BigCloset featured author VitalandFresh.
The start of a hair adventure feeding my lifelong interest in slightly femi hair
First Curls
by Vitalandfresh
As a twenty-something technical guy living with his wife Christine I didn’t bother too much about fashion or my look. Christine cut my hair when needed, it was okay. But my hair was getting a bit long and being lank and straight and floppy it looked a bit anoraky. So Christine suggested she could put a few rollers in the top to give it a bit of lift. I thought no one else will know, so she did that a few times drying it with her hairdryer. It gave my hair a bit more shape and doing it last thing before bed whenever it looked very flat, it was working fine.
Then we had a weekend coming where we were going to see a good friend, Lisa, who taught hairdressing at a local college, maybe she could suggest something to improve the look. I thought maybe a better cut or hair product, and called her but Lisa replied ‘Try a body perm, I can do it when you visit’. That got me thinking, why not? and if I don’t like it I can always blow dry it straightish, it probably won’t look too obvious. I said yes.
By the time the day came I was excited and a bit aroused at the prospect of being permed with rollers in my hair. We drove to the farm where Lisa lodged with her farmer friends. We had a nice lunch and chit chat but then “Shall we start your hair?”
So in go the rollers. Lisa wound them tight but they weren’t painful, just snug, I remember them as blue and not the really tiny ones. ‘Such a neat pattern’ says Christine, ‘we should have brought the camera’, I regret now not having photos. The perming lotion goes on, I get a frisson of excitement, it’s a good job I wore tight briefs (good old Y-fronts in the UK). I went for a pee while it was processing, and I couldn’t resist touching the rollers, counting them, ooh, it looks and feels incredible. We do the rinse out at the sink upstairs, there’s a big session pressing a towel on the rollers to dry, then put on the cold neutraliser. Then the big moment, the rods come out, and, aargh, my head is covered in wet curly hair, proper curls, what am I going to tell everyone? Lisa cut it to give it more shape then blow dried it with a round brush, which still left it curly more than wavy. It was only maybe 3 inches long, short for any sort of perm, as I now know, not as curly as Bradley Cooper in American Hustle but on its way. But just the idea of it turned me on. Lisa says it’s not too curly. Everyone there liked it. I liked it too but I was embarrassed.
On the way home in the car, I couldn’t stop feeling it, caressing those springy curls holding out from my head.
Monday morning I went to the office, which was open plan accommodating 50 people, lowish partitions between pens. I was so nervous but trying hard to look relaxed. A few stares, then they looked away. A few smirks. A few complements. I’m riding it out. Then Rachel, an administrator from the room adjacent comes to see me and she loses it giggling, ducks down then looks again and she’s off again, it’s excruciating. I blush but take it and survive.
And I get used to it, within a week I’m loving it and put in conditioner to keep it glossy, I use an afro comb to keep the curls separate and defined, my hair dries while I’m walking to work. As it grows it hangs better and I love its full and definite fem look and enjoy feeling my palms brushing its softness. I manage to pretend that it’s no big deal but really I’m slightly obsessed. On business trips in hotels with time to waste I would gaze into the shaving mirror to see the back magnified in the bathroom mirror, with its lusciousness I was unable to resist touching myself.
The next big question was whether to do it again, I think we know the answer to that.
A salon visit prompts a possible adventure
What does womanly stuff feel like for a man?
By Vitalandfresh
Being a man, I've had my hair short for decades, my wife cutting it using clippers. However, before Christmas I decided to let it grow. I had no look in mind, just thought let it grow till I got fed up with it and then have it clippered short again. It took a while before it looked much longer, but it started looking unkempt before that. My family and friends asked about it and I said I was just letting it grow. After a few months it was 2 inches long or so all over and Christine, my wife, pressed me to let her cut it. I replied that as it was growing and shapeless, cutting it would be difficult and should be done by a professional. Christine suggested that Paula, her hairdresser, could do it, and I thought why not?
So I made an appointment and a few weeks later was sat in Paula's salon leaning back into a sink having her wash my hair, very pleasant. Paula asked me what I wanted with my hair and I explained I was just growing it, she said it will need styling more as it gets long. I then mentioned that the last time it got long, many years ago, I ended up having it permed and wearing it curly for a couple of years. Well Paula loved to hear that, she had been trying to get her brother to consider a body perm for his longish hair and had done a trial to show him what it might look like. Anyway, Paula trimmed the ends of my hair, put on a bit of mousse, blow dried it and I was happy with the slightly 'coiffed' result. She asked me if she could trim my eyebrows and I said fine. She put the comb through them and cut them tight to the comb! My admittedly dark and bushy brows were now sparse, not quite feminine, but groomed.
Since then I've been wondering what it would be like to have my hair longer with a bit of volume and what a thrill it might be to have it permed again. I could even do the trial run, or more, let her curl it for fun. I relayed the conversation to Christine at home to sow the seed for more experiments.
But after reading the stories on this Network and Bigcloset I began to wonder further, what does it feel like to have other things women have? Breasts wobbling on your chest? Earrings dangling against your neck? Hairless legs brushed by the hem of your dress? Long polished fingernails? These things intrigue me not because I want to be a woman or think I might look good, my face might look okay but my body wouldn't. I'd get a thrill from the idea of it but most of all I want to know what it feels like. In a way especially the dress, I've always thought the minimum number of garments you wear the better, holding trousers up by the belt is not always comfortable, what could be better than a light dress hanging from your shoulders. If it's the right shape you wouldn't need underwear, it would be like swimming nude, the ultimate freedom. The Arabs have got it right, a jellaba would be the best.
I researched the whole idea. The simplest would be to go to a transformation salon and get the whole makeover. There's one not to far from me, the drawback is that it costs several hundred bucks and though I can and would afford it, I'd need to hide it from Christine. Our relationship, which is already withering away rather, would not stand it I think. She is not remotely girly and though she has tried all these things would probably struggle to understand why I might want to try them. She accepts my hair obsession, but doesn't participate much herself any more. I used to cut her hair in all sorts of quite radical styles: undercuts; spikes; I got her to have it permed once but she really can't be bothered with it, which is fair enough.
I could do it piecemeal. Ebay has breast forms, glue, and bras. 'Click and collect' would work to buy a cheap dress without too much risk of exposure. Shaving my legs could be done whenever Christine is away for a week or so, which happens a couple of times a year. All this messing about can be part of the adventure, a bit like travelling independently versus getting a package tour. All the gear can be hidden discreetly without too much danger of discovery and if I have to come clean, so be it. And I get to have another go when the chance arises.
It's all possible, and there is an absence approaching for Christine, I think I should have a go.
Let's try out this crossdressing
Salon hair but DIY feminisation
By Vitalandfresh
A previous story from a few months before told of me, a man, growing my hair and wondering on the experience of having things women have.
I am having my hair trimmed every six weeks to keep it looking in shape as it grows, but also because I enjoy having my hair washed and pampered. I had been talking with Paula the hairdresser about when it would be time to give my hair a body perm and I said that I would quite like to see it curly again just for a day – I had it permed when I was a lot younger. I left the salon without arranging it but realised that the next appointment would be when Christine, my wife, would be away for a few days. So when I received a text message from Paula’s system confirming the next appointment, I replied asking her to set it temporarily curly, as if it were permed.
I could now put my idea of trying a dress, breasts, earrings and the rest into action to coincide with the curly hair. I use ebay, and if I take care to be discreet it’s unlikely anyone would notice any odd purchases.
There are a lot of second hand dresses on offer and not really knowing my size made it difficult to choose. I wanted the dress to show off my breasts that I hadn’t yet acquired, but I also wanted to feel the skirt brush against my thighs. At one point I thought why don’t I go to a discount clothes shop and buy a new dress, I could take it into the fitting cubicle with some men’s trousers, on the pretext that I was buying the dress for my wife. In the end I bought a dress on ebay in jersey material that flared a bit in the skirt but hugged my top. I had it delivered to a local store for pickup so Christine wouldn’t be aware.
Breast forms are an entertaining subject to research: how big, what shape, what material, and will they glue on. I decided on the silicone filled type, hopefully so they jiggle. They will be for a C cup which should look a natural size on me. They can also be glued on but that is another minefield. The only ‘secure’ way to stick them is to buy a super strong glue that may cause skin irritation and that needs a powerful solvent to take them off. Contrary to the internet stories, few breastforms are robust enough to survive being slept in which was disappointing. So I went for a glue for prosthetic disguises that is water soluble. If the breastforms are not too heavy, it should work. So ebay was used to deliver this stash to the local store too.
A bra was next, in theory it’s straightforward to measure yourself for a bra. Measure your chest under your pecs, then select the cup size. I was between 36 and 38 inches so I bought both sizes. It’s a bit weird that there are so many used bras on ebay but it’s useful to me.
Earrings could be problematic as my ears aren’t pierced even though there were plenty of boys in my class at school who did get one or both pierced, but they were a lot cooler and braver than me. Christine has plenty of really striking and original dangly earrings, I’d love to try those. So when she was out I tried using sellotape in a narrow strip to glue the hanger wire to my earlobe and if it was all clean it worked.
It’s usually Christine who does the shopping, I do most of the cooking, honest!, but on a rare supermarket visit I bought lipstick and nail varnish. I had researched it online and written down the colours so I didn’t linger at the shelf, and I blatantly stared at my shopping list to pretend that I was buying it for my partner. I went for what I thought would be subtle colours.
So the kit arrived and I discreetly tried everything for size and waited for my hair appointment and solitude to put it all together. I was not going to the salon in any way ‘dressed’, I would do the transformation at home afterwards.
The big day arrived, I was the first customer of the morning. Paula hadn’t responded to my message asking for curls and the time slot was usually only 45 minutes before the next customer came in. This had happened a few times, it was an elderly lady, the salon was a quiet local one serving the immediate area, not a town centre one. Paula is always ready for my arrival and before I can knock or try the door I was invited in. She immediately seats me at the washbasin and washes and conditions my hair, chatting about hill walking or if I’ve been away. I then move to the chair in front of the mirror and Pauls cuts my hair to allow it to grow out but keep some shape, she is thorough and proficient. As the cut is being completed she said she could show me how to style it and I asked if she got my message about curling it, she replied no but if I want that she can do it. ‘Shall I use a curling iron or are you ready for rollers?’ I hesitate, she continues, ‘You seem pretty open to adventure, we’ll do rollers’. Perfect.
Quickly she dampened my hair, massaged in some mousse, or lotion?, then wheels a cart with rollers alongside and immediately winds a roller in. I’m transported back a decade or 2 when I’m having a perm and wondering what it will look like. She managed to put in 31 3/4 inch rollers and I announced that I need to take a photo to show Christine, Paula took my phone and took a few photos from every angle. This is great. She got the hand-held hairdryer and blasted my curlers one by one to dry them quickly, I couldn’t imagine this would be done before the next customer, but after less than 10 minutes, she deemed it dry and the rollers were taken out. Paula tousled (is that a word?) the curls, pulled them this way and that and then there was a tap at the door. She let in the old lady who waited patiently in the seat at right-angles to me. I was wondering what the lady is thinking, does she think my hair is naturally curly or can she tell I’ve had a shampoo and set like she will or used to have? Paula offered me hairspray and I said yes, I wondered whether it would last overnight. She trimmed my eyebrows, as always, I like that. I was smiling but non-committal when asked by Paula if I like the do. My hair wasn’t very long at this point so it looked more wavy than curly and stood up at the front where it’s not so thick. Anyway it looked different and I didn’t judge it too much as I could do that when I get home. I got up to pay, arranged the next visit in six weeks and then I went out into the big wide world.
I had previously thought about the possibility of being met by a neighbour who knew me on the walk home so I took a slightly longer way home, only half a mile. However as I turned a corner and neared my house there he was, hat on, head down, approaching me 20 yards away. I did a swift turn about and went back the way I came. I don’t know what I would have said if he had asked me about it later but he never did.
I made it home! I look in the mirror and caress my hair and rather than the stiff set hair described in the good old days, it feels soft and springy, in fact if feels great. Time to get togged out.
It takes quite a while to put all the gear on, the breastforms are cold having been in the basement. I realise my legs are rather hairy so I clip the hair shorter but haven’t the nerve to remove it completely. The earrings are fiddly to put on but with trial and error it works again, they are turquoise plaques maybe half an inch long. The nail varnish is a pain to do, and I realise the colour is insipid, I should have gone brighter. Lipstick, I chose a pale colour that you can barely tell is on and another colour a bit bolder that looks so bright it says ‘Look at me’! I don’t have shoes but the mirror barely reaches the ground so that’s not a problem. I suppose I’m missing out on the high heel experience but I remember the 1970s when men (or boys) had heels that were maybe 3 inches, that’s high enough for me. I could run and play football in them.
So I walk up and down, do stairs, sit and read, see myself passing mirrors, go to the toilet, shake my head, but I stay inside.
What’s my verdict? My hair looks a bit unnatural, it sits up at the front and isn’t thick enough. When I show the photos to Christine she’s more damning. I’ll try again when it’s longer and ask to make it more curly. I like the dress, it feels good, free, and walking about without knickers is great. The feel of the breasts is a bit disappointing, in the bra they don’t really jiggle and having run with a mini backpack on with water bottles in the straps, I suppose the feel is not new. I then tried to glue the forms with no bra but the jiggle was minimal and they fell off quickly. The breasts look quite good in a fairly false way but I don’t notice them unless I see myself, they don’t particularly obscure my view when I look down. In the mirror with my hair puffed up and big breasts sticking out I thought of my mother (eek!). The dangly earrings however are great, I feel the weight of them and as with my hair (now longer), I can feel them on my neck as I move, very sensual. I wonder if I dare get my ears pierced, am I bold enough to withstand the attention? The nail varnish gives my hands a feminine look, but that’s undone by the hairy backs! The lipstick is beyond my judgement, I can’t tell if I just look like a clown or if it helps, it’s too bright.
Overall I don’t look very feminine but it all feels good. I did think I would get more turned on by it all but I’m strangely detached. It’s definitely having my hair done that excites me the most.
What does Christine think of me having my hair curled?
Curly hair, my wife gives her verdict
By Vitalandfresh
I had done my crossdressing event and my next hair trimming appointment arrived a month or two later. Paula washed my hair and I moved to the styling station, "So what did you think of the curls last time?" asked Paula. "Well it felt great, but the top seemed a bit thin and puffed up, it was wavy rather than curly" I replied. "If you want it really curly it will need to be two inches longer" said Paula. That was a bit of a blow. After the summer, at another salon visit, I made another appointment for proper curls, I mentioned doing it in rollers but Paula seemed a bit vague.
As I walked home I realised that Christine, my wife, would be at home this time when I returned with curly hair. She had been away for my previous hair curling session, but I had sent her photos of me in hair rollers and the finished 'do'. We then had a video call before I did my dressing in my feminine garb. Christine was cool about the curls in both senses of the word, she wasn't shocked, I'd told her Paula was keen to give me a body perm. Her reaction was: "No, it doesn't look natural, the front is too thin and lifted up. You do look a bit feminine, I'd love to see you in a dress. If I had one your size I'd ask you to try it." That threw me completely, here I was preparing to put a dress on that I'd secretly bought and Christine said that. I was speechless.
Reflecting on it later, I should have said I could get a dress, but the moment had passed and I didn't have the nerve to bring it up again. That said, Christine has never been horrified by any signs that I might be a bit fem. When I was a lot younger I had my haired permed for a couple of years and she seemed to like it. She liked to caress my curls, as did I. Around that time she had a stylish friend who encouraged Christine to let her give her radical short haircuts, spikes, undercut, a bowl cut. I loved it and when the friend moved further away I took on the job for a few years, I learned how to do simple cuts. We got some clippers and I cajoled Christine into some quite short buzzes.
Anyway back to the current story, time passed, my hair grew, a bit, it's painfully slow, still only six inches long. The text message pinged reminding me of my next hair appointment, it's always in the morning, for 35 minutes but it's 45 minutes before the next customer knocks. I was wondering if Paula would schedule longer if she was setting my hair.
As I approach the salon, the door opens as usual. Paula washes my hair, no mention of curls. I sit in the chair before the mirror and Paula smirks and chirps "So we're putting a bend in your hair today". I get instantly aroused. She gets the curling iron, it warms while she dries my hair. Strips of my hair are wrapped onto the curling iron, a new experience. My head slowly becomes bigger and more textured, I like seeing the locks swing and flop as she drops them. It's over quickly, but as she tweaks and primps 09:55 arrives and she suddenly lets two men into the salon. They are seated to the side and as much as I pretend to be oblivious of them, they are doing likewise of me. They look vague similar, one older, are they father and son? Surely it's as embarrassing for men to go for a haircut together as for me to have my hair set? Paula asks me if I would like to have spray, I want the curls to last and I always accept any suggestion she makes so: yes. Next she trims my eyebrows which I always enjoy, even being watched. I'm amazed each time at how short she crops them but how it still looks fine. The cape is removed and as I walk to the desk, I make eye contact with the older gent and there's a very brief acknowledgement.
I walk home the long way to avoid my neighbour, this time successfully. As I walk I anticipate Christine's comments, I hope she mentions wearing a dress again, I could suggest I buy one to try and gauge her reaction. My hair bounces and swings a bit with each stride, I love it. I enter the house and Christine sees me, "Oh, I was wondering if you'd try again." Quick appraisal: "No, it doesn't look natural, you can see barrel curls at the back". With the distraction of the men in the salon, I hadn't properly looked at my hair, she had a point... "It feels great" I reply, touching it, "I bet it does" she agrees. And I leave it at that, nothing about dresses.
I stay in that day, enjoying the sensations and stealing looks in the mirror. It survived the next night, looking a bit scruffy, someone skilful could probably recover it. I wondered if it would survive a 3 mile run and that did kill it.
The next excitement will probably be a body perm but Paula said it needed to be longer for that too. Maybe after that I'll try again with proper curls, it should hold better with a perm.