Entering the pink room

Last night, I stepped into foreign territory.

Carla’s is a ’boutique,’ a place of refuge, camaraderie, and shopping opportunities for trans women and crossdressing men. I learned of ‘locker girls,’ people who rent a locker, where they store their female paraphernalia. They have full 24 hour access. Imagine when the only gender or erotic relief you can get is to steal away in the night and put your proper clothes on, where no one can see.
Of course, many of the locker girls do gather socially, along with the women; there are brunches and dinners and parties for all of Carla’s patrons. I got a tour of the place, stepping into the boutique I’d only heard of. It really was ‘new’ territory.
Carla’s belongs to Aejaie (along with her husband), a woman  whom I initially meant when she was director at the deFrank Center.  Last night, it was a pleasure to get to know her better. For us both to smile and laugh and share stories.
One story I shared was how when I was initially learning how to do make-up (having been convinced by my well-meaning mom and best friend), I stabbed myself in the eye, using a toothpick to deal with a clump of mascara. Everyone laughed hysterically. But the best moment came when Aejaie said “Only a guy would use a toothpick to deal with a clump of mascara!” and we all dissolved in laughter again.
For some reason, that was awesome; it validated my teenage female self who was trying like a trooper to Fit In, and who, on messing up, showed yet again, his inner maleness.