My new pink sandals are so much fun!

It’s funny.  I never really thought of myself as a foot fetishist.  I certainly have qualms about wanting a “foot job”.  Maybe from some sweetie with really cute feet, but even then, I can certainly think of better things to do… So I really don’t think my pleasure derived from shoes has anything to do with sex.  I’m just not into feet that way. I think I just like shoes. I mean in so many clothes, women have soooooooooooo ooooo ooooo much more of an option.  So many styles.  So many colors.  So many options, like dresses and skirts, that men don’t even have, period.  If you’re a woman, it’s fun! Given that alone, it’s really no wonder that some men crossdress.  Women do it every day and no one even thinks about it.  Women can wear simple slacks, or shirts, so when they sneak in a man’s shirt, who even notices?  Women can wear anything!  Men, on the other hand, have so very little to choose from. But there’s something special, something that truly makes us happy, when it comes to shoes. Today, my happy shoes are some pink sandals with a low-ish heel that I got on clearance.  I had to order them one size too large because my size was already sold out.  But luckily they’re strappy things that (after adjustment with a leather punch) fit tight enough, and look just peachy.  I love these shoes.  They just make me all sparlky inside. Before these it was my white go go boots.  God those are some fun boots. I mean all sorts of fun things to wear make me happy.  But still, there’s just nothing like a new pair of shoes to brighten my day. I wonder why…

So why do I wear women’s clothing? Because I want to feel pretty, duh! It’s funny.  A lot of people view crossdressing as a fetish.  Like men get off running around in drag.  And maybe, for some, it is, and they do. For me though, it’s just more about looking on the outside how I feel on the inside.  It’s a level of comfort.  Let me explain. I have a couple of business suits.  (Yes, normal mens’ business suits.)  They’re reasonably stylish because I like to be.  But as good as I might look in them, they’re still stuffy and uncomfortable to me.  Not that the suits are badly tailored.  In fact because of my unique sizing, I always have to get my professional clothing tailored.  The problem with wearing the suits is just that they’re simply not … me. So after a day of wearing a suit, it’s nice to relax and get out of it and into something more comfortable. Some people wear jammies. I wear women’s clothes.  Because, inside, I am a woman.  Or at least part of me is.  All day long in any professional environment I have to pretend to be otherwise.  But when I’m safe at home, I can just be myself.  And that means letting out the woman in me. It has nothing to do with hot kinky lovin’.  Or with creepy masturbation techniques.  Or anything like that.  It’s not sexual in any way.  It’s just myself being free to be me. Oh, sure, there are plenty of times when I’m horny while in drag.  There are also plenty of times that I’m horny when I’m dressed as a man.  Just because it can be fun to add new sensory pleasures like satin and nylon doesn’t mean I dress in drag to get off.  In fact, most times I don’t. And other times I do not as a kink, but because it’s, well, what it should be. Imagine for a moment that you lost your left arm in the war.  You used to wear a watch on that arm.  You’d look at it all of the time to tell the time.  You’d use the arm regularly.  It was a part of you.  But now it’s not.  You still look down at where it used to be, expecting your watch to still be there.  Sometimes you can even feel your arm is still there, a phantom limb.  That’s legitimite human experience. Now, imagine that you’re a woman.  Only you wake up to find that you have a penis instead of a vagina.  And that you’re covered in tons of manly body hair. Same thing. Sometimes it’s downright creepy. Wearing women’s clothing, it’s a balm.  It’s a way of coping.  It helps me feel right. There are plenty of days where I don’t.  In fact only recently did I feel secure enough in a relationship to even dare start.  But gods it feels so right.  It’s such a relief.  It’s like just taking a load off after a hard day of work.  It’s nice to be me.  It’s a comfort thing. So, yeah, sometimes I dress up in crazy ways.  It’s like making up for all of the frustration that’s pent up inside.  But sometimes, it’s just about comfort and simplicity.  It’s like just getting into a hot bubble bath and taking a good soak. Some people might think drag is always just some fetish kink.  But it’s not.  There’s also comfort drag.

Sometimes drag is just for comfort.