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Very humble apologies to Jane Austen, but it's a truth universally acknowledged, that a T-Girl in possession of baggy eyes and a slack jaw must be in want of a good make-over. One look in the mirror on a recent mild March morning, and I knew I could neve r do justice to my face. I was in need of professional handiwork. I was in need of Rain, herself a T-Girl, the genius transformation artist behind FairplayTV. This T-Girl was in need of pampering.
I paused outside Rain's charming, 19th-century house. I looked at the bold sign out front: FairplayTV Male Imaging Salon. Right there, for all to see, in the heart of suburban Staten Island. It's one of the many things that I admire about Rain: she doesn't hide who she is and what she does. Rain gave me a big hug as I entered. Still embracing me, she leaned back and reacted, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. "Out late, were we?" I exhaled and she took my hand, squeezing. "You're starting off with a full facial. Let's go, dear." Rain slipped her arm around my waist and led me to the bathroom. She pointed imperiously. As I scrubbed my face with the rough, hard deep-pore soap, I studied my puffy eyes, the dark circles beneath. Rain was going to have her magical hands full today. After disrobing and slipping into an adorable robe, its silky feel at once soothing and erotic, I lay down on the mattress. Rain went to work, firmly applying my mask, her fingers spreading it over my face and neck. My eyes were shut and I was immediately in another dimension. My entire body seemed at once to relax, tension evaporating. I heard the door shut as Rain left, Mozart now soft in the background. I could feel the mask beginning to work, my skin growing taut under its thick cover. Slowly, I drifted off to sleep.
I settled into the wide comfortable chair in the transformation salon. I love this room. There's more make-up in every nook and cranny here than even in my favorite, bar-none make-up/skincare store, Sephora. Rain gave me a critical once-over, feeling the bags under my eyes. "A tad better after the facial, but you had a night, girl!" She's telling me?!? But I had utter faith in Rain. If anyone could take years off my middle-aged male face, it was Rain. She'd done it before, more than once. That brings me to one of the many reasons I adore the professional make-over -- my first glimpse in the mirror of the Feminized me. It is such an exhilarating moment, and I've never grown jaded. It's downright inspiring when I see, revealed in the mirror, this new me. Not just a new me -- a feminine me. A woman. And this woman, this female gazing back at me, translates not only into a new outer me, she translates into a new inner me. I'm reborn. Rejuvenated.
"Keep your eyes shut, girl." She begins, oh-so-softly, massaging under my eyes, her touch gentle, soothing. And then I feel a light brush, almost like feathers, working just beneath the eyes. Rain pauses. And though my eyes are shut, I know she's studying the area. She then carefully starts brushing the skin beneath my eyes, now with a firmer hand. Slightly more pressure, moving in wide half-moon strokes. I think I actually fell asleep. I can't be sure, because the next thing I remember is Rain thinning my eyebrows. I usually trim my eyebrows before visiting Fairplay TV, but since I don't have a thinner, I have to use tweezers. Rain clucked at my erratically cut eyebrows. I love how they look after Rain has thinned them -- even when I'm in my guy persona. Sometimes, a woman will give me a second look when she notices the thinned eyebrows. Whether she thinks I'm merely vain or she's guessed I'm a T-Girl, who knows?
I can dream, can't I? Rain and I chatted about the latest fashions showcased during the recent NYC Fashion Week. We both agreed the new look in working-girl skirts was wonderful, even practical. I found the pleated knee length look especially adorable. I swore that I had to have one of those skirts. I'd already chosen my color, soft blue. Rain was taken with the lean cool casual cut of the slacks. We made plans to go shopping together. Rain held up a slim tube. "Mascara, sweetie. Just came in, you're going to have the most gorgeous lashes. Complete lash styling in a single tube." She showed me the extra-fine comb at one end and the round brush at the other end. Clever.
Foundation. Mascara. I was on my way, going where I loved to go. Rain studied me again, as if uncertain. But I knew better. I knew that look. This was Rain making a change in mid-make-over. "I've given you a shot of color in both eyes, now I want to go with neutrals." She crossed to a shelf neatly stacked with various tubes and bottles. Returning, she held up an oil-free make-up. "Just a touch of a bronze mauve to your cheekbones, nose, chin and forehead, Chris. This will bring out the eyes without drawing attention to itself. You're going to love it." And now I relaxed, totally, in utter contentment. Rain was in her element, and I was safe in her orbit.
A woman. At last finished, Rain swiveled my seat around until I was facing the mirror. I gaped, stunned. Who is this lovely woman staring back at me? I'd never seen her before. I broke into a huge grin. I glanced up at Rain, who winked. "You are a true magician, Rain. A true magician." As I stared at my Femme self, truly my better self, I recalled the argument I'd had several months back with Rain over my "before" and "after" photos she'd chosen for Fairplay TV's banner ad. I looked awful in the "before" pic, another wicked morning after an even wickeder night before. But as Rain explained, that's precisely why she wanted to use it. The road from my "before" pic to my Feminization pic is so great that it makes my "after" pic even more astonishing. Which, of course, makes Rain astonishing. And astonishing she is! "Rain, honey, this is even more impressive than the banner ad pix." She laughed and gave me a hug. As I stared at the lovely woman in the mirror, a part of me was very much wishing that I could remain this woman. Not just this afternoon, but tonight...tomorrow...next week...wouldn't it be a relief to.... But that's another story, as they say.
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