I have been involved with the TGSF Cotillion for seven years now. All of my work has been behind the scenes, taking photographs, serving as an assistant producer, and acting as technical director. Each year I saw how much fun the contestants were having, and would ponder becoming a contestant in the next year's show. Sooner or later my fears of public performance would come up, and I would retreat to my supporting roles.
This year was different. I went to the California Dreaming convention in Los Angeles. On a lark, I decided to have a makeover and the results were stunning. At Southern Comfort, I did it again -- everyone was amazed that Jamie, a card-carrying gender nerd, has good looks too! Emboldened with confidence, I decided I was going to really enter this time. To ensure that I would not chicken out, I told everyone I knew.
My first problem was finding someone to take over as technical director. Nancy Cupps volunteered for this, and my RGA friend Gelsey signed on as spotlight operator.
The next issue was coming up with a talent routine. One morning I woke up with an idea for a comedy sketch. When I showed it to my wife, she suggested performing with me as my "straight man". We then launched into a research project investigating classic American Vaudeville humor.
With a talent concept and my usual responsibilities transfered, I joined nine of my sisters at the contestant meeting in December at the home of Dear Diva, our show director. A basic rehearsal schedule was established, and we were briefed on our deadlines and responsibilities. Several of the girls were old friends, while the others quickly became new friends. Diva asked each of us which colors we wished to wear during active wear and formal wear, and we standardized on black or red. I signed up for red formal wear.
Rehearsals began in January, one three to four hour session each weekend. They would begin with a coordination meeting, and then the contestants would practice stage movements for the active wear, formal wear, and presentation segments. Often we would play music to pace our motion. Gradually we all learned our movements.
One afternoon Diva conducted what she called a "bombardment circle". Each contestant would stand in the center of circle, and we would go around the circle in turn each saying what we admire about the woman in the middle. This was a wonderful idea; it was not hard to think of nice things to say even for those I had not really come to know yet.
Diva had each of us come in to meet her and go over our talent routine. We went in one Sunday and spent an hour learning aspects of timing and developing our characters. We continued to revise our script and practice, practice, practice.
In mid-January, I went off on a search for that red formal dress. To my dismay, this year's holiday color seems to have been black! After four malls and countless stores, eventually I located a simple but attractive red gown at Rin's in San Carlos.
Two days later, it is time for the judges interviews at the Blue Muse. I am nervous and tired, but they quickly put me at ease. The questions go by quickly and I am off to the afternoon rehearsal.
One morning I woke up with the idea of building a rocket pack for my active wear costume. I managed to locate a carbon dioxide fire extinguisher which I mounted on a pack frame along with two fake propellant tanks. I rigged up a lever to fire the extinguisher on cue.
It is now Friday night and time for the dress rehearsal at the design center. During setup, a table collapses, dumping my sound system onto the floor, destroying one of our show master disks with all of the contestant's music on it. Fortunately, I had made a backup.
This, plus several other random emergencies, created a realistic level of stress for the dress rehearsal! Active wear went well, our talent number had only a few minor mistakes, and formal wear went well. My confidence level, and that of my sister contestants, improves.
Saturday -- the big day. My wife and I practice and practice our comedy routine about every 10 minutes or so, at home, on the drive up, and in a quiet corner.
Everyone is getting ready. They bring in some food which we gratefully consume. Carla comes over to do my makeup, arriving moments after the power goes off in the dressing room. We set up in the hall, and in about 15 minutes she works a miracle. I put on my black catsuit, goggles, blinking LED earrings, and boots and wait. Everyone else is scrambling to get into face and into their costumes. The dressing room is cramped so we take turns using the mirror. Well wishers drop by, and photographers grab "prep shots". Eventually the call to "places" comes and I don the rocket pack.
We mill around nervously, and then the active wear number begins. Tianna goes first, and then it's my turn. About halfway through my walk, I pull the handle on the rocket pack and get only a half second worth of rocket blast. Unfortunately, the trigger mechanism jams, but at least the audience gets the idea. I recover my composure and sashay to my finishing position. The the other eight contestants come out in order and we all step forward and then exit.
Now it's a mad rush to get out of active wear and into my talent outfit. I put on a leopard print mini-dress, heels, faux pearl bracelets and earrings. My wife and I attach our clip-on microphones and go test them. After Didi Mau finishes her "Tribute to Tempest Storm", My wife moves to her onstage chair and waits. The announcer introduces her as the famous psychologist "Dr. Joyce Sisters", and I make my entrance as a very ditsy transsexual coming in for a GRS letter. We toss out classic Vaudeville jokes intermixed with some of our own. The audience responds well and we get every line perfect. After about 2 1/2 minutes, we take our bows and exit, greatly relieved.
I now wait with my sisters for each to go on. They all do well. One by one, they stream back in, relieved. We all help each other along in ways large and small, with gifts, hugs, or a last-minute loan of a misplaced item. Slowly we don our formal wear, freshen up our makeup, and adjust our hair. Carla comes in and touches me up.
It's a long wait, it seems like every transgendered woman west of the Mississippi is walking as a debutante! Eventually, the show resumes and it's "places" for formal wear. A very attractive man escorts me out and I make my turns. My sisters follow -- even within the color constraint of black or red, I am impressed with the variety and quality of our outfits.
We then step offstage while the judges total up, the gap being covered by a professional performer. They call us back and announce the five finalists: Kalani, Nicole, Meredith, Tianna, and Michelle.
No Jamie.
I try and be as graceful in my disappointment as possible and join the four others out back doing the same. The finalists are being asked in turn to answer the "final question", worth 25 percent of the score. Michelle gets a curve ball question about "long lines in the ladies room" and hits it right out of the park.
Fuji, the contestant coordinator, taps me on the shoulder and tells me I am needed at the stage-right entrance. Each contestant voted during the intermission for "Miss Congeniality", and I won! So I come out, accept my award, and pose for photos. Needless to say, my mood improves! I join the finalists and last year's winner Serena backstage, who are all holding hands, tensely waiting.
Kalani, Nicole, Meredith, Tianna, and Michelle return to the stage. The rest of us wait in the wings. Nicole is the second runner-up. Tianna is the first runner-up. After more tense waiting, Michelle is our winner! We stream back on stage and join in the applause. Michelle is crowned and takes her coronation walk.
It's a flashbulb orgy as everyone congratulates the winners, and people come up to pose with Michelle's court and with each other. As things die down, I slip away and change. I quickly repair the rocket pack and do a few full-throttle blast-offs on stage, and then visit with my friends. Each one offers compliments, congratulations, and consolation.
Then its time to pack everything up and load-out. I make congratulatory farewell visits to co-producers Lulu Blau and Leslie Bailey, and to director Dear Diva, all of whom outdid themselves. I bid adieu to Gelsey and Nancy, loading equipment on the street, and we drive away.
My wife and I head down I-280 towards home. She had great fun using our digital camera to record the event for Transgender Forum. We talk about what went right and what went wrong and conclude that it was more than worth it: Nine friendships were began or strengthened; I now have a greater confidence in my ability to perform in public and to be beautiful in body and spirit. I come away feeling closer to my wife and to who I am.