The satin knickers and bra-top have loads of lacy trim. They’re so very girlie I have to stop myself from giggling at my reflection. But it’s not just my underwear… it’s me too. With not a single hair covering my legs or arms they look slim and slender and, dare I say it, altogether girlie.
I don the silky dressing gown and return to my mother’s room. Thankfully she doesn’t ask to see how nice my new underwear looks. Instead, she sits me at her dressing table and begins to run a damp comb through my hair. Then, after separating front from back, she begins to section off the back half and takes to it, bit by bit, with a pair of electric curling tongs. After five or ten minutes, she popped downstairs to check on the cakes. I spent a few moments grimacing at the handful of curls she’d put in. “I knew she was going to do something like this.” I said to myself as I cast my eyes over the items on her dressing table. For a woman who doesn’t seem to wear make-up very often, she seems to have an awful lot of it. “Oh that’s gonna be next isn’t it!” I say to myself as I realise that there’s much more to wearing a dress than just wearing a dress. I arrange my silky robe over my lap and enjoy how it feels against my hairless skin. I sneak a quick peak of my curious little knickers, or ‘really nice underpants’ as Mum claims them to be. They’re kinda cute I guess, I think as Mum returns. She continues curling my hair and as a mass of tight ringlets cover the back and sides of my head, Mum asks me what I think. “Sally’ll like it.” I gulp.
“Sally will love it!” she assured. “Now I’m going to trim your fringe… just a tiny bit.” she said. In for penny, I figured. My fringe needs the occasional trim anyway, but what I wasn’t prepared for was just how wide my fringe would become. She cut it arrow straight from almost ear to ear and combined with the short bouncy ringlets, I already looked more like a girl than a boy. “Now I’m not sure whether to put a simple pink ribbon in it or a big Lolita bow.. what do you think?”
“Errr…. I dunno. I’ll let you decide.” I hesitantly replied. “Maybe just a ribbon?”
“I think so.” she said before putting a plastic head band on me and using it to hold my fringe off my face. “This is just whilst I do your make up.” she said.
“How are those cakes getting on?” I asked.
“Sally’s got it under control.” Mum confidently replied, before trotting to the landing and hollering, “Sally… are those cakes OK?” Mum returned and began applying moisturiser, powder and all sorts of other stuff to my face. It was fascinating watching my natural skin tone be replaced with an even sheen, then seeing shadows and highlights added to my face. Mum reminisced over days gone by as she applied all the layers. “It’s hard to imagine that women had to do this every morning before going to work… even going to the shop they were expected to paint themselves and do their hair.” she said. “Life’s a lot easier these days when we only do it for special occasions.” she added.
“Sally would have liked it.” I knowingly replied.
“Sally would have loved it.” Mum grinned. “How about you? Enjoying yourself?”
“Well…” I chuffed. “…I’m not really doing anything. You’re doing all the work.” I said. “It’s kind of nice being pampered I suppose.”
“Good.” Mum smiled. “It’s nice doing some pampering for a change.” After short while, Mum said “Right, that’ll do for now.”
“But… I haven’t got any lipstick on yet.” I said.
“You may as well leave that until after lunch… it’d only need reapplying.” she said. “Now you’ve got to be very careful.. no rubbing your eyes, in fact, no touching your face, or you’ll ruin it.”
“OK.” I gulped. “Can I put my dress on yet?”
“If you want.” Mum replied. “But you’ll need your stockings on first.”
“I thought I was wearing tights?”
“Same thing really.” she claimed as she dug her hand into the big boutique carrier bag and retrieved the little pack of lacy stockings. I pulled them on and pulled them all the way up to my thighs.
Mum said they look lovely. “Will they stay up on their own?” I asked.
“Not for long.” Mum replied. “Which is why you need this.”
“What’s that?” I asked. The curious garment matched my underwear perfectly and it’s straps suggested a bra-like garment… but I’m already wearing one of those.
“It’s a suspender belt.” she replied. “It goes around your waist and these…” she showed me the little clips, “…clip onto your stocking tops.” She also explained that it needs to go beneath my undies.
