Knowing when a suggestion is really an instruction, I followed my Aunt’s lead and browsed the charity shops with her. I subtly informed her that I didn’t want anything prissy or girlie, so she focussed on the plainer styles. Unlike the high class Lingerie shop which has hardly any customers, the charity shops were bustling. My aunt made no secret that it was me we were buying for, and adding to my discomfort, she had me try on anything that I said looked OK. I ended up buying a black pinstriped shift dress, about which my Aunt loudly announced, “It only needs the bust flattening William and it’ll be a perfect fit.” This caused all the other customers to stop in their tracks and stare at me. I must have been bright red as we excited that shop as all eyes were on me.
A few charity shops later, my aunt suggested I try a smart grey skirt suit that she’d spotted on a mannequin in the window display. I tried the jacket for size in the shop and was sent to the changing room to try the skirt. It wasn’t too short and style wise it was conservative enough, but with my knee high tights it looked awful. It did fit and being a bargain at only £10, my aunt sent me to the counter with it and the matching jacket. I joined the short queue and the person in front glanced, then turned. “Hi Will.” I froze at the sight of one of the younger women from my office. “Doing a bit of shopping I see?” she said, glancing at the outfit I held.
“Er… yeah.” I gulped. “You?”
“Just browsing for bargains.” she replied. “You never know what you’ll find in a chazza.” she grinned, staring at me and my purchase.
“Someone you know?” my aunt asked as she approached us.
“Er..yes… this is Sarah from work.” I replied.
“Susan!” my colleague corrected.
“Sorry.” I said before introducing Susan to my aunt.
“So?” Susan said as her eyes dropped to the item I held, “Is that for work?” she asked.
I felt myself begin to blush. “This, oh no.” I said.
“You could wear it for work William.” my aunt interjected. “It’s certainly smart enough.”
“I think I should stick to trousers at work.” I replied.
“You could wear a skirt if you wanted.” Sarah said. “Everyone knows you’re a transvestite so…”
“William is not a transvestite.” Aunt Katinka sternly informed my colleague. “He’s petticoated.”
Susan said she’d heard the phrase at work, but wasn’t sure what it was, or how it differed from a transvestite. “A transvestite choses to be feminine because they enjoy it, where as a petticoatee such as William is instructed to be feminine because it’s the best thing for him.”
“Oh!” Sarah replied. “I thought you did it because you liked it.”
“He does like it.” my aunt informed her, “But only after years of training.”
“Oh OK.” Sarah said, looking slightly perplexed. “I think its quite cute that he wears a bra.” she said, staring at my chest and most likely wondering if I currently wore one or not.
“Yes.” my aunt smiled. “There’s something very sweet about a boy in a bra.” she added. “Show her your new lacy one William.”