Why is it normally acceptable for females to wear male clothing without any embarrassment, whereas if a male wears female clothing, he is likely to become the object of derision?

The headline caught my eye immediately: "Schoolboys Made to Wear Blouses"

A headmaster was castigated for ordering a number of boys at his school to wear girls' blouses as a punishment. It seems that the boys concerned had signed each other's shirts as farewell momentos at the end of the school year. For 'wilful damage' to the shirts, the boys were marched off to the school stores where they were fitted out with girls' blouses and made to wear them in class.

They became objects of ridicule from their classmates. Parents described the humiliation as being like the ancient punishment of putting offenders in the stocks.

As I read this story I was sitting in a train surrounded by a number of young students, mainly female. I couldn't help noticing that all but one of them were wearing trousers. Some had men's shirts, with the shit tails sticking out from under pullovers (which are, I believe, categorised as unisex).

Why is it normally acceptable for females to wear male clothing without any embarrassment, whereas if a male wears female clothing, he is likely to become the object of derision?

Looking back over the years to the time when I was a schoolboy, I would have given an arm to have been compelled to wear a girl's blouse; indeed, I would have wanted to go the whole hog and don the navy knickers, gymslip and school hat as well!

I am sure I could have withstood any derision, and for me it would not have been a humiliation, but a fulfilment of all my secret inner longings. As it was, these delights had to be enjoyed in secret, when circumstances would allow.

But the news item raised another, much earlier memory in my history. I have often wondered when I first felt the need to dress and act as a female, and I can only say that the desire has been with me for as long as I can remember. There was no starting point, no specific incident that sparked it off.

As a child, aged about six, I was admitted to the isolation ward of our local hospital with a suspected serious contagious illness. Happily, it transpired that I was free of that disease, but nevertheless I had to remain in quarantine for several days.

I was allowed to move about the ward and play with the other children, but one day when I had had an unfortunate accident with my clothes, there was nothing for me to wear but a girl's dress...