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FICTION: Princess Lake Wendi’s Revenge Golden Girl POETRY: Life and Love A TV Night Before Christmas ARTICLES: ! Transvestism in Opera The Worst Night of My Life BOOK REVIEW TRUE STORY Fascinating Journey LETTERS TO THE EDITOR VIRGIN VIEWS Purpose of Transvestia TRANSVESTIA is dedicated to the needs of those heterosexual persons who have become aware of their “other side” and seek to express it. The magazine provides — EDUCATION — ENTERTAINMENT — EXPRESSION to help its readers achieve — UNDERSTANDING — SELF ACCEPTANCE — PEACE OF MIND in place of the loneliness, fear and self condemnation they have known for too long. TRANSVESTIA does not condemn nor judge the fields of homosexu ality, bondage, domination or fetishism. These are left to others to develop. They are not part of the areas of interest of this magazine. TRANSVESTIA seeks to gather information and to disseminate it to interested persons in the medical, legal counseling and scientific pro fessions to further their knowledge about this little understood field. THE COVER SYMBOL The symbol on the cover expresses the philosophy of this publication. The head, divided diagonally, represents our two sides — mind (Wisdom) and face (Beauty). The lateral curving line portrays the ancient Chinese duality of the “Yang” (masculinity) and the “Yin” (femininity) — the two aspects of human nature. The total symbolism indicates the wholeness of a human being — not all masculine — mind and reason, abstract and unseen — and not all feminine — beauty, desirability, and appearance, but rather an integra tion of both. A “SAYING” OF JESUS “When you make the two one . and when you make the MALE AND THE FEMALE INTO A SINGLE ONE . then shall you enter the kingdom.” From the Gospel According to St. Thomas. Generously donated by: Virginia Prince, PhD. NTENT e t c ° A Editor 2 Princess Lake—Fiction 15 Life and Love—Poem F 17 Wendi's Revenge—Fiction 31 Transvestism in Opera—Article 37 Golden Girl—Fiction 62 A TV Night Before Christmas—Poem 66 Letters to the Editor 71 Book Review Worst Night of My Life—Article Fascinating Journey—True Story Virgin Views Copyright 1978 by CHEVALIER PUBLICATIONS. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission. Vol. XVI NO. 93 PRINCESSLAKE continued from TV #92 "I'm bothered about the weapon," Hamilton said at last, looking out at the excellent view of the lake. There were women now all over the beach and an impromptu game of volleyball was in progress between two bikini'ed teams, their bright lipstick clear even at the distance of the cabaret from the lakeshore. Kim Winter had a wrap around his otherwise bare shoulders. He waited quite naturally for Bud to step ahead and open the door to the 'schoolhouse,' a long, dark cabin opposite the natural focus of the camp, the brightly painted 'club/ "I don't know that the children can help you," Kim paused and glanced at his female reflection in the long mirror just inside the door. It showed a tall brunette woman with shapely ankles in the dark-tinted stockings, set off so neatly by the open-toed, black suede high heels. "You said they were all over the beach yesterday," Hamilton stated. The small hallway led into a long room, where there were rows upon rows of wig blocks. The lecturer, a brunette woman, whose voice was so controlled and crisp that she had to be 'real/ was showing her class of a dozen male transvestites, all femininely attired, how to take care of their wigs and how to re-style them as needed. "Cassie, said Kim, beckoning. Several looked up from the task of setting the light blonde wig on the short man with heavy, dark eye brows. One look at the detective, and eyes, enhanced by eyeliner, false eyelashes and a variety of different shades of eyeshadow, shifted away demurely. 2 ^ jRANSVESliA ^ A small transvestite, in a tight, light blue dress, wearing a dark 'beehive7 wig, left the group reluctantly and came over to Kim. "Yes/7 the voice was barely disguised from its natural tenor. The lesson had now stopped and Hamilton could feel the nervous glances cast in his direction. "Let's walk on,77 said Kim softly, leading the way through the narrow passage into the 'workrooms7 beyond. In the first, a young man, without a concealing hairpiece was being made up by a woman 'expert7. "I just have to shape your eyebrows, Karen,77 she was laughing. "Please don't,77 the young man also wore a tight dress, more suitable to an evening out than for the late afternoon. "The other guys at work . His voice tailed off as the 'expert7 began to laugh and apply tweezers unmercifully. The class rocked with quite unfeminine laughter as Karen's eyebrows were worked on. Despite the protests, Bud noted that Karen's thin arms were free and yet 'she7 did nothing to stop the makeup expert from shaping the eyebrows to almost a feminine nothing. The workshop was empty, save for racks of dresses and costumes on long racks. "You can talk to the kids best,77 Kim said when the door closed behind Cassie. Cassie turned 'her7 head, large, beaded earrings clanking, giving Hamilton a strange view of the 'woman7. His small mouth, pale pink and shiny, opened to reveal extraordinarily white teeth. If it hadn't been for the traces of shadow about his jaw, and the dark hair of his arms and legs, Cassie would have made a good-looking woman. "Why should I?77 he asked, again in his soft tenor tones. "I need to know,77 said Hamilton directly, "everything that everyone saw on the path were Betty Ewell was killed and on the beach, yesterday afternoon. It could get everyone out of here without the Sheriff arresting everyone and making his charges public.77 Cassie regarded him stolidly. "It could keep this Camp open.77 Cassie looked at Kim who made an elegant shrug, his heavy silver earrings glinting in the slanted rays of the late afternoon sun, piercing the dusty, west-facing windows. "The kids of transvestites aren't like other kids,77 said Cassie slowly. "They won't want to come 3 RANSVESTiA I------------------ forward with suggestions — not like other kids — to a policeman. Certainly not those who are observant enough to be of help to you/1 "So, I need your help/' said Bud Hamilton firmly. He looked straight at the man in the pale blue dress until Cassie's mascara-covered lashed dropped. ****** It took some time before Cassie had finally said, "I'll talk to them," and had taken off, leaving them alone in the 'workshop'. Kim Winter sighed as the door closed with a hiss. "What makes you think they can help at all?" he asked at last. Hamilton scowled. "I don't know for sure," he said, opening a door to allow Kim to precede him deeper into the long 'schoolhouse.' The model walking down the ramp moved so gracefully, her makeup so perfect, her long hair, brushed, natural and shiny, that Bud guessed that she couldn't be a man. The long evening gown swirled about her and the rapt audience, all women, applauded rapidly and loudly as the model did several fast dance steps to the accompanying music and swept from the stage. A thin, dark model took her place—her white, flimsy dress clinging to her curves, her cleavage fuller than Bud had seen on most professional models. Her eyes were black circles under the dark makeup, but softened by her soft, pink-white skin. "This year's graduates," said Kim absently, as he walked on towards the exit door. "I'll speak to the wives for you. If the children have found anything, I'm sure the mothers will know." ****** The Conway Sisters were in superb form that evening, both literally and figuratively. The background music was taped but their singing was "live." Lana's husky contralto was a perfect match for Jeannette's soprano, and of course, they looked as 'real' as they sounded. Whether as dusky slave girls doing most suggestive belly dances, or as wild, red-headed can-can dancers, the two never revealed for one moment that they were men. Nor at the end of their act did they say a word to let the audience, who knew of course, into the secret. They could 4 J r a n s v e s t Ia have earned a living anywhere as female dancers, and probably, thought Bud, they did on occasions. The Sisters joined Bud at the police table' while a very young transvestite did his Mae West imitation. "I really enjoyed your act," he said, standing and smiling, while Calesi and Buchanan sat back stolidly in the shadow of the wall. Jeannette lifted the hem of the long, narrow evening dress. "Thanks," she murmured, as she sat in front of Calesi, breathing quite hard, her cleavage in protracted feminine movement as the young detective eyed her in strange fascination. "You wanted to speak to us again," Lana's eyes were very definitely outlined in black, the green eyeshadow powdered, from false eye lashes to finely shaped eyebrows, on her eyelids. Her dark hair was loose about her shoulders, "stardust" glittering through, even out shining the small, exquisite diamond clusters at her ears. Her off-the- shoulder gown matched Jeannette's but she sat more primly, casting a wary eye at the detective-sergeant. "About Darlene's dates," said Bud. "They intrigue you?" Lana's mouth curled with the barbed insult, but Bud refused to be put out.