June 1999
Can you imagine how mortified I was when realising I had to go to Manchester, on a Thursday morning, to attend a seminar at Salford University?
Nothing short of traumatic! Now, I've never been an early riser, so it was essential to book a suitable Hotel in Manchester for the Wednesday Night.
And, Oh what a coincidence, Wednesday is Trannie Night in Manchester's Village.
There
was nothing for it but to call The Rembrandt, home of Northern Concord (see
links page) for ten years. No trouble getting a room, and when I arrived was
courteously shown to a double room in the annexe further down Canal Street,
towards the New Union Pub.
Since this was the first time I had been able to stay over instead of making the 100 mile journey home in the early hours of Thursday morning, I decided to take my time getting ready. Closing the door behind the porter and I lay back on the bed to think about what to wear. There was a lovely fuschia pink pencil skirt and matching jacket, but no matching lipstick and nail polish. Or what about the black lace ra-ra skirt, but alas that had been worn before on the club scene.
Thursday morning, I decided to take my time getting ready. Closing the door behind the porter and I lay back on the bed to think about what to wear. There was a lovely fuschia pink pencil skirt and matching jacket, but no matching lipstick and nail polish. Or what about the black lace ra-ra skirt, but alas that had been worn before on the club scene.
But the black gloss PVC mini-skirt and jacket hadn't, so the
choice was made.
Also with
a new blonde, bob wig and red lipstick, this seemed the perfect combination.
Normally, I avoid red lipstick, too vampish, but I felt sure the total look
would be stunning, and I was right - no false modesty here girls.
Getting up from the bed, I hung up all my clothes in the wardrobe (what a
luxury when you're used to keeping everything in a suitcase) and spent the
next hour showering and making-up.
Finally, I was ready and Rachel closed the door and walked up Canal Street, turned left down Sackville Street, and left again into Bloom Street - destination The Hollywood Showbar and home of Northern Concord.
There
was no one there I knew, so I chatted with Mary (what do mean you don't know
Mary; everyone knows "Mary the Legs") and Jenny Baker for a while,
before retracing my steps and calling in at Via Fossa where I struck gold,
Julia.
Julia and I chatted with a number of "girls" who came into the downstairs
bar before moving on to the famous Napolean's nightclub, where to be a Trannie
is to get in for free. Dancing for a couple of hours in 4 inch stilettoes,
left my feeting killing me, and with an early start in the morning I took
myself off to bed at about 1.30am. But do you know what finally rounded off
the perfect night? Two appreciative wolf whistles as I left Napoleon's.