Women and girls began to turn their back on skirts and dresses many many years ago. One inevitable side effect meant they ceased to remove their body hair… in fact doing so was considered another symbol of subservience, along with wearing perfume, make-up and earrings. Peter’s mother is a typical woman of the age. She’s never worn a skirt or a dress in her adult life, she’s never worn make-up or perfume, she’s never shaved her legs or armpits, and has never worn high-heeled shoes. In fact, the only things the modern woman has in common with those of days gone by is the blob, boobs, bras, birth, and babies. And the babies are handed over to the husband as soon as the nursing period is over.
“I know Michael shaves his legs…. and I guess he’ll either use a razor, a cream, or wax them.” Peter’s mother says. “Why don’t you ask him next time we visit?” she suggests.
Some of the guys in Peter’s class obviously shave. The boys in skirts with hairy legs just look silly. Peter is lucky to be relatively fair so his leg hairs don’t stand out that much. If anything they look more out-of-focus than hairy. He ponders asking one of the boys in his class for advice but shies away from the idea.
Joanne King, however; being pretty much the only girl in the entire school who still wears a skirt also clearly shaves her legs, so on Friday, Peter sheepishly approaches her. “Hi Joanne,” he says.
“Hi Pete,” she replies, looking him up and down. “I’m glad you decided to wear a skirt,” she says. “It’s got to be easier than getting kneed in the balls every week.”
“er… yeah, I suppose,” Peter replies. After a brief uncomfortable silence, Peter asks, “Do you think I should shave my legs?”
“Sure,” she replies without hesitation.
“Figured as much.” he frowns. “How do you do yours?”
“With a razor.” she bluntly replies, implying it’s both obvious and none of his business.
“Sorry.” Peter hangs his head. “I just don’t know how and don’t know who to ask, apart from you.”
Joanne tells him that it’s easy. So explains the soap, the lather, and the few minutes to let it soften the hairs. “Then you just pull a razor over it and rinse it, over and over ’til there’s no hair left,” she tells him. “And then do the same thing to your chin,” she adds with a sheepish smile.
“You better not be chatting him up sissy girl!” a voice suddenly shouted.
Peter looked around to see a group of four girls quickly approaching. He turns back to Joanne who disappears around a corner. He looks back and the four girls are all around him. “What?” he asks.
“Curtsey before you address me boy!” the ringleader ordered.
“What?” Peter said in a trembling voice.
“You know!” she said, bearing down on him threateningly. “Now curtsey!”
Peter gulped, grabbed his skirt, and curtseyed.
The girls tittered. “That’s better.” the ringleader said as she stepped back. “Stay away from that sissy girl pretty boy.” she ordered, grabbing Peter’s cheek and pulling him towards her, “You’re too good for the likes of her,” she said before letting him go and marching off with her posse.
The following week Peter encounters Joanne being bullied by the other girls. The four of them surround her, call her names like sissy-girl and tell her she’s even lower than the boys; “Trying to look pretty for the boys? You’re the lowest of the low and an insult to the rest of us!” The ringleader barks as she holds Joanne by her blouse. She then grabs and lifts Joanne’s skirt, asking her why she dresses like a boy. “…I bet you’re even wearing frillies you cowering servile tart!”
Peter steps in shouting “Leave her alone!” as he pushes the ringleader off Joanne. As quick as anything he gets kneed in the balls and finds himself cowering on the floor. Through teary eyes, he looks up at the girl who’d just put him down.
“I thought now you’re wearing a skirt you’d know your place!” she says as he squirms at her feet. She looks at Joanne who stares sympathetically down on Peter, “Well your boyfriend didn’t save you this time damsel.” She looks back at Peter, still squirming and orders her minions to pick him up. Peter is dragged to his feet and held fast. “Now unless you want…” Again she knees Peter as hard as she can in the balls, “…this to happen to your boyfriend every day…” she watches Peter crumple to the floor in agony, “…you’ll stop dressing like a boy… DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” she shouts, right in Joanne’s trembling face. Joanne nods, trying her best not to cry. The ringleader turns her attention back to Peter, still breathless and clutching his groin. She warns him to stay away from Joanne, “…unless you want another kiss on your nuts, pretty boy.”
The group of aggressors leaves them alone and Joanne crouches down over Peter’s writhing body. “I’m sorry.“ she says with tears in her eyes, “You should have stayed away… I’ll do what they say…” she says as she tries to help him up.
Peter tells her not to give in to them, that she should wear what she likes and that it’s got nothing to do with them. Joanne agrees as she finally helps Peter to his feet. He wipes his eyes and straightens his skirt. Joanne asks him if he’s OK and bravely he nods whilst clearly he’s not.
The end of the break bell sounds and they both look randomly into space. Peter reminds her not to give in to them before they part company and head to their respective classes; Joanne walks in one direction, Peter hobbles in the other.
The following day, Peter is disheartened to see that Joanne attends school wearing trousers, a plain shirt, and flat lace-up shoes for the first time. “At least those girls seem to be leaving her alone now.” he thinks as they share a distant smile.
