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[Upfront] The Month
[The Buzz] Club News
[Viewpoint] Paying Your Dues
[Bits & Pieces] Diane At Large
[A CD Eye for the Arts] Ladies and Gentlemen
[The New Yorker] High-Heel Neil - part II
[Fashionista] Women's Skirts, Men's Skirts
[Meeting Minutes] March 10, 2007
[Last Laugh] Skirting the Issue

[Upfront]
THE MONTH

There is "paying your dues" and then there is "paying your dues." Our straight-talking chairman, Gloria Fenton, is up first to explain.

Diane Frank attends Cleveland's new LGBT health clinic grand opening, basks in hip Mary McFadden couture, and takes a bite of the "Big Apple."

Art: 1975. NYC. Warhol. Drag.

Neil's back with part two of his "New Yorker" story of high flying, high society and high heels.

Men's skirts. Again? Gloria Fenton, has a few suggestions for this round of haute-couture designers.

There's humor and more!

Elaine

I continue tracking La Femme Silhouette web statistics and last month we posted record monthly page loads. Thanks readership!

[Bits & Pieces]
DIANE AT LARGE

By Diane Frank

There were three outstanding events in my life this month. (Well, three that I’ll share with you dear readers!)

MetroHealth Pride Clinic
The first event, the grand opening of the MetroHealth Pride Clinic, is important to many in our larger community. I’ve anticipated this clinic for years as one of the leading and founding doctors, Henry Ng, has been dropping in on Transfamily, collecting information to sort out what our major health care needs are and how they might be managed. I was pleased to see that their mission includes all the LGBT communities, as I worried that the T* population was too small to sustain more than a few hours a week clinic. The arrival of the clinic was celebrated by a party at Bounce, where I made a number of connections with old friends that will be useful in offering author Helen Boyd and her TG husband Betty a good reception when they visit Cleveland this May.

At the party, they also offered a great deal of literature. Among the take-aways were HIV related items aimed at gay and separately at T* communities. I will have appropriate documents reproduced on the website as time permits. Here are the subject headings for a 10 point topic list that many T* people should discuss with their health care providers.

1. Access to health care
2. Health history
3. Hormones
4. Cardiovascular health
5. Cancer
6. STDs and safe sex
7. Alcohol and tobacco use
8. Depression/Anxiety
9. Injectable silicon
10. Fitness

The source of the list was Dr. Becky Allison, well known in TS circles, and I should hasten to note that most of these items are only of indirect interest to AO members and spouses.

But, having a local health clinic where men with hairless legs and underarms would not be remarked on, nor would what one wore be remarked on, could relieve a great deal of anxiety among some who are closeted, but vulnerable do to personal choices.

It was an amusing coincidence that the one person of T* origin who showed up from a long ways away, was specifically hoping to make a connection with someone in Cleveland who would do silicon injections on her (procedure number nine). This was the first time I’d knowingly met someone with illegally injected silicone, and I have to say that we didn’t connect on any level. Our worlds were about as far apart as possible, even though we had superficial similarities in clothing.

New York City
My second biggy was visiting my cousin in NY for Passover, and while there, getting to meet Helen and Betty for the first time. In order to make that work, I gritted my teeth and came out to my cousin….who while shocked was supportive. And, when she called her husband got on the phone to assure me that he was cool with it too. So I had the pleasure of getting nicely dressed and descending to the lobby of the high rent co-op where the doorman hailed a cab for me. A glamorous young woman dressed in a black ball gown and expensive hair scooted over to make room for me on the bench while we waited. Was she so wonderfully put together for the Opera? No, a birthday party! Ah, New York. There is just no place like it!

I rendezvoused with the My Husband Betty crowd at a restaurant called East of Eighth, located just where it says, at about 23rd Street and 8th Avenue, in the Village. My disappointment of the evening was that the food was not as good as I expected. When you’re used to sushi-grade seared wasabi encrusted tuna from a certain Boston area barrister’s seafood establishment, a thin bit of tuna cooked to tuna salad flavor and texture isn’t enjoyable. But, the people were enjoyable, and I got to meet other people I’ve corresponded with besides Helen and Betty. I’m delighted to say that they are as clever and thoughtful in person as they are on the internet.

After dinner we walked over to a place that by day, is a well known German restaurant and by night is a t* meat market. I was surprised that it was so small, no larger than the local hangouts. There was a wedding shower/bachelorette party going on and I was persuaded to take pictures of them and thus earned having someone buy me a drink. The place was crawling with admirers, and they generally seemed to be focused on one absolutely stunning Asian woman wearing a very classic evening gown and gray fox stole. She would disappear with them for 15 minutes at a time and then reappear fixing her hair.

And yes, some annoying fellow in his early thirties who had one too many tried to pick me up with some line about having been in the army with me. His intentions were made quite clear when he left with another of the Asian beauties on his arm and didn’t come back. I’m writing these details because I think there are people out there who don’t have any feel for what this part of transworld is about or may be disbelieving. The other reason is to be clear that I have been to these sorts of places, and I’m not making things up…nor am I totally lacking in sympathy for the denizens.

There is an image frozen in my mind of the woman in the stole being dragged away by some guy, and her turning away looking back at her friends and reaching out a gloved arm towards them. At that moment I really wondered what gave her joy in life, and what she hoped for in the future.

Couture
Finally, I spent an enjoyable afternoon with a friend from my book circle attending a lecture on Mary McFadden couture at Ursuline College that went along with an exhibit of her couture pieces. McFadden is well known for her pleated gowns. Generally made of polyester, and sometimes silk by a hot molding process the pleats are small, not sharp, and permanent and give a wonderful grace and flow to a garment.

I have two skirts with similar pleating and they are fun and move well when in motion and hold shape nicely when standing still. Much of McFadden’s creations were ethnically or historically inspired. Word is that there will be a reception sometime later this year when Ms. McFadden will make an appearance herself.

That’s all for this month. I’ve not going to say publicly what the schedule is for Helen and Betty visiting in May…but tentative locations so far are Loganberry Books, Bounce Nightclub, and church on the West Side, a coffee house and another bookstore. I’m falling behind here, because my day job has become so consuming I’ve been unable to sneak off to make the key phone calls.

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[The New Yorker]
HIGH-HEEL NEIL - Part II

High-Heel Neil-Part I

January 16, 1995

At some of the finer spots frequented by Southern society, one Republican businessman stands out for his love of adventure -- and a well-cut dress.

BY JOHN BERENDT

Part II

Like Cargile's friends, I had always heard it said that the great majority of transvestites are heterosexual, but I couldn't understand that. Homosexual drag queens made a lot more sense to mc. Of course, I had never actually met a heterosexual transvestite Nor, I thought, was it likely that I ever would. Such people, I assumed, did their cross-dressing in private and, if they went out in public, made every effort to be undetectable.

But here was Neil Cargile -- probably the most uninhibited, socially prominent cross-dresser in America since Edward Hyde served, in drag, as the governor of New York and New Jersey in the early eighteenth century. Governor Hyde explained that he wore dresses in order to represent the monarch, Queen Anne, as faithfully as possible. It occurred to me that perhaps Neil Cargile, open as he was, might be willing to shed some light on the mystery of cross-dressing, and, with this in mind, I called him in Palm Beach in early August. He said that he would be happy to tell me all he knew, but that it wasn't much. His voice had a gentle Tennessee twang, and he spoke with the measured calm of a commercial-airline pilot addressing his passengers before takeoff. He told me he would be coming to New York in a couple of weeks to discuss financing for gold-dredging operations he was setting up in South America. We could meet then. He would be travelling with his girlfriend, Dorothy Koss.

"Will you be bringing your dresses with you?" I asked.

"Hell, yes," he said. "I love wearing that stuff."

At the appointed hour on Saturday night, I knocked on the door of Cargile's suite in the Algonquin Hotel, and in a few moments he stood before me -- a towering, broad-shouldered figure, six feet four in heels. He had on a wide-brimmed straw hat, rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses, dangling blue earrings, and a tight blue-sequinned dress cut so short that it barely covered the crotch of his panty hose while displaying, at full length, a remarkably shapely pair of legs. A modest amount of hair was plainly visible on his chest and arms, but his panty hose were opaque enough to keep the hair on his legs from showing. He was smiling, and yet his smile -- his whole face, in fact -- was oddly out of focus, because his makeup was unevenly applied. His nose and cheeks had a blotchy coating of powder, as if he had swatted his face six or seven times with a powder puff and let it go at that. While shaving, he had missed a sizable tuft of whiskers directly beneath his nostrils, and this tuft, dusted with powder, floated like a tiny cloud under his nose, further blurring the contours of his face. Bright-red lipstick had been scrawled in haphazard strokes along the line of his lips, and generous splotches of rouge gave his cheeks a fevered blush. He shook my hand with a firm grip and then turned and walked back into the room, pulling his hem down with both hands. "I think Dorothy shortened this durn thing too much," he said, chuckling.

Dorothy came out of the bathroom. She was a pretty blonde with wavy hair, smooth skin, and makeup that was applied as artfully as Cargile's was not. Her fuchsia dress had ruffles of silk organza at the shoulders, creating an effect that was somewhat youthful for her forty-odd years. The sight of Cargile tugging at his hem made her laugh. 'You wouldn't wear it at all when it was longer," she said. "Now it's just the right length to show off your legs. Trust me." She reached up and rubbed at a blot of excess lipstick on his upper lip. "I hate to see you smear up your face."

Cargile held still while she wiped his lip. "Dorothy wants me to look like a real woman," he said. "But I'm just a wild-lookin' man. Aren't I, Sweet Pea? She's my fashion consultant. She picks my clothes and designs my hats and my Elton John glasses. And she's baaad She encourages me to be wilder and wilder." "Well, you know how I feel about it, SheNeil," she said. "If you're going to take the trouble to dress up, why look like a frumpy old matron?"

Just as we were about to leave for dinner, the telephone rang. Cargile removed his left earring and answered it. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed. "That river's full of gold," he told the caller. "And right now the Venezuelans have got men out there panning for it with shovels. The computer-controlled dredge I designed can do in one hour what it takes a thousand men all day to do by hand. No kidding And the beauty of it is we get to: keep the gold. We give the Venezuelans ten per cent of what we sell it for, and then we take a fourteen-per-cent mining-depletion write-off on our U.S. taxes. We're getting offers to do the same thing worldwide, you know." Cargile pulled at his dress, which was riding up on his thighs. "Yeah. It's all outlined in the papers I sent you ... Sure ... Great! How's the wife? ... The Flu? Listen, tell her to take four times the dose of whatever the doctor Prescribes. Knock the hell out of it. That's what I do. What the hell do doctors know, anyway? They're much too cautious."

Cargile hung up and put his earring back on. I asked him what the man on the other end of the line would have thought if he had been able to see as well l as hear him. "He'd have dropped dead, he said.

We walked to the elevator, Cargile moving with a bouncy, athletic stride. As we passed through the Algonquin's oak-panelled lobby, I became aware of heads turning suddenly and of conversations halted in midsentence. I quickened my step to put a little distance between my two companions and me -- just enough to appear unattached to them but not so much that they would notice. I thought with relief how lucky it was that I had hired a car. The three of us would not have to roam the streets looking for a taxi.

In the car, Cargile gave me an amused look. "Dorothy, I think our friend here is completely freaked out by us," he said. "But, hell, that's par for the course. I've had people cross the street rather than walk alongside me when I had a dress on.

"I used to feel the same way," Dorothy said, but I got over it. When I first met Neil, he was wearing a navy blazer and white pants. He was very handsome, and he had the look of a man who was used to getting his way, so I fell for him. We started dating, and for the first few weeks I didn't know anything about the cross-dressing. He broke it to me gradually. He told me that sometimes his friends liked to dress him up in wild clothes. He said he hoped I could handle it. Then, one night, he appeared at my door in a blazer, kilt, and heels, and I was stunned. We continued to date, though, and I can remember standing out on my balcony one evening waiting for him and thinking, Soon I will hear the click, click, click of his high heels coming up the patio steps. This is bizarre. I don't know if I want this. But I really liked him, and eventually I came around to accepting his cross-dressing. I stopped being embarrassed. I wish he didn't cross-dress, but I won't try to change him. To me, he's a combination of Crocodile Dundee, Rambo, and Jezebel."

I had reserved a table at the Tribeca Grill, and the hip downtown crowd there took Cargile in stride. The headwaiter led us to our table without seeming to notice anything out of the ordinary. Our waitress brought us menus and took our drink orders. She winked at Cargile. "I'd kill for legs like yours," she said.

Over dinner, Cargile spoke easily about his cross-dressing. "Men are forced to wear a uniform that never changes," he said. "A jacket and trousers. Women can wear anything they want, and it's O.K. I happen to be more comfortable in a dress than in a blazer and slacks. And any way I'm a big showoff. I have a motto: If your aren't doing something different, you aren't doing anything at all. That's the way I've always lived. When I was a kid, I had five airplanes in my back yard. Nobody else had any. When my cross-dressing got to be too much for my wife, she made me go to a psychiatrist. So I went to see Dr. Joseph Fishbein, an associate professor of psychiatry at Vanderbilt University. The first thing Fishbein asked me was did I like men. I said no. Then he told me some of his colleagues were cross-dressers, too. They'd come home at night and put on their wives' clothes. And they were doctors! I got the impression that Fishbein didn't think there was very much wrong with me. Anyhow, I never went back."

I asked how the rest of his family felt about it.

"My brother's a born-again Christian, so of course he hates it, and my teen-age son, who's a big athlete, has a tough time understanding it. But my daughter handles it pretty well. Hell, she gave me a makeup kit for Christmas one year."

Were there any places he would not go in drag?

"I wouldn't go to church in a dress, and I wouldn't go to the Belle Meade Country Club or the Palm Beach Bath and Tennis Club in drag, either," he said. "Those places are hallowed ground. But I'm not afraid of going anywhere in drag, if that's what you mean. I know it blows people away, but that's part of what makes it fun. Of course, once in a while I've had to set people straight. Like, one night a couple of years ago I walked into a bar and heard a guy mutter 'Faggot.' Well, I just turned to him and said as nicely as I could, 'I'm Neil Cargile, and I don't think we've met.' I put out my hand, and he shook it. Now, I'm a mechanical engineer, and I work with my hands a lot. So, I squeezed that man's hand. Hard. I crunched. I cracked. And I kept on squeezing until his eyes bugged out and his body writhed and he let out the most pitiful gasp of pain. I haven't had any trouble with him since." Cargile held out his hands. They were broad and beefy, and unadorned with nail polish.

I asked Cargile several times during dinner, phrasing it differently each time, if he knew why, deep down, he was compelled to wear women's clothes.

"Everybody likes to make things psychologically complicated," he replied at one point, "but there's nothing to it. For me, it has nothing to do with sex. I don't get turned on by it. It's just fun." He suggested that we continue the discussion the next day over lunch, and I agreed.

"How about that restaurant in Central Park?" he said. "I've always wanted to go there. Tavern on the Green." On any Sunday, Tavern on the Green is a tourist Mecca, drawing as many as fifteen hundred people. I pictured Cargile strutting into their midst wearing God knows what, and the thought gave me anticipatory pangs.

"But it's so crowded," I protested. "And so noisy."

"Sounds perfect!" Cargile exclaimed before I could suggest another place. "Dorothy will love it!"

"Tell you what, Neil," I said. "Why don't you come dressed in men's clothes? That will give me a chance to see your other persona."

"Good idea," he said. "I will."


-- to be continued

[Fashionista]
WOMEN’S SKIRTS, MEN’S SKIRTS

By Gloria Fenton

I have heard that fashion designers are going to come out with another attempt at male skirts. Personally, I hope they are successful, but I doubt they will be. Of any picture of a male model that I have seen previously where the model was wearing a male skirt, the guy looked ridiculous.

I can’t figure out why the fashion designers, with all kinds of styles, materials, accessories, money, and choice of models, can’t come up with at least one guy that looks good in a skirt. To me, it is a sign that they are not really trying to market a skirt for men, or find a guy who looks good in one. These designers could easily go to the downtown clubs of almost any big city, on almost any given weekend, and find lots of guys in skirts and dresses, who look very good in them.

Even I, in years past, have been told that I looked too good in a skirt or a dress, and it was meant very seriously. So how hard should it be for a fashion designer to design a good-looking skirt, and find a guy who looked good in it?

Men’s dress socks held up by men’s sock garters and wingtips do not go with any skirt, no matter who wears it. Guys legs that are skinny and bony, or legs that are muscle-bound, or legs that are very hairy, generally provide more laughter than appreciation. And since so many guys, already wear women’s skirts and dresses, and can and do already look good in them, why re-design a skirt for men?

If I were a fashion designer really trying to put skirts on men, I would also look for more flattering accessories for men to wear with the skirt. Now, I am not talking about dressing the male models as women, but at least make the accessories to the skirt more logical for a man to look good wearing. Sean Connery has looked quite good in a kilt, as have other men. Men I have seen in kilts for Scottish games have also looked handsome and masculine. So why can’t other skirt designs be adapted to suit men?

My suggestion is to start with materials, colors, and patterns that guys do wear, instead of exotic creations. To start off with, most men do not look good in men’s shorts. So why not help men to look better in shorts. It would be easier then to get them to consider a skirt. Also, make men’s shoes and boots more attractive than just functional.

If ordinary guys can, on their own, find and wear women’s clothes and accessories and look good in them (such as skirts), then why can’t designers do it for the masses?

[Meeting Minutes]
ALPHA OMEGA SOCIETY - March 10, 2007

Eight members were present, and the meeting began at 8:00 p.m. Discussion topics included the following:

New website design. One proposal has been received. It was reviewed by the officers. Due to the amount of money involved, Diane Frank was asked if a second quote could be obtained before a decision is made.

Helen Boyd promotion work. Ms. Boyd will be in Cleveland over Memorial Day weekend as part of her book tour. Alpha Omega, primarily through the efforts of Diane Frank, is working to set up book signings and other activities which would be “transgender” friendly events. Abigail volunteered to work on promotion of these events in the Pittsburgh area, and Denise volunteered to work on promotion at Cleveland Clinic and Franklin Circle.

Collection of the meeting fee was held until the status of our treasurer could be determined.

Election of Officers: After some discussion, it was decided that the positions would be modified. Membership and Outreach would be one office and Communications, responsible for the web site and newsletter would be another office.

Director of Finance:
Denise was nominated by Abigail, and seconded by Diane Frank. Denise declined the nomination. Abigail was nominated by Elaine, and seconded by Kathleen. No other nominations were made for this position. Abigail was elected to this position by a unanimous vote.

Secretary:
Kathleen was asked if she would continue taking meeting minutes, which she agreed to.

Director of Outreach & Membership:
Diane Frank was nominated by Denise, seconded by Elaine and Abigail. No other nominations were made for this position. Diane was elected to this position by a unanimous vote.

Director of Family & Member Support:
Kathleen was nominated by Diane Frank, seconded by Jean and Denise. No other nominations were made for this position. Kathleen was elected to this position by a unanimous vote.

Director of Communications:
Elaine was nominated by Diane Frank, seconded by Denise. No other nominations were made for this position. Some discussion was held about the work the web site would entail. Diane Frank, who is currently responsible for this area, has agreed to provide assistance to the new Director as needed. Elaine was elected to this position by a unanimous vote.

Chair of the Board:
Gloria Fenton was nominated by Denise, seconded by Abigail. No other nominations were made for this position. Gloria was elected to this position by unanimous vote.

Since the elections resulted in a new Director of Finance, Gloria agreed to contact the out-going Director, Diane Brennan, to turn over all monies and records for Alpha Omega.

Kathleen moved the meeting be adjourned. Abigail seconded.

Minutes respectfully submitted by Kathleen Fenton

[Last Laugh]
SKIRTING THE ISSUE

Group Information
The Alpha Omega Society is a non-profit social support group for heterosexual crossdressers and their wives or partners. We primarily serve Cleveland and nearby Northeast Ohio communities.

Publication Information
This newsletter is copyright 2007 by The Alpha Omega Society. All rights reserved. Articles and information contained in this newsletter may be reprinted by other non-profit crossdresser organizations with advance permission of the author and provided that proper credit is given to author and source. The opinions or statements contained in this newsletter are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Alpha Omega.

Contributions of articles are welcomed, but may be altered in the editing process, with the author’s intent retained, or may be rejected, whether solicited or not. We will exchange newsletters with any other similar group.

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