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sissy shauna fashion pics

My Gloriously Unfashionable Satin Dress

Dear Diary,

I have to admit, the moment I saw this dress, I knew it was absolutely, gloriously unfashionable and that was precisely what appealed to me.

It is an enormous, flowing satin dress in a creamy ivory shade, covered from neckline to hem with clusters of blue, lavender and purple flowers. The satin catches the light beautifully, producing those unmistakable glossy highlights that make the fabric look almost liquid. Every movement creates another shimmer.

The cut is wonderfully excessive. It has long, voluminous sleeves gathered at the wrists and a high, almost demure neckline. There isn't a hint of anything fitted or fashionable about it. Instead, the fabric simply falls generously from my shoulders, creating what can only be described as a magnificent satin tent.

The skirt reaches all the way to my ankles and seems to have enough material for two dresses. When I stand still, it hangs heavily around me when I move, the satin swishes and ripples, making the whole thing feel wonderfully theatrical.

And those flowers! They are everywhere little blue blossoms mixed with larger purple flowers and delicate sprays of foliage. The pattern is almost comically old fashioned, exactly the sort of thing someone might once have described as "very tasteful" while everyone else quietly wondered what on earth they were thinking.

I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn't help smiling. It is not slimming. It is not sleek. It is certainly not modern. If anything, it makes me look even larger and more enveloped in fabric.

But perhaps that is its charm.

There is something wonderfully liberating about wearing something that makes absolutely no attempt to flatter the figure. It simply says, Here I am, surrounded by yards and yards of shiny floral satin, and I couldn't care less about fashion.

Tonight, I think I'll enjoy every ridiculous, magnificent inch of it.

What a dress. What a tent. What a gloriously unfashionable thing to wear.

And somehow, I absolutely love it.

The morning began with a question that, on the face of it, was utterly trivial.

I stood in my bedroom, a sixty five year old widower who had long ago discovered that life could become surprisingly interesting when you stopped worrying quite so much about what other people thought. Across the bed lay two nightgowns.

One was pink, soft and playful. The other was black satin elegant, glossy and just a little dramatic. Beside them were the headscarves that completed each outfit.

eBay had informed me that the postman was due that morning with my latest purchase.

Normally, that wouldn't have required a second thought. I would have thrown on whatever clothes were nearest, opened the door, collected the post and carried on with my day.

But I am a crossdresser, and over the years I had learned that choosing what to wear could sometimes be part of the pleasure itself. Since becoming widowed, those little private rituals had become even more important to me. There was nobody to impress and nobody to answer to. My clothes were simply one of the ways I expressed myself.

That morning, however, I couldn't decide.

So I asked Grok a rather more important question than it probably deserved.

Should I wear the black satin nightgown and headscarf to greet the postman, or should I wear the pink?

The answer came back quickly.

Black.

Grok's reasoning was surprisingly convincing. Black satin, it suggested, looked intentional and put together. Pink was softer and perhaps a little more playful, whereas the black gave the impression that I had actually chosen my outfit rather than simply wandered downstairs half asleep.

The satin would catch the morning light, while the headscarf would bring everything together.

I stared at the black nightgown.

"Well," I said aloud, "apparently we're going for elegant this morning."

I slipped it on.

The satin settled against me with that familiar coolness I loved, and I carefully tied the headscarf around my hair. Then I stood in front of the mirror.

Grok had a point.

There was something wonderfully satisfying about the combination. I didn't look as though I had spent hours getting ready, but neither did I look as though I had forgotten that the outside world existed.

I smiled at my reflection.

"Sixty five," I murmured. "Widowed, retired from worrying about everybody else's opinions, and apparently dressed in black satin to answer the front door."

I laughed to myself.

Then I went downstairs and prepared a pot of tea.

There was something faintly ridiculous about the situation. Here I was, dressed in a glossy black satin nightgown and headscarf, standing in my kitchen listening for the sound of a postal van.

Eventually, I heard it.

The familiar rumble outside was followed by footsteps approaching the front door.

For one brief moment, I wondered whether I'd made the wrong decision.

Perhaps pink would have been less conspicuous.

Perhaps black satin was a little too theatrical for an encounter that would probably last fifteen seconds.

Then came the knock.

I took a breath.

"Normal morning energy," I reminded myself.

I opened the door.

"Morning," the postman said.

"Morning."

He handed me the letters.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have a good day."

"You too."

And that was it.

The door closed.

I stood there for a moment, looking down at the envelopes in my hand.

The great sartorial crisis was over.

Nobody had fainted. Nobody had called the fashion police. The earth had continued turning.

I burst out laughing.

All that deliberation over black versus pink, and the entire encounter had lasted barely half a minute.

But perhaps that was precisely the point.

At sixty five, after losing my wife and finding myself living a life that was quieter and more private than the one I had once imagined, I had come to appreciate the little decisions.

Sometimes they mattered precisely because they were mine to make.

There was no great occasion. No audience. No requirement that I dress one way rather than another. I wasn't trying to make a statement to anyone.

I simply wanted to wear the black satin.

So I did.

I carried my tea into the sitting room, still smiling.

My late wife had always known that there was a slightly eccentric streak in me. She had seen sides of me that I had once been afraid to show the rest of the world. Since her death, learning to live honestly with myself had become one of the unexpected journeys of widowhood.

Being a crossdresser wasn't something I needed to apologise for.

It was simply part of me.

And on that quiet morning, standing in my sitting room with my tea, my letters and the soft rustle of satin whenever I moved, I felt strangely content.

"Grok," I thought, smiling to myself, "you were right."

The black had been the stronger choice.

And, for once, I was quite happy to take the advice of an artificial intelligence on matters of morning fashion.

Love the feel of fully fashioned stockings and suspenders

Incest question

They often
Ask me
If I'm gay
With hope
And some lust...
I do not know
What to say.
If I am girl...
A must?
Yes I do
Transit
Yes I take.
Yes estrogen
Is high.
But I do never
Want a sex
Could It be so...
You mind?

Ok you
Do not know me
And see a girl
In dress...
Would you approach
Rough , with pain
And force me into bed?
I do like dresses
Do like tights
And Fashion
And Style.
I do mind questions
Of that type...
But you are always rough
And ask me why
I am hiding gay...
No laugh...
No pleasure
I feel pain.

I feel so angry
and so sad
There is no taste
No tact...
No love
No
Interest
Just
Sex
To drill
My skirt
To f***...

Yes I am mutant
Yes in dress
Not any more a man.
Yes High my body
Estrogen
And lips and breasts feel pain...
I hate your question!
Am I gay?
Not
Never
Nevermind
They still
Think
I am hiding
Truth
And ready
Bent
But shy...

No,
listen,
I was young and strong
Traped
With mad twenty bulls.
Yes they were gays
The sperm has boiled
The penises were long
The dominance
They fight fight fight
And F* and F*
Mad strong...
That eyes
Mad eyes
When you put boy
To suffer cry and tear
I never understood at all.
And never have forgiven.
I never liked sex meal
Yet
The play of dominance
Man never better been
In hole
Same breed and same romance...
Yes I survived
Nobody touched
Me ever to my back
But trust
Was lost forever
Guys
or Gays
Still same the end.
Since than
I never dreamed of sex
I wished to be a girl.
Stop asking me
It is incest.
Not delicate
At all

My Pink Fashion

Black Fashion

One of many art and fashion shows i went to last year always got my camera with me, part of my everyday itinerary

Evening all Had a busy day in the office today just relaxing with a glass or several would like to share with you my first ever opportunity last week to walk the walk instead of talk the talk behind the scenes, at the EVOL show in finland, i was so nervous had to go solo then in a group, absolutely loved it though 🫦 also starting my own venture soon, delving into the world of art, fashion and fetish what have you all been upto? Drop me a message lets chat

Morning all, feeling inspired today after a few glasses last night and chatting with some of you again the last few days, so many questions and wonderful comments, thought i would share some insight into my life over the last 2 years basically if its Art or Fashion be it, prim and proper to dark metal and rocker, across europe, myself and my team are somewhere nearby, looking after anything HR or PR, ive met some amazing people along the way, and now my 2 besties, Abbie and Megan get us into all kinds of trouble

Mowing the lawn - a body shave.
Being Frock blocked - that time when you want to dress femme but you can't.
Toe Cleavage - when your shoes dont cover all of your toes, you can see the lines between your toes, your showing 'toe cleavage' ( mentioned on a fashion slot on This Morning)
Are there anymore slang terms you know of? Add them in the comments below

Got my new shoes today. Tried them on with fashion tights and simple black dress-and had to do some upskirts of me just to be fair to those others that I like posting

Definitely be me if i was a lady back then,would stay with 1860s victorian fashion

Oh buggery bollocks... Fire at Pink Punters in Bletchley, looks like the whole roof's gone - no injuries as everyone escaped in a timely and calm fashion, but allegedly there's CCTV footage of someone lurking above where it started, as it started... 22 years of LGBTQ+ history gone in a night

Red Fashion Love This

Dream poll...

Kate was always strange.
She was designing her outfits dreaming of the magazine of the particular fashion for men... Ellegant invisibility...

And what a sudden reaction to her old photo...

I am intrigued.
What would happen if Kate will come...

Should she try?
Or it is just formal politeness to every application...

Surprise

Kate sent few photos to the fashion agency...
And to her big surprise she was invited for a photo session...

Should she try
A showroom dance?...

I like orange fashion! Really beautiful!

Spring Fun
(New Fashion Trend)

Yes new trend is to enjoy spring sun while skiing in tights... Nice and provocative.

delivering high fashion attitude

Saree Fashion

Fashion has no gender. The only limit is your own imagination #crossdressing #model #CD #trans

M'N'Skirts Magazine Fashion review 21

Temu heeled ankle boots, black.

https://share.temu.com/w8mMA6uLTwB

Despite unusual laced design they are extremely comfy for slow walks and rides. Heels around 10cm

What we should know about fully fashioned stockings.

I'm in a bit of a 1960s fashion obsession at the minute. If you could've been born - and dressing - in one era, which would you pick? (Pic is what I wish I would have looked like!)

Boohoo…..said to size down for a tight fit! That’s a stretch too far I think! Happy fashion disaster Sunday x

Black Friday finally ...
(Choclate fashion shipwreck)

On the runway of life. Still my body - but a dream to walk a fashion runway - all eyes on me experiencing what I believe is my natural beauty. Love everyones comments- in fact my creativity thrives when you comment. Let me know a look you would all might like to see. And I will make it happen. And if you chat with me I can help you make your own dream experiences. Love to all my friends. Dawn

Unraveling the Thread: How Clothing Has Been Used to Subjugate Women—and Why That’s Changing (continued)
By Chrissy

Clothing as Power—and Resistance

Throughout history, clothing has helped define who was allowed to hold power. Male garments—uniforms, suits, boots—were made for authority. Female garments were not.

This is why women were long excluded from spaces of governance and decision-making. Until just a few decades ago, women couldn’t wear pants in courtrooms or on the floor of the U.S. Senate. Power had a dress code—and that dress code was male.

Today, those lines are blurring. The rise of androgynous and gender-neutral fashion challenges the old binaries. More people are rejecting the idea that clothes must conform to “male” or “female.” Icons like Harry Styles, Elliot Page, and Indya Moore are showing that fashion can be fluid, expressive, and liberating.

Yet, as someone living with a transgender identity, I still feel the weight of those norms. When I wear a bra or slip on a dress, I’m not just “playing dress-up.” I’m aligning myself with my truth. I’m saying to the world—even if they can’t see it yet—that I know who I am.

The Future: Beyond Gendered Fabric

We are in the midst of a slow but powerful revolution. The #FreeTheNipple movement, the rise of unisex clothing lines, and the increased visibility of trans and nonbinary voices all point to one truth: gender expression cannot—and should not—be policed by fabric.

But the work isn’t done. We still live in a world where a child in a skirt is bullied, where a trans woman is judged by her ability to “pass,” and where freedom of clothing is still a privilege, not a right.

So yes, I dream of a world where clothes mean only what we want them to mean—where they’re tools of expression, not oppression. But until then, I will continue to express my identity, my truth, my womanhood—even if it’s still beneath the surface, hidden under layers. Because to wear what makes you feel like you is an act of quiet rebellion. And sometimes, rebellion begins in a closet.

What are your thoughts?

Love,
Chrissy

#crossdresser #crossdressing #CD #gurl #sissy #sissyboy #trans #tgirl #transgirl #transwoman #transgender #ladyboy #femboy #shemale

Unraveling the Thread: How Clothing Has Been Used to Subjugate Women—and Why That’s Changing
By Chrissy

Why do women have to cover their chests while men can go shirtless in public? It’s a question that may seem simple—but carries profound implications about gender, power, and control. What we wear has never been neutral. Clothing is one of the most immediate ways society tells us who we are, or who we’re allowed to be. And when it comes to gender, clothing has been weaponized—especially against women—for centuries.

But this isn’t just about history. It’s about lived experience. It’s personal.

My Own Journey Through the Fabric of Gender

As someone still exploring my own gender identity, this topic isn’t abstract. I was always a little more feminine than masculine, even as a child. For years, I repressed it—hiding behind "boy clothes" and what society expected of me. But in time, especially through the support of loving partners and close relationships, I came to embrace not only my homosexuality but something even deeper: the truth of my transgender identity. I am a woman—a female self long trapped in a male body.

Though I firmly believe clothing shouldn't define gender—because gender identity is internal, not sartorial—clothing still does carry that symbolic weight in our world today. And so, until I find the strength to publicly transition, I express my femininity in the ways that are available to me now: I wear bras and female underwear every day in secret beneath my outwardly masculine clothing. In private, I allow myself to wear skirts, dresses, lingerie, and the soft, beautiful fabrics that make me feel aligned with my true self.

It’s not about performance. It’s about presence. It’s about reclaiming what was always mine.

The History of Clothing as a Tool of Gender Control

To understand how we got here, we must look back.

Clothing began as a means of protection. But from early civilization onward, it evolved into a tool of social stratification—and eventually, a means of gender control. Ancient societies created strict visual codes for women, emphasizing modesty, submission, and containment. While men wore tunics or armor suited for movement, battle, and public life, women were wrapped, tied, bound, and veiled.

The message was clear: men moved freely through the world. Women did not.

In medieval and early modern Europe, this dichotomy hardened. Men's clothing was practical. Women’s clothing was restrictive, ornate, and often uncomfortably symbolic. Corsets, crinolines, and hoop skirts made running, fighting, or even breathing difficult. These garments weren’t just fashion—they were cages.

If you were wearing a dress, you weren’t riding into battle. You weren’t speaking in court. You weren’t commanding an army or a kingdom. You were ornamental. You were controlled.

Modesty, the Female Chest, and the Double Standard

These patterns persist today—nowhere more clearly than in the sexualization of the female chest. The fact that a man can walk down the street shirtless without a second glance, while a woman can be arrested for doing the same, speaks volumes. This isn’t about modesty. It’s about power and shame.

The female chest has been hyper-sexualized while simultaneously shrouded in taboo. This serves to objectify women and punish them at the same time. Even breastfeeding in public is controversial in many places—seen not as natural or maternal, but as obscene.

This double standard is part of a larger system that says women must be desirable but modest, visible but not too loud, strong but not threatening. And clothing is the vehicle through which these contradictory demands are enforced.

Clothing as Power—and Resistance

Throughout history, clothing has helped define who was allowed to hold power. Male garments—uniforms, suits, boots—were made for authority. Female garments were not.

This is why women were long excluded from spaces of governance and decision-making. Until just a few decades ago, women couldn’t wear pants in courtrooms or on the floor of the U.S. Senate. Power had a dress code—and that dress code was male. To be continued in next post...

Love,
Chrissy
#crossdresser #crossdressing #CD #gurl #sissy #sissyboy #trans #tgirl #transgirl #transwoman #transgender #ladyboy #femboy #shemale

Heading home now time for a outfit fashion show xx

Torture Garden is on my mind. Coming to the Los Angeles area butt once per year (normally, rare exceptions occur), and I'm stressing about my latex. Please fashion
Gods and Goddesses, see that inmy rubber is delivered without issue by mid November.

---

If you're in the UK, I'm jealous AF that TG exists monthly for your masochistic pleasures and sadistic delights. If you didn't know, now you do, so go! Lmk his fabulous the night is and spread the word. Samesies for the annual Glitter festival. Jealous!!

---

Pics from past TG events in LA, some with a hint of my partner as shared from fetlife for permission purposes.

Old fashion lingerie
#sissy #feminization #crossdresser #nylon

shauna fashions by fag1

Hello beautiful people! I’m Kirsty—I’ve been dressing for years (mostly in private), but I’m finally stepping out of the shadows to join this amazing community. Time to embrace the fun and friendship properly!

I’d love to:

Swap tips on fashion, makeup, or confidence boosts

Chat about the little joys (or challenges) of dressing

Connect with kindred spirits—tell me about YOU!

No pics from me yet (baby steps!), but I’m all for cheering each other on. So… what’s your go-to outfit that makes you feel unstoppable? Or just say hi—let’s be friends!

Oooh one of my new skirts has arrived today I tried it on and it fits beautifully and it feels amazing. Had it on most of the day Let’s just say it’s fitted in a classy but slutty way. Definitely need the vagina pants to hide those lumps and bumps!!
I can feel a fashion show coming on soon with lots of pics #crossdresser #slut #sissy

Across Femsea in Aqualung ...

For me CD is like wearing aqualung... If you want to see and feel the world of exotic creatures or even life of sharks you wear it and try to be unnoticed... To dissolve is an art of convincing others that their suspicion or doubt is wrong...Fashion allows a lot of distructors... Nice legs and short dress saves from defects of the face to be noticed straight... They might remain unnoticed if your eyes are strong enough to respond to a wondering looks of others with calm smile.
For me it is a travel in unknow waters
Whether it helps or not I do not know.It does not cure conflict of different connections between my male and female neurons in my mosaic brain...But it yes allow them to live some time in the peace of femenine role... Some needs more radical TV approach, I remain on my shore but sweem in the femsea.
And yes it opens you some doors. At least to good tailoring as only since I start buying F-jeans with M-zip I feel happy as this aqualung happen to be much better made than anything before to enjoy your body. There is plenty CD recepies that many men professions would happily use if there would be not a bullying opinion of abnormality in the average society Strings in prostate disfunctions , tights in cold winter, walking practicies,

Why do I want sweam in my skirt Aqualang...? I have not found a good answer.
As difficult as why you go solo in montains? Why you go solo across a femsea...
Few understanding mermmaids would remain neutral, the rest perhaps sharkly atack me as a suffragette...

Yes I am a suffragé... It is not about voting or right to wear tights in public Rather just attempt to be. I am not doing more than wear parts of costume. That once was mens...If my behaivior is blue or pink for society I truly could not help it.
Even without I was a white bird not a normal for them...so nothing new.
Yes we are different Different brain, too complex for monosex to understand emotions. I just suffrage that my emotions are legitimate...
Do I protest against femworld? I am afraid so. No sarcasm.If ask myself do I want to be like them Often my inner voice says "No I could not" No, it is not what I travel for in aqualung accross those dangerous waters...

Do I want to return to rough menocean...? I could always but I have never felt right there, My waves were different and I surfed in tights not without.Was I expelled ? Yes from both Menocean and Femsea... Into the depth of monsters and glitter.

All I wanted was a dress design
All I got was just a gay may sign
All was left were just my only tights
All ahead are the lonely nights...
I dont care
Not in May Day Cry...
Yes I dare
I dont know why...
I will wear yes
my heels and skirt
I just dare
I dont care
What
I do sweam in
Tights
In my aqualung
I do dream
In nights...
Just to give
My love...

Old fashioned look.

Hello everyone!

I’m Zane Knyte — I’m a writer and part of the LGBTQ+ and crossdressing community. I joined here because I love connecting with people who understand what it’s like to live true to yourself, even when it’s not easy.

I write stories about people like us — about self-expression, gender, identity, and all the hidden struggles and beautiful moments that come with it. I believe our voices matter, and our stories deserve to be told.

Outside of writing, I’m always up for a good chat about life, fashion, books, or just how your day is going. I’d love to get to know you all better — feel free to say hi!

miss sissy shuna fashions lol

I've been single for a long time, and would love to meet someone, but I'd love to go on a few dates first and get to know them before jumping in the sack, it seems everyone is the opposite and has sex first then get to know them, maybe I'm old fashioned

TO SKIRT, or NOT TO SKIRT...

To skirt , or not to skirt - that is the question:
Whether 'tis miss is in her mind to suffer
The tune and turns of outrageous fashion,

Or to hide secret flower,
Hide it against a sea of troubles
Or by exposing end'm in admire
To lie? —to skirt ? No more; and why?
For what?

All the hairy cocktail-sausage wavers, you'll get an angry face and reported, but why? - well, because this isn't a porn site, it's a social site for crossdressers and trans women, and because of pictures like you post it's been put on a porn site blacklist, so mobile users can't access it, and in the near future the Online Safety Act will make everyone who uses it register with government ID and leave them trackable and traceable, at a time when there's plenty of hostility from those in governement against the trans and cd community - basically you're fucking things up for everyone who wants to use the site in a civilised fashion, and acting like a selfish creep - you can go use a porn site, and not cause us problems. Does that explain?
read the rules.

Good afternoon my unconventional friends. Just time for Bonbon's daily poll xxx

If you were able to dress in whatever fashion you could without fear of judgement in your daily life, would you.......

Unfinished

No rings,
No nails on Kate's hand
Is it beginning or the end?
Is it just madness or
Night stand...?
Appeal ?
Fashion pretend?
Unfinished ? finished ?in the shed...?
She never felt, alas, in Love
She lost her wedding lacy glove...