As you know, dear reader, I was forty years old on September 18th 1998. I had a small celebration that night with some of the girls from my Felixstowe group [1], but I'd planned my main party for the following night. After a number of abortive ideas stretching back over a year and covering half the globe, I eventually opted to hold a party for my and my wife's open-minded friends at our house. So while my wife organised the food and drink, I was responsible for compiling the guest list, and arranging for invitations and maps of our location to be printed and distributed.
In the days before the party, I'd been torn between wearing a black sleeveless summer dress with large red flowers, and a classic (but short) little black dress. On the night, I chose to wear my birthday present from my wife - a gorgeous full-length black and gold evening dress printed with thousands of gold sequins. Now, I'm not used to wearing femme clothes which even cover my thighs, let alone my knees, but in this instance, I was willing to make an exception, despite knowing that some of my guests would say that I looked uncharacteristically sophisticated. But my wife had chosen carefully - this dress had a 60-cm slit up the back, so it showed at least part of my best features! Under this I wore black lace-top stockings with a suspender belt, and a garter just for fun! After a last-minute change of heart, I decided that the outfit deserved my most expensive curly blond wig. As I pulled it on and looked in the mirror, the figure staring back at me took my breath away - it was definitely Sally, but she looked so elegant [2]!
The party was scheduled for 8:00pm, and within an hour, all the guests had arrived. Everyone knew that the hostess and birthday-girl was a tranny, and most had either met Sally or seen photographs of her, so there were no awkward or embarrassing moments. But just in case, I'd decided to make the party fancy-dress to give everyone a chance to dress up - or cross-dress - if they wanted. In the event, out of thirty people, five were trannies (dressed, of course), and seven were in 'true' fancy-dress - Fred Flintstone, a witch, a showgirl, Frankenstein's monster, a schoolgirl, Robin Hood, and Maid Marian.
The light jazz music playing during the early part of the evening rapidly gave way to disco, and then to club, as the dancers got down to serious business. I don't think we'd ever had thirty people in our house before, and it soon got very hot, so as it was quite a mild evening, many guests went out into the garden to chat. After a couple of friends asked if I could get some music outside so they could dance, cars were moved, and I set up my electronic keyboard amplifier in the front garden. This beast can put out well in excess of 125 watts, and in the still of the night, it could probably be heard right up the street - it's just as well that our immediate neighbours all happened to be away for the weekend! But no-one complained, and the police weren't called, so everything was OK.
Now, being a disco girl, I can't resist the temptation to dance. But even in the cool night air, the combination of a full-length evening dress and a wig proved too much, so I decided to go upstairs and change into something more appropriate. And I'd already decided what it was going to be - my short mauve nightie with the thigh split! I knew that it was going to look really tarty, but it was such a wonderful contrast to the evening dress that I couldn't resist it. Of course, I was still wearing the stockings, suspender belt and garter, and the nightie covered none of this - but what the hell? Everyone already knew me as 'Sally the Tart' anyway! I came back downstairs and made my way into the garden amidst a chorus of oohs, aahs, and wolf-whistles from men and women alike!
Many of my guests were members of the amateur theatre company I play for, and with a rehearsal the next day, some felt obliged to leave shortly after midnight. Fortunately, I wasn't needed at the rehearsal - maybe it was the threat of going straight there from my party which persuaded the director to organise a replacement pianist! In any case, others started to drift away after that, and by 2:30am, only my wife and me, and one other couple were left. As they helped us clear up, we drank coffee, and talked about how we were going to set the world right. They finally headed for home at 4 o'clock.
It had been my intention to speak to all my guests at some point during the evening - apart from when they arrived and left - although I think I failed in that endeavour. I also think that my need to dance conflicted with my duties as hostess, although my wife had correctly predicted that if everyone had easy access to the food and drink, the party would run itself. Judging by the comments during the following week, everyone had a good time, and several people wanted to know whether I was planning to have another party next year - from that I deduce that it was a success! My thanks to Jerry and Sarah, Janice, Andy, Norman and Tina, Steve, Georgina, Neal and Kaye, David and Julie, James and Lesley, Amanda and Duncan, Simon and Jane, Lizzie, Bev and Richard, Mary, Rikki, Stephanie, Carole, Bob and Ness, and Debbie and Alec for helping me celebrate my special birthday in a very special way.
Extract from personal notes.