Betty's Pub 20.1
Main Menu => Old inactive posts. => Topic started by: andyg0404 on August 21, 2015, 06:21:27 PM
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Hi,
I got this link from the German site. I didn’t know what to make of this 23 second clip so I Googled the title and found that it was a short film from Sundance. Then I found the whole film in two links. The second link is the discussion between father and son about wearing the dress.
Little Dad | Film 2012 | SXSW
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTwkxQDS1Dg
http://jasonkravits.net/little_dad_01.html
http://jasonkravits.net/little_dad_02.html
Andy G.
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i have just watched the short film on the internet.It would appear that the father is upset but we do not know if it is a phase or what
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Excellent job again Andy G. thanks for that video it was interesting and the young boy is a very good actor. I enjoyed watching that twice to see if he falters anywhere but he seems very satisfied with his choice of dress. The father is good too and only tries to explain his point of view and not force it on his son.
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Hi,
I found this video quite moving.
http://sfglobe.com/2015/05/13/a-cross-dressing-boy-battles-bullies-and-his-father/
Andy G.
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i also found this short film moving espically when he started to a dress so that the son did not feel left out
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Hey Andy G,
another good find and it brought tears to my eyes. My father wanted a rugged boy who played sports (all of them) but he got me.
I was quiet, read books, and learned to sew and knit from my mother. He never really understood me and was not pleased when I wanted to take Ballet.
I hid my dressing up from my parents as I knew he would go crazy but mom found out as I got careless once.
Later on as I got older he would tease me for wearing flowered shirts, a scarf around my neck like an artist would and other clothes he said were girly.
Imagine my surprise when I overheard he and my mother getting him dressed in panty hose and a dress for a mock wedding for their friends 25 th. Wedding anniversary.
Later on I saw the film they all made of the whole dress up party and the first thing I wanted to do was throw it in his face. I never did though, and just forgot about it.
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Fabulous find Andy. Thank you. It reminded me a little of my (God bless him) dad when I was a young crossdresser. He never actually bullied me one-on-one but he would get so discouraged and disgusted when I got caught dressed up. He was a macho, rugged construction worker and I'm sure he wanted his boy to be the same way. I am sure I let him down and disappointed him growing up. The end of the video was wonderful. It brought a tear to my eyes.
However, I was bullied by my uncle who used to call me panty boy, Alice blue gown and sissy boy. I was about 9 or 10 and playing football with my friends one day. He came over and as loud as he could asked me if I was wearing my pink silky panties today. It was then and still is very tough being a young boy who likes dressing up.
Francene
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Hey Francene, my dad was a machinist in a factory and a Math wiz. That was something else I wasn't good at and he spent my summer holidays drumming math into my head when I was 8-10 years old. I must admit though when he did find out about my dressing he never called me names but he did show his distaste with glaring looks and stares if I showed any interest in what my sister was wearing. He dragged me out on the lake for hours trying to teach me to fish but he himself was no fisherman and he had never done it before. I hated it but I was the only one to catch anything without even trying using a wooden pole and string and a bent pin for a hook, go figure. As I got older he pretty much ignored me and spent a great deal of time working but we did need the money as they had bought a house and the factory where he worked closed down shortly after so he spent time moving around looking for work in other cities and towns. I never blamed him for his attitude as he may have understood if we just talked about it but he never had time. Not sure if they ever suspected I never stopped dressing as a girl the rest of my life as I moved out at aged 20 to take a job in another city. I shared a bedroom with a cousin as he worked days and I worked mid-nights so our paths only crossed in the evening and weekends.
My dad and I became better friends later in life after we both got a lot older but the subject of our past never was talked about. Throughout my whole life I have worn panties and never had any indication that family or friends knew what I was wearing under my boy clothes and even nylon tights in winter in browns, purples and blues without socks to hide the fact.
I did have a co-worker say to me "nice plastic panties" once when I was bent over doing a repair and he saw that I was wearing them over some pink nylon panties. He asked where I got them and if anyone else knew. We became good friends after that as he had the same fetish I did and I was able to supply him with plastic panties when he had no source and a wife that warned him not to do it again after she caught him. We parted ways after a few years due to job changes and I only saw him once a few years ago. He was still married and still wore plastic panties in private but I never asked if his wife was aware of it.
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If anyone here gets bored with my rantings just let me know as I am just trying to add some content for you to read so Betty, Andy and a few others don't have to do all the work here. We sure would love to hear from others who visit and find out your stories of growing up liking what we like and perhaps trying to hide it from someone like us. I like to pass on these things to others before I get too old to remember what it was like growing up like this, doing the things we did and hiding from others or even being discovered and what happened then.
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Angela
I would post more but always think my bits and tales from childhood would bore others and also not sure if I posted something in the past but here goes:-
I was a small boy in England during The War and was sent to the country because of the city being bombed,The old couple who took me in had had daughters and as I didn't have a lot of clothes with me and those I rapidly outgrew or wore out started giving me the girls clothes to wear and these were a little old fashioned tending to be satin and lace and not at all boyish.I soon grew to really love these clothes and as I had longish blonde curly hair I was soon accepted as a girl.
When I started at the school I was naturally put with the girls and I did not demur.Not really understanding I was being treat as a girl rather than a boy and anyway I loved it (I was a girl).
Towards the end of the war and the bombing having nearly stopped I was returned to The City (still wearing girls clothes and with very long hair). My Mum met me at The station and when I ran up to her she didnt recognise the strange girl at first but then she hugged me and was more than happy as she had always wanted a girl. (more later). :-* :-* :-*
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Hi Jeangurl, thanks for the post and I love to hear about your adventures and those of others as we grew to adult hood. (Well somewhat anyway) and I really like to hear about England during the war as I was born in Manchester in 1949 and left to come to Canada in 1957. I do remember some of my early childhood in England and with the help of old photo's I have vague memories of wearing real rubber panties as a baby, sometimes without a nappy so perhaps that is why I love rubber panties so much. I first started to wear my sisters knickers and dresses at about age 5 when we were playing dress up games with the girls next door and as dad was away at work mom didn't seem to mind, but there was one time when I was 6 or 7 that dad caught me and as I had longish blond hair he did a double take thinking I was the little girl next door. When he stopped and came back for a second look he told me to change and get my coat. He quickly took me to the local barber for a short haircut and told me not to dress up anymore. My mother was a bit upset when she saw my golden locks were gone but she never went against my dad. I too was heartbroken as I loved my long blond hair and I didn't speak to dad for awhile after that.