The first time it happens, a gurls awakening

Over the years, I’ve had the absolute pleasure of chatting with, advising, encouraging, and yes sometimes giving a little tough love to gurls just like you. Whether you’re just stepping into your first pair of heels, or you’ve been tucking and twirling since forever, I see you. I get you. I mean why would you not want to be a woman?

Recently, I ran a poll across a number of gurls (seriously, the inbox was bursting) asking my gurls about their most memorable “firsts.” And no, silly, not that kind of first… well, not yet anyway - giggle

I stumbled across a theme that kept popping up, deliciously emotional, slightly scary, and oh-so-juicy,
The First Time It Happened. That unexpected, heart-stopping moment when a man smiles… winks… flirts… or even just sees you. Not as a joke, not with confusion, but as a woman. As someone desirable. Feminine. Alluring. Powerful.

And gurls, the stories? Whew. They came pouring in like champagne on New Year’s Eve. Some were cheeky. Some were tear-jerking. Some were so hot I had to fan myself between paragraphs. But all of them were real. And all of them mattered.

Because femininity, whether it’s natural-born, softly sculpted, or fabulously faked, is a journey. And those first moments of being seen in your womanhood? They’re unforgettable. Magical. And, sometimes, a little terrifying.

So sit tight, fluff your hair, top up your gloss, and clutch your pearls (or your pearls-and-lace choker, no judgement here). Because I’m about to share some of those incredible, vulnerable, and naughty little stories from our sisterhood. And remember, darling: being a gurl is more than clothes. It’s a whole-ass mood. 

Confessions of a Flustered Femme: Our First-Time Tales 

– Dani, 28, London
“She looked at me and said, god you make a stunning woman!
I was in the loo at a busy bar, adjusting my tights and trying to fix my eyeliner with shaking hands. It was only my second time out fully dressed and I was terrified someone would clock me. Then this gorgeous girl in a bodycon dress walked in, glanced at me through the mirror and said, “You’re one of us, aren’t you?” I froze. “A total babe,” she added with a wink. “I love your look, you make a hot woman” she patted my ass. We ended up chatting about heels and hair for ten minutes while we peed and powdered. She even shared her lipgloss. That was the first time I felt truly included not judged. Just one of the girls.

– Lacey, 27, London
"He wanted me and I wanted him"
The very first time it happened to me, I was a bundle of nerves. Done up in my cutest little outfit, hair swishing, lashes fluttering, heels clicking, and feeling every bit the fierce and fabulous. I was with my fellow sissy gurls, out for a night of gurl fun, a little bit of dancing and a lot of cocktails. We were strutting our stuff on the dance floor, twirling in our skirts, giggling at every catcall, just having fun for the moment.

And then it happened. He happened.

Tall, dark, with that smouldering kind of smile that makes your knees go all wobbly, looked right at me. Not through me, not past me. AT me. And he winked. Just like that. Like he saw me, really saw me, and liked what he saw. My heart did a little flip (well, more like a cartwheel), and I felt this electric rush that zinged straight from my pouty lips to my trembling thighs.

The emotions, they came in crashing waves, fear, shame, disgust, and then, deliciously, confusingly, desire. And something else too. Validation. Like, for a split second, I was a real girl. A pretty girl. A wanted girl. And trust me, no amount of contouring can prepare you for that kind of feeling.

I know it sounds naughty, and it kind of was, but this wasn’t just about flirtation or being seen. It was about stepping into something we often fantasise about, the intoxicating reality of being feminine and visible. Of being admired. Of being desired. Sometimes whether you’re ready for it or not.

– Emily, 42, Cardiff
“He called me ‘babygirl’ and I almost dropped my clutch.”
It was my first proper night out as Emily, I had on this killer pink bodycon dress that hugged every curve I’d spent hours padding and shaping. I was queuing at the bar, trying not to wobble in my heels, when this guy leaned over and whispered, “You alright, babygirl?” in this low, gravelly voice. I swear my entire existence fizzed. I giggled, and almost dropped my clutch, and tried to play it cool, but my knees were pure jelly. I wasn’t sure whether to run, flirt, or faint. Spoiler I flirted, sooo blushing right now and ended up kissing him and dancing with him all night. 

– Sofia, 34, Manchester
“He opened the door for me… and I nearly cried.”
Okay, not everything has to be full-on filth (though I love a good filth moment, don’t get me wrong). I was dolled up in a flowing maxi dress, feeling like the goddess I dreamed of being. A man saw me approaching the café and actually held the door open. He smiled, said, “Ladies first,” and winked. It was so simple, but for me. Earth-shattering. It made me feel seen. Feminine. Valid. Real. I smiled, blushed and felt giddy. I pickeded up my pre-ordered coffee and left quickly cheeks burning. I held my head higher that day. I sometimes wish I had given him my number.
 
– Chantelle, 22, London
“He grabbed my waist on the dancefloor… and I let him.”
It was a Saturday night. I was in my tiniest little leather skirt and fishnets, shimmering under club lights like a disco dream. Then out of nowhere, a big, muscly guy came up behind me, his hands firm on my waist. Normally I'd freeze, but I didn't, I have no idea why, no idea what took hold of me, I moved with him. Grinded with him. We danced like I was his dirty little secret. My heart pounded with every beat. Dangerous? Maybe. Empowering? HELL yes. And when he whispered, “You're so sexy,” into my ear, I knew I’d never forget it. Ever.

– Bella, 29, Brighton
“The Uber driver said, ‘You ladies out causing trouble tonight?’ I died.”
Sometimes the validation hits you when you least expect it. I was just sat in the back with my bestie, both of us drunk on gin and our own hotness. The driver glanced in the mirror and called us “ladies”—ladies! And he didn’t say it weirdly or sarcastically. Just casual, kind, and cool. We squealed for five minutes straight after he dropped us off. My bestie still calls me “trouble” to this day. 

– Colette, 30, Paris
“He said ‘mademoiselle’ and my knees just gave out.”
I was in Montmartre, feeling like a walking perfume ad in my flowy floral mini and thigh-highs. A man brushed past me, looked me up and down, and simply said, “Bonsoir, mademoiselle.” The way he said it—mmm. My inner femme screamed, my mascara nearly ran, and I walked the rest of the evening like I was floating. Paris really is for lovers.

– Lexie, 25, New York City
“He offered to carry my shopping bags… and then asked for my number.”
I’d just finished a shopping spree, arms full. This tall, sharp-suited Wall Street daddy held the door, smiled, and offered to help. “A lady shouldn’t carry so much,” he said. I was blushing so hard I nearly dropped my MAC lipstick. We stood chatting outside Saks for 15 minutes and yes, he asked for my number.

– Jade, 33, Berlin
“He bought me a drink and said I had Berlin attitude.”
It was 2am the club was alive and I was there with my BFF. I was in fishnet everything, stomping in platform boots. This artsy guy in black eyeliner handed me a vodka soda and said, “You’re giving full Berlin attitude, hot, dangerous, and untouchable.” I giggled, and carried on dancing all night, I felt sooo femm. 

– Penny, 38, Bristol
“He thought I was a naughty librarian... I didn’t correct him.”
Out in town in my glasses, tight pencil skirt and sheer blouse. A guy looks at me, up and down for a moment and then says, “You look like a naughty librarian who wants to teach me a lesson.” I should have laughed and walked away. Instead, I whimpered, he told me to give him my phone and he put his number in and told me to call him. I keep thinking about calling him, but I blush sooo much when I see his name and number on my phone. 

– Violet, 35, London
“He whispered ‘You’re stunning’ on the Tube.”
I was sat on the Central Line, heels off, lashes fluttering, feeling half-glam, half-exhausted. A man sat beside me, looked over and just said, “You’re stunning.” No agenda. No creepiness. Just raw, unexpected kindness. My throat tightened. It was the kind of moment that stays with you, like the soft scent of Chanel on your scarf.

– Steph, 31, New York
“He offered me his jacket and said I was too pretty to be cold.”
I was at a rooftop bar, nipples slightly hard in the breeze, when this handsome stranger noticed and draped his jacket over my shoulders. He said, A lady as beautiful as you shouldn’t be cold. Baby. I nearly melted right into his arms.

So there you have it, darlings. A fabulous mix of heart-pounding, cheek-blushing, lip-smudging moments. Because being a sissy gurl isn’t just about looking pretty, it’s about feeling pretty, being seen, desired, and living for those unforgettable little encounters that light you up from the inside out.