The Uncle Tom's Cabin I am talking about has nothing to do with Harriet Beecher Stowe, in fact this is a much different abode. My name is Tom and I am a man who lives in a cabin. I came from a very rigid military school background and my dad was obsessed with Civil War history, so I took the best from that world. My dad always liked to go to Civil War renactments, but I had no interest in wearing those boring machoismo military outfits. I loved the Scarlet O'hara style hoop skirts and one day I tried one on. Of course my dad was not supposed to know that I was a drag queen, but one time I fooled him by dressing up as a beautiful southern belle for one of the Civil War renactments. My make-up was so stellar that many men asked to take my picture, and little did they know I was a dude in drag.

When I turned eighteen I left home to study theatre, but that was a dismal failure because no one seem interested in a drag queen Scarlet O'Hara. After awhile I moved to the mountains somewhere in the USA and got a job as a waiter at a drag queen bar, which attracted many tourists since there were very few mountain towns have these type of establishments. It was during that time in the late eighties that I fell in love with a woman named Lonnie. She was very cute and a great seamstress, which is why I fell in love with her soon after we met. Another reason we fell in love was because she did not seem to mind that I liked to dress in drag, especially her beautiful corsets and hoop skirts. Yes I am a man and I like to wear hoop skirts, hence my nickname Hoopskirtman.

Five years after we met we got married next to our little cabin in the woods, and since my name is Tom we jokingly named it Uncle Tom's Cabin. From that day on I told Lonnie I would be prancing around town and the house in hoop skirts and lipstick, but she did not seem to mind since she had already seen me working in a drag queen establishment.

One time she got mad because my shoes and corsets were not matching, so she threw a honey jar in the sink and got it all sticky. I was furious because I had to spend three hours scouring out that sink to make it pristine again, which cut into my baking time that day. Yes Lonnie was the pants in the family and brought home the bacon, which gave me time to prance around in hoopskirts.

People were a little stunned to see a six foot guy such as myself driving a monster truck, yet when I jumped down I was wearing a hoopskirt. When Lonnie was at work I loved to watch Civil War era movies and study how flouncing the hoop skirts were. I had to design special drawers because when I flipped up my skirt it did not look authentic with tighty whities. So you judge me for wearing hoop skirst and lipstick? I find it liberating and wonderful. My name is hoop skirt man and I am proud of that!