“We also have those in baby blue.” the lady says to my aunt. “Which I suspect maybe more your colour?” she said directly to me as a smug grin swept her face. “Unfortunately we’ve sold out of pink.. they were very sweet.” she added in a tone that suggested I’d be disappointed. I recalled as a child when my aunt explained my petticoating regime to random people women, how they’d always exhibit shock or despair and more often than not, utter disgust… for about two minutes. Then they’d get in on the act and start telling how nice it must be to wear pretty things, suggesting all manner of girlie things that I should wear or do, using words like sweet, dainty or cute to describe me or my attire.