By: Barrie James

For many of us, Halloween is a National Holiday. We can dress en femme, and no matter how good (or bad) we look, no one cares. We can go anywhere, whether we look like a hooker, nurse, witch, maid, bride or cheerleader.

And when Halloween comes on a Sunday, we can even get away with dressing en femme for an entire weekend! After all, there are parties Friday, Saturday and Sunday. It's a crossdresser's dream. Nirvana. Inner peace. Heaven. It's a time when our fantasies can come true.

On the other hand, there is reality, referred to by many of us as, "My spouse." Few of us have truly understanding spouses when it comes to us wanting to wear garter belts, hose, heels, dresses, and sexy lingerie, especially when we want to complete our "costumes" with a full manicure, make-over, and a $100 wig. Cheeze, what's the problem?!

Well, I'm one of those husbands/men whose wife isn't ecstatic when I become Barrie. For several years, we have been "working through" my crossdressing situation, learning from each other, compromising, being honest, and above all, communicating.

My wife and I love each other. We do all sorts of things together. We share many interests, we trust each other, and every week we go on a date (just the two of us) to talk, express our feelings, or just have a beer together. In fact, our only major point of conflict in our 12-plus years of marriage has been my crossdressing.

A few years back, during one of our dates, we reached a compromise regarding my crossdressing. She didn't want me dressing en femme around the house, or even in Kansas City, but she had no problem with me dressing en femme while I was out of town on business. Since I go out of town quite a bit (because of my business), I agreed that this would be an acceptable solution to the problem she would have with me crossdressing in Kansas City.

For the past four years we've each held up the ends of our "deal." Then, this October (like every other October) we started getting invitations to Halloween parties. The total ended up being four on Saturday, and one on Sunday. We decided there were three we absolutely had to go to, either because of business reasons, or because of long-standing friendships.

As in the past, I was prepared for my wife and I to attend as anything from two playing cards, crayons (we both hated those costumes), or flies, to pumpkins, a PB&J sandwich, or Trekies. All this thinking taught me a valuable lesson; I shouldn't think, because this story is about what really ended up happening.

My wife called the hostess of one of the parties we had decided to attend, and asked her what the party would be like. "Will everyone be in costume?" "Yes." "If you were going to describe your party, what word would you use?" "Outrageous," she said. My wife said, "Okay, great! We'll be there. Thanks a lot, Joni," and then she hung up.

"Joni says their party is going to be outrageous. I think you should go as a woman, and I should go as a man." I almost fell off my chair! "Are you serious?" I asked. "I've never been more serious," she said. "Let's go figure out how we're going to do this."

A little while later, we sat down at our kitchen table to make a list of the things we were going to need. It quickly became very apparent that I didn't need as much as she did. My list read, "Feather mask, and a cigarette holder." She was going to need a three-piece suit (vest and all), cigars, shoes, a belt, hat and some other things. I supplied a nice chain watch for her vest, a tie, cuff links, and a tie pin.

Well, Halloween weekend finally arrived. On Saturday, the first party was to begin at 7:30 PM, so my wife suggested I start getting ready at about 5:30, since it would take me longer, and I had to pick up the sitter. I was easy to convince.

I had shaved my legs on Thursday, so all I really had to do was apply my make-up, get dressed, do my nails, and make sure my wig was going to be cooperative (it was). I wore a long black skirt, black sparkly top, off-black hose with a seam up the back, black suede heels, and the best jewelry I had. I also wore some of my sexy lingerie to get more into character. I was in heaven. I felt so feminine.

My wife looked great, too. She had found a three-piece suit at a thrift shop, as well as all the other things she needed. She had to take the trousers in a good four inches in the waistline (they still looked a bit large to me). But the jacket and vest fit beautifully. We also gave her a five o'clock shadow, a mustache, and combed her hair just like one of the guys. The cigars were the perfect finishing touch.

Since neither one of our kids had ever seen me en femme, that was really our biggest concern. As it turned out, it was an unfounded concern. They had no problem at all. In fact, my 10-year old daughter couldn't wait to go with me to pick up the sitter. She was totally impressed at how much I looked like a woman.

Driving in heels is always fun, but everything went fine as we pulled into our sitter's driveway. When Regan got into the car, she didn't even recognize me. She thought I was one of the neighbor mothers sent over to pick her up, and that my wife and I were at home getting ready for the parties. Of course, my daughter wasn't going to say anything. She just sat in the back seat giggling.

Finally, Regan said, "What's so funny with you today?" But, my daughter didn't say a word. At last, a few blocks from the house, I said, "Regan, it's me." You should have seen the shocked look! She said, "I thought you were someone else! Oh, my god!" At that, we all began laughing. When we got to the house, I had to "model" for her. She was as impressed as a 16-year old can get, I guess.

My wife was ready to go when we arrived inside, shocking Regan again. "You guys look great!" she exclaimed. My wife pulled a cigar from her pocket, did a little Groucho thing, and said, "Thank you. I'm taking the little lady out for an evening on the town. We'll be home around 2:00 AM. Take care of things while we're gone." And we left.

The evening was great fun. Absolutely no one recognized us at any of the parties. At the first party, this one guy kept getting my drinks for me, because he thought I was a woman. I told him the truth right before we left. His look of confusion was priceless. He was a nice guy, a gentleman.

At the second party, there was a five-piece band, and about 500 people, all of whom (except for maybe a dozen people) were in costume. The people throwing the party, I've known for 17 years. But, when we arrived, they didn't recognize us either! Finally, after about 20 minutes, I told them who I was. A few people took pictures of me and my wife together as well as individually.

At this party, my wife and I danced a bunch of songs, but what was really wild was that on two different occasions, guys cut in, and began dancing with me! One of the roving cameramen at the party spent an entire song taping me while I danced. I had never before received that much attention while en femme. In addition, two other times, while I was standing, talking with friends, men asked me to dance again! So, I did. It was really flattering. About an hour later, however, they realized I wasn't as female as they thought. I ended up being one of the finalists in the costume contest. I didn't win, but I did come in fourth.

After this party, we made it to Joni's. "Outrageous" would have been a mild way to describe it. The video cameras were going as soon as we got into the house. At first, neither Joni nor her husband recognized us. But after about 15 minutes Joni came up to us while we were dancing, and said, "I know you guys! Wow! Great costumes." We were loving it.

There was a juke box in the living room with nothing but hits on it. People were dancing, eating, and being crazy. We stayed for a couple hours before we began to poop out. We had been partying for well over 6 hours, and as much as I love dancing in heels, I had never danced THIS long in them. My buns and thighs were burning.

As we were leaving Joni's, she said to me, "We'll have to include you in our next girl's-night-out." I said, "Just let me know when." I don't know if it will ever come to pass, but that would be great time, I'm sure.

When we got home, my wife and I sat down to just talk and unwind. We were both still dressed in our "costumes." My wife said she was surprised at how much attention I had received, and how many people thought I was a woman. I said I was, too. Then she said, "This was really fun for you, wasn't it? I told her, "Yes. Thanks for your understanding."

Then I asked her, "Why did you decide it would be okay for me to dress en femme here in Kansas City? What about our agreement?" She just smiled. "It's time to go to bed," she said. "Are you going to be able to get those nails off?" I looked at my long, polished nails, and thought, "Damn. I knew there was something I forgot to get today at the drug store."

Monday morning I sent a beautiful bouquet of flowers to her at the office with a special note. Guess what she suggested next weekend? My first girl's night out!