03 / ABOUT SOPHIE

A few words.
A little of me.

Sophie. That is what I am called when I want to be looked at.

Crossdressing is not a costume I put on for one evening. It is the way I come closer to the woman I can already hear in myself. When the fabric settles on my skin and the heel lifts my step, something in me grows quiet and wakes at the same time. I want to explore that femininity slowly: with cloth, with a heel, with my mouth, with someone else's wonder.

I like being admired. I like a gaze that stays one second too long on my throat, my calf, my mouth. Adoration is not an extra for me. It is part of getting dressed. I want to feel that I am a woman people want to look at.

I want to be a woman outside the room as well. I want my name said softly. I want someone to hold my coat, to touch an earring, to ask whether these heels are comfortable, and for the question to carry desire.

I want to try men slowly, and for real. I am curious about the weight of a hand at my waist, a lower voice at my ear, the way a man looks when he already knows I am Sophie and that this is exactly what I want. I am a little afraid. I want it enough that my throat goes dry. I do not need a crowd. I need one man who can adore me without explaining me to the world.

I still end the evening in my own order: coat, make-up, hair. I leave one thing in sight, usually an earring. In the morning it reminds me that the time was mine and that I am allowed to want more.

The notes and the photographs stay here. In a shop I ask about the cut, not about my life. Anyone who comes closer comes because I invited them. Everyone else may look only as far as I allow.