parts of your body that holds you back from going out in public. While being petite and slim does help in being passable, watch a few seasons of RuPaul's drag race and you'll realise that the biggest or buffest guys can slay on the runway. And remember that cis-women also come in all shapes and sizes.

Many of us carry around a mountain load of shame, built up over the years. Shame for seeing a pretty girl and wishing you were her instead of your rougher male self, only to chide yourself for not being a "real man", being weak for giving in to such sinful thoughts. Shame from passer-bys' lingering stares that confirms the niggling thought at the back of your mind; that you aren't passable and people easily recognise you as a guy. Shame for wanting to do what society deems as "depraved". It's very normal to feel that way after years of programming by society to behave a certain way. I'm still working through my shame, so continue to work on yours too.

Remember, this is your life. While we are accountable to the people closest to us and have different responsibilities, this is the only life we have and we have to live it to the fullest (sorry readers who believe in the afterlife or reincarnation). So make plans to be financially secure and enjoy the female side of you, hopefully in public too.

Most importantly, love yourself, always.

We are all cis-men who love to wear women's clothes, and that's ok. After all, women's outfits are f***ing gorgeous and better than boring men's clothes 😆

Yours truly,

Isabelle

Taking photographs of myself as Isabelle has become one of the things I spend a disproportionate amount of time on. I'd say that at least 50% of the time I spent as Isabelle is dressed up at home, taking photos of myself in different outfits. I started with my Samsung S9 handphone camera, but over time I felt that the quality of the photographs simply wasn't as clear or sharp as I'd like. When editing photos using handphone apps such as Meitu, snapseed or many others out there, they all seem to have this nasty habit of lowering the sharpness, which makes the photo appear of an even lower quality. Learning how to use Adobe lightroom and photoshop was an option, but that would take some time since I had zero skills on that front. And if the base photo quality wasn't great, there is only so much photoshop could do. I tried using a remote and my phone's rear camera, but the downside was the inability to see how I was posing, resulting in huge number of poorly taken pictures (it was basically a spam fest. Pose, shoot and hope for the best). Wasn't long before I decided I needed to use a digital camera if I wanted better results.

I owned a Sony a-5100 (kit lens, 16-50mm, f/3.5-5.6) which is a pocket-sized but nevertheless powerful camera that served me well on many holidays over the years, so naturally it was the first thing to try. Despite its age, it had an app that allowed Wifi tethering of the camera to my phone, turning my phone into a remote trigger that also allows me to see my expression and poses. This really changed the game for me when it came to self-portraiture, since I could see myself pose and frame each photo properly before pressing the trigger. Indoor lighting wasn't adequate, so I bought a $30 softbox and light from Taobao as an added light source. It was a fair bit more inconvenient to use a digital camera, but my photographs became noticeably better. Over time I also grew familiar with the equipment and became more efficient in taking photos that I liked.

(the trust Sony a-5100. I still bring it out for holidays and it works superbly)

After about 1+ years, I grew curious about flash photography. Very pretty photos online, especially of cosplayers and wedding shoots seemed to require good lighting; which was something that my room did not have. I remembered from my bridal photoshoot that even though the studio was quite dim, it had two massive softboxes (probably 150cm diameter or larger), which created very soft and flattering light that hid a lot of the flaws on my skin. While the Sony a-5100 was a very capable workhorse, it had a downside of not having a hot shoe. This meant that shooting with a separate flash was possible, but required jumping through a number of hoops; a hassle I was unwilling to deal with. So after a bit of research, I decided to jump ahead to get a new set of equipment to play around with. I bought a Nikon D5600 (an entry level DSLR), a Godox TT685N speedlight, a Godox X2 trigger, a massive 140cm octabox and the tripods to hold all the new equipment up. Total damage: $1000 (ouch). I justified the purchases by bringing out the camera and flash out more on family outings to take photos of my kid....which proved to be quite a game changer. Taking sharp photos of children in perpetual motion is nearly impossible without a flash.

(Equipment I use for self-portraits these days, sans the massive 140cm octabox)

Ok, back to crossdressing and photography. It took me a while to get used to the equipment, but when I finally did, I liked what I saw. My photos were brighter, there was a nice catch light in my eyes during close up portrait photos and photos were sharp. My main regret was getting an octabox that was oversized and too large for my house. While the light from it is super soft and makes my skin look incredible, 140cm is VERY unwieldy in a small HDB flat, meaning that I didn't have too much manoeuvrability. Setting it up is challenging too, as it comes with 8 spokes that needed to be attached individually. So my advice if you're planning to get an octabox is to get those with the quick release feature. Yes it will cost 3 times as much, but you're likely to want to use it a lot more. Alternatively, you could get an umbrella, which is very easy to set up as well.

While this post is a bit about how I gradually upgraded my gear over the years, an important point to make is that photography isn't about how powerful your gear is. Upgrading your equipment also isn't always necessary; our trusty handphone camera is usually more than adequate for taking pretty photos to post on social media. It's about using that gear to its fullest potential, capturing the pose and expression that reflects the creative idea you have in mind. I'm a fledgling in photography; barely competent in using my latest gear to its fullest potential and still a huge work in progress with regards to framing (I sometimes just spam shots and hope for the best), but I'm trying to improve slowly, trying to take more photos. While Instagram is a source of envy, it is also a great source of inspiration, so I save looks, poses and expressions that I want to emulate or try out during my next dress up session.

Call me a narcissist (yes I admit I am a bit of one), but when I get praises for my photos it does make me feel quite good. I derive great joy in doing self-portraits and immortalising my various looks and outfits, for future viewing and admiring. It has become one of my main drivers behind crossdressing these days and will continue to be so for a while.

I was listening to a podcast that people do not talk enough about death when they are healthy, which results in problems when a sudden unfortunate event throws everyone and everything into chaos. This triggered random and rather morbid thoughts that I've always had. If I were to meet an untimely demise tomorrow, how would Isabelle's friends know that she is no longer on this world? Would my sudden silence in group chats and social media hint to friends that something untoward has happened to me? Or would they speculate that other circumstances have made me decide to socially purge Isabelle's existence? Given my current age, the latter seems a lot more likely. But if suspicions start to grow, how would Isabelle's friends even get the closure to their speculations? (assuming they needed such a closure). Would my friends be sad that they have lost a friend in life? Or was Isabelle's existence superficial and fleeting, like footsteps on a sandy beach; easily washed away and erased with each wave. Hopefully not.

Thinking about death is a bit sad as it triggers all manner of emotions. But it is a good thought exercise to help prepare for the future. It made me wonder, how I would plan my posthumous activities.

1) What would I do with my female stuff?

If I could, rather than donating them to salvation army or selling them, I will give away all my stuff to fellow crossdressers who could put them to good use. I've accumulated quite a lot of women's clothing over the years. Counting everything that is in good condition, I have at least 40 outfits (majority are dresses), 10+ wigs of various designs, hippads and breastplates that are very usable, 5 pair of heels and a whole bunch of accessories that would make more than a few crossdressers very happy (after all, these are the items that have brought me so much happiness and joy over the years).

2) Would I take the secret to the grave?

I did consider having a final request for me to be dressed up and cremated as Isabelle in a beautiful white gown. After all, though I could not be a woman in life, I could be one in death. But that might be a bit too much for my family to take since none of them knows of the secret. It's common for the top of the casket to be open for friends and relatives to pay their final respects. Imagine the shock/horror/disgust/incredulity when they walk past and see me as my female alter ego in there. So probably not such a great idea to leave my immediate family to explain and deal with the fallout of such a shocking public revelation. And since I'm dead, I'll be unaware and unable to help explain the reasons behind my dressing, leaving my family to face and clean up the "mess". So definitely no public revelations

As for coming out to specific people in my life, it will depend on who it is. Currently, only my wife knows of my crossdressing. So in terms of family members, I have my parents, my sibling and my kid. While I could reveal it to my parents and sibling posthumously, they probably would have enough to deal with already and don't need to be saddled with this revelation. There is no need for my secret to taint the good memories that they have of their son/brother. While my dad might be able to rationalise it, my mum is very religious and will struggle to come to terms with my crossdressing. As for my sibling, I think acceptance shouldn't be an issue, but not a must to know.

I definitely want my kid to know about Isabelle at some point in the future though, when my kid is older and understands gender and its nuances. Because of how important my kid is to me, a secret as big as my female alter ego Isabelle should be shared. I want my child to know other facets of me, that would give a more complete picture of me as a father. My continuous struggle with gender dysphoria since young and the slow-blooming of Isabelle as my female alter ego has shaped the way I think and behave. It might help my kid understand my actions and behaviour when I was still alive (while I have taken great pains to hide Isabelle from my kid, small things will invariably leak out. This is an interesting article on the BBC about parents that kept the nature of the family business secret from their children). If my kid turns out LGBT in the future (never say never), knowing of Isabelle's existence might help to bring greater acceptance.

3) Will I want to reach out to Isabelle's friends?

Definitely yes. Isabelle has made a few close friends in the crossdressing community and I feel like I owe it to them to inform of my demise. This would bring closure to the sudden silence. And perhaps, similar to how I feel grateful to have them as my friends, they also would feel happy to have had Isabelle been a part of their lives. I will definitely need to rely on my wife to reach out to them via my social media accounts.

The other avenue that I want to reach out is a final farewell post through my blog, to conclude what I feel is one of the legacies I will be leaving behind. While my blog isn't widely read (given the subject nature), it is a collection of my thoughts and musings. It is a piece of me, immortalised in prose (well, that is until the Internet no longer exists or Blogger gets shut down).

4) Would I regret having not lived/experienced my female self fully?

No. Could I have done more? Definitely. But do I regret not having lived? I don't think so. Isabelle has had her time in the sun. I have done much more than I have ever thought possible when I was in my youth, checking off many items in the bucket list. Isabelle has blossomed over the past few years, and despite inching ever closer to my 40s, my continuous struggles with dysphoria and some regrets (e.g. not doing proper skin care when young), Isabelle is currently her most confident and beautiful iteration.

Back in 2019 I attended my first large scale gathering of crossdressers in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Jointly organised by Malaysian and Singaporean friends, it was the annual bilat event that sees attendance of 40+ crossdressers from both sides of the causeway, all dolled up to the nines. I made some good friends in the community whom I've continued to chat with regularly despite having only met them once during that gathering. Due to covid, work and life, I've never been able to join subsequent gatherings since, so when the opportunity for a 3D3N solo trip came along I decided to head to Kuala Lumpur once again to meet with old friends (sanctioned by the Wife of course. She called it my "Eat, Pray, Love" trip. Not the right reference, but it was a movie about a solo trip of self-discovery).

I planned for my 1st night to be at a fancier hotel so I could do an indoor photoshoot in a nicer setting, while the remaining nights were at a budget friendly hotel within walking distance of the major shopping areas.

Day 1 - Photography

Being mindful of the potential checkpoint jam due to the long weekend and not wanting to waste any time, I began my drive towards Kuala Lumpur at 5.30am. I cleared both border customs in record time of 15 minutes, which was very shocking as that has never happened in any of my trips to Malaysia (perhaps going in early is the way to go). Stopping only for a coffee and toilet break, I reached my first Kuala Lumpur hotel at 10.30am. Fortunately they had an available room so I got to check in super early. The hotel was located in the city fringes so there weren't too many sights for me to explore which was fine since my primary objective was to take fancy photographs within the hotel. After a quick lunch and nap, I ditched my male trappings and began the transformation into Isabelle.

Self-portraiture using a DSLR on a tripod and flash photography isn't the easiest thing to do. Not only do I need to do my own makeup, I have to set up my photography equipment, use my handphone as a timed wireless-tether to trigger the camera shutter, while being the model being photographed. This is something I do regularly at home and they tend to be long drawn 4 to 5 hours events with around 200 photographs taken. And this was exactly what I did at the hotel. I started at around 4.30pm and after multiple outfit and position changes in the room, I finally called it quits at 11.30pm as I was too hungry and tired to continue. By the time I changed back to my guy mode, ate my cup noodles for dinner and rolled into bed for that sweet glorious sleep, it was already 2am. Was it worth it? Definitely. You be the judge.

(The dress I was going to wear for New Year's Eve. Photo taken of me from behind)

Day 2 - New Year's Eve

I originally planned to wake up early for a morning photoshoot by the hotel pool in a bikini (which would have been awesome), but there was no way in hell my middle-aged body was going to survive another day with 4 hours of sleep. So I opted for a late morning lazy breakfast, before I checked out of the fancy hotel and headed into central Kuala Lumpur. The second hotel was unable to cater for an early check-in, so I spent a bit of time wandering around Lot 10 and Pavilion mall to suss out the shops and potential places Isabelle could go shopping on the 3rd day. The latter had a Parkson Elite with a huge array of fancy dresses and cheongsams so that would be my go to. Day 2 however, was New Year's Eve and the main event.

My friends had pre-booked a small table in a club/bar from 8pm till late. Events like this are hard to come by for us crossdressers, so looking like a million bucks was an absolute must. After nearly 2 hours of makeup, accessorising, sticking on fake nails and slinking into a sliver sequined mini-dress, I stepped out into the hotel lobby feeling like an absolute Queen.

I linked up with my friend and we headed over to the bar. Tapping on a nondescript door that looked like a maintenance access, it opened to reveal a fancy corridor that led to a swanky looking venue. I never understood the concept of a speakeasy, but I suppose some do enjoy the feeling of exclusivity. Also, this place was LGBT friendly, so being a speakeasy was probably a slight benefit in the more conservative Malaysia.

And so the night began! My guy self might be a homebody, but Isabelle...she loved looking glam and she loved the night life. There was a live band with a male lead singer who sang many suspiciously closet gay songs (there was George Michael - Careless Whisper, Lady Gaga - Bad Romance, Cher - Do you Believe). The food was surprisingly tasty for a bar so we stuffed our faces with food to hit the minimum spend (rather than drink ourselves silly).

(Look at this fancy cocktail!)

As we enjoyed the music, food and vibes in the bar, we chatted like a bunch of old friends, despite it being the second time we've met each other. We spoke of how life was treating us, of other crossdressers old and new, of future gathering plans, of the scary but heady experience of coming out to cis-gendered friends, etc. And before we knew it, we started the final countdown to the new year, which was capped off with a bang by a cabaret show (Nicki Minaj/Ariana/Jessie J's Bang Bang really riled the crowd up). The DJ started playing clubbing music and people began dancing in front of the stage with the cabaret performers and each other. Isabelle couldn't help but join the crowd on the dance floor, jiving and moving with revellers. We finally decided we had our fill of fun at 2am, bade each other farewell, Happy New Year and parted ways.

Day 3 - Shopping

The 3rd day was considerably uneventful as it was a dedicated shop/eat/relax day. I didn't remove my red stick-on nails when I went for breakfast at the hotel in guy mode, so I got a number of stares from other guests sitting near me as I ate my nasi lemak. This was the first time I ever did something this bold, but I didn't care or feel nervous about it. The beauty of a being in a foreign country is that I will never meet any of these people in my regular life and there is very low chance of meeting someone who might recognise me.

For my casual shopping trip, I chose to wear a recently purchased black denim babydoll dress that came up to mid-thigh, a style that is pretty popular recently in Singapore and very suited for shorter crossdressers like me. One thing I noticed was that a lot of people still wore masks in Kuala Lumpur despite the Covid pandemic being largely over (perhaps around 70%?). So in order to blend in I also decided to wear a mask when wandering around Pavilion mall.

(Definitely not my best mirror selfie, but the only one I took that day)

I was still feeling tired from the earlier two days, so there wasn't a huge motivation to go crazy shopping. Plus the public holiday weekend crowd also sapped my energy a bit (I dislike crowds). So I zoomed in on my main objective of cheongsam shopping...which unfortunately reminded me of how unforgiving cheongsams are. A perfectly tailored cheongsam on a lady looks incredible; poised, classy and shows off womanly curves (just look at Maggie Cheung from the movie "In the Mood for Love"). But with the wrong material, design or cut, it is so very easy to look matronly, too top heavy, or *gasps in horror* like a Bak-zhang (Hokkien for rice dumpling. Looking like one means looking swollen with all the meat and fats wrapped too tightly) I'm quite slim and have decent curves with help from my hippads, but none of the cheongsams I picked made the cut. Also, they all cost $100 and there was no way I was going to spend that amount of money unless I was going to look a smashing 10/10.

(The tasty tasty Bak-Zhang. But eat too many and you'll start to look like one)

By 5pm, I was utterly drained and decided it was time for Cinderella to finally transform back into a fella for good. After a simple dinner, I met up with my friend again and ended the day with another chit chat (this time we were both in potato mode) over a milkshake from Five Guys.

Wrap Up

My 3 day solo holiday to Kuala Lumpur was the longest consecutive period I have spent as Isabelle (which also included sleeping in nighties that I brought for the trip). Though it was quite tiring due to me being overly ambitious, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I've always wanted to celebrate New Year's Eve in a sequined dress as Isabelle and I did exactly that, checking off another item on my bucket list. I'm not sure if I will get another opportunity to attend the next annual crossdressers gathering or go overseas dressed as Isabelle, but I'll make a wee bit of effort to see if my schedule (and life) allows me to. In the mean time, I'll need to think of more things to add into my significantly shortened bucket list.

Musings of a Singaporean Transgender

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