I wore women’s clothes out and I fucking loved it

Last Wednesday I dressed as a woman. To put this in context, it was for a Disney themed birthday party followed by Cindies. Instead of going as Simba or Aladin, I took the opportunity to do something I have secretly always wanted to do: dress in drag. Speaking to friends about it, views were polarised. Some of my mates said they would never do it and others saying it would interesting. Here I want to convert the former, as I believe every man at some point in their lives should glam up and go in drag.

Lock up your dogs: Cruella is in town

To start to persuade you non believers, I thought I would explain my reasons for doing it. Now, I’m not going to say I wanted to explore my inner woman, or that it has some feminist motivations. No, I did it for a laugh. I thought I would love the attention of people’s gawps and slack jaws. Indeed when two of my friends in Cindies didn’t recognize me after I strutted over to say hi, I fulfilled my wish of generating bemusement and attention.

To many, the extra attention gained from dressing in drag is undesirable. This is easy to understand however, there is more to dressing in drag than bringing attention to yourself and provoking hilarity in others. Dressing as a woman was to me one of the most liberating experiences of my life. Gone was self conscious and slightly awkward Charlie. As Cruella Deville I didn’t care what people thought of me.

A purple dress: good enough for News Editor, Alex

This is not an unsurprising feeling: many people feel most comfortable when they lose themselves: it’s why we drink, take drugs, read fiction. What was different about dressing in drag was the all encompassing nature of the experience. Standing in the smoking area in my wig, tights and dress, I had transformed into something different. Rather than escaping myself, I had morphed into another persona. I’m not saying I was trying to act like a woman or wanted to, rather that I had lost aspects of my personality that are socially awkward, without the fuzziness of alcohol.

You may argue many drugs have a similar effect. However, you are still yourself and will probably be embarrassed about what you said the night before to that girl you kind of like. When I woke up on Thursday morning, there was not a mote or thought of any possible embarrassment: I said what I liked and didn’t care.

Put a skirt on, bro

From my experiences, what causes the most strife after a night out are the various conflicts or regrets that arise as a result of attempted or successful amorous advances. Dressed as a woman that was never going to happen. I no longer felt I had to conform to the shagging aspect of lad culture. I was going out not to get with girls, but to celebrate my friend’s birthday. You nay sayers may argue I could have done this dressed as I normally do, but to be honest, drunk in Cindies I don’t trust myself to stick to my sober intentions. Putting on a bra and fake eyelashes guaranteed my faithful and refreshing chastity.

Having given my arguments for dressing in drag, you may wonder why I don’t do it more often. Why I don’t do a Grayson Perry and make it a part of my everyday life. The reasons why you won’t see me in Sainsbury’s anytime soon sporting a miniskirt and heels, are the same as the reasons why I don’t get drunk the whole time. As a person, I need to spend most of the time being myself and being comfortable with it. This is how it should be, since I’m not going to change who I am. However, every once in a while we all need a release. Dressing in drag is one that every man should try for its potency and uniqueness.