Charlie Craggs On Embracing Girlhood Post-Transition To Find “True Gender Euphoria”

If I was to say the name Charlie Craggs, what comes to mind? I doubt ‘style’ is the first word on anyone’s lips. It’s probably not even the tenth. 

Don’t get me wrong, I always turn a look on the red carpet – notably the slogan T-shirt I wore to the Glamour Women Of The Year Awards in 2023 (‘Transphobia Will Never Be Glamour) – but to paraphrase Roald Dahl’s Matilda, ‘some people choose looks and some people choose books’. I chose books, in the sense that I’m an award-winning author, but also in the sense that I love to read people. This is what I’m known for. 

So, it might surprise you to find out that if you’d asked people what word came to mind when you said my name a decade ago, ‘style’ would probably be one of the first, after ‘batty boy’. (That’s two words though, so it doesn’t count.) 

Growing up a girly boy is never fun, but it’s especially not fun when you grow up in a family of boyish boys, on a council estate full of boyish boys and go to an all-boys school full of boyish boys. I was seven the first time I was called a girl by one of the boys on the estate, and I went home and cried to my mum because I wanted to be ‘normal’ like my brothers. 

By the time I was a teenager I’d been called much more offensive things than ‘girl’, so it didn’t hurt any more – and I dressed accordingly.  

Our sixth form uniform policy was to wear a suit, but I’d adorn my oversized tuxedo blazer with granny brooches, styled with a vintage handbag and army boots embellished with chains and studs. It may sound tacky now, but this was 2009 and babe, it was fierce, trust me. 

One teacher would shout “this isn’t fashion school” at me, which gave me the idea to apply (and get in) to one of the best fashion schools in the world – Central Saint Martins in London. There, I felt sure, I’d finally fit in.  

Ironically, I didn’t. The boys there were girly like me, but I was extra girly… because I was a girl. I finally listened to the boys from my estate and transitioned. 

Even more ironically, when I transitioned, aged 21, I became less girly because the amount of abuse I was getting all day every day was insane. All I wanted was to blend in, so I dressed accordingly. But finally, last year at the age of 31, I realised that although I’d lost my anxiety, I’d also lost myself. So, I made the conscious decision to reconnect with my fabulous little inner gay child. 

It’s the least I can do, now I’m socially ‘allowed’ to wear the girls’ clothes he dreamed of wearing. So I’ve started to make dressing in a way that would make my inner child proud part of my everyday life – not just something I do for a fancy event. It’s also about showing him I’m proud of him, and that we didn’t let the haters who made us want to blend in win.  

I refuse to dull my sparkle by wearing a bit of sparkle. These can be literal (because the correlation between sequins and joy is REAL) or just the euphoric feeling of sparkling, like how I’d feel when I’d put on the girls’ clothes from the dressing up box as a child: true gender euphoria. 

I’m literally my inner child’s dream come true: I am a girl. And I will be that girl to make him proud. 

Charlie Craggs is an award-winning activist, writer and actor based in London. She is the author of To My Trans Sisters and host of the BBC3 documentary Transitioning Teens