And the answer: has been deleted by Lansing probably thorough embarrassment but dug it out of the way back machine
There’s a U.S. senator who can’t speak publicly unless he’s wearing pantyhose. He was a patient of Dr. William Stayton, a psychologist and leading expert on cross-dressing. “Underneath his blue suit and tie he wore pantyhose and a bra and women’s underwear,” Stayton told me in a recent interview. “He was always worried somebody would lift his pant leg and see his pantyhose. But it was the only way he could calmly speak before the Senate.”
So, one man’s Prozac is another man’s pantyhose. So what? My boyfriend compared the senator’s cross-dressing to his own penchant for hats. “When I wear my Henschel High Roller I have a totally different outlook. You swagger a bit, you just know you’re cool. I take the hat off, and I’m just another guy.”
Nobody worries about a guy in a hat unless they’re in a bank and the hat happens to be a ski mask. And how about all those female executives who “dress for success” in male business drag? Maybe because we identify femininity with weakness but value masculine strength and power, nobody looks squinty-eyed at a woman in pinstripes -- or gives a second thought to women like me, who’ve been donning Calvin Klein boxer briefs for years.
No, I haven’t been wearing them on the senatorial sly, under my clothes. They‘re the workout shorts I march around in at the gym. And don’t forget that sexy staple of chick flicks, the “morning after” shot of the woman drinking coffee while wearing the man’s big white shirt as a nightie. Of course, aside from specialty e-tailers like manties.com, nobody would dream of selling men lace-trimmed, day-of-the-week undies in hibiscus pink -- or making movies where Keanu, Matthew or Will walks out in the woman’s lavender teddy and matching maribou mules.
As your husband keeps insisting, just because a guy comes out of the closet in the wife’s panties it doesn’t mean he’s gay. While the public face of cross-dressing is flaming drag queens like Ru Paul, most cross-dressers are straight. In a 1997 survey of cross-dressers by Richard F. Doctor and Virginia Prince, 87 percent said they were heterosexual. Stayton estimates the number to be “at least 95 percent.” Not only that, 60 percent of Doctor and Prince’s respondents were married, and 69 percent had kids. In an earlier study by Prince, 19 percent reported playing high school or college football. At least one married cross-dresser played professional basketball. That, of course, would be Dennis Rodman, who goes through more false eyelashes and feather boas than the chorus line at the Tropicana.
Cross-dressers like your husband typically spend much of their week looking like the average Joe, not the not-so-average Jacqueline. Most enjoy being men, and have no interest in a sex change. Stayton, who counsels many of them, says they’re often in very male-oriented occupations – like fireman, trucker, or high-powered businessman -- they just have a feminine side they need to express to feel whole. For some, this comes out as early as age 5, and no, it’s not a phase, although they may do it more or less at different times in their lives. Some do find it erotic, especially at first, but many, like the senator, simply find it a pretty way to relieve tension. (Think of it as a frilly alternative to yoga or the after-work martini.)
Of course, a husband’s cross-dressing tends to have a less-than-soothing effect on a wife, especially if she comes home expecting her husband and walks in on some poorly assembled June Cleaver. If she can’t get over the betrayal, or just plain can’t deal, it’s probably the end of the marriage. She’ll blame her husband, but Stayton points to society’s “awfulizing” of cross-dressing, causing the cross-dresser to feel shame and guilt for expressing the full range of himself as a person -- and leading to secrecy and the issues that ensue. In your case, unless it stops your husband’s life -- if he quits his job and stays home admiring himself in the mirror in bouffant wigs -- what’s the problem? Sure, there could come a day when he starts stretching out your angora sweaters, or worse yet, using up all your tampons. Until then, whatever floats your boat, or makes your skirt fly up -- or your husband’s.