Peter removed the cute green jumper, followed by the plan black sports bra. A couple of socks fell onto his lap. He made vaguely witty comment about the benefits of having a spare pair. I told him that loads of girls his age carry socks in their bra. “Isn’t that a myth?” he asked. I shook my head and told him that I stuffed my bra when mine were developing. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to look like a woman, not a girl.”

“What do I look like?” he asked after pulling the lace trimmed crop top on.

“You look like a boy who’ll do anything for money.” I grinned, before helping him to convincingly stuff it. “Now you look like a girl.” I winked.

He donned the lime green cropped jumper and took his position once more, I took a photograph. It looked much better. “Let me see.” he asked. I showed him and he reckoned the shorts would look better with thicker, black tights.

I disagreed and told him his legs look nice. “You can hardly tell you’ve got tights on.” I claimed, before suggesting heels might look better than flat shoes.

“Well… make your mind up.” he retorted, stating that it’s been almost three hours and we’ve still got loads to do.

“Yeah… sorry.” I replied, checking the current time. “I might have to rope you in again tomorrow.”

“I’ve already resigned myself to that fact.” he groaned. “By the time we’ve got through this lot I’ll have forgotten what it’s like to be a boy.”

I chuckled. He chuckled. I chose his next outfit. “You know if there’s anything you like, just say so.” I said.

“Why?”

“Because I might let you have it at a discount.” I jovially replied. “…and you wouldn’t have to pay P&P.” I added.

“The amount of work I’m putting in I’d expect a freebie.” he replied, before quickly adding “Scrub that… just sell it all, then I won’t have to wear any of it again.”

We spent another hour putting him in different outfits. Jeans, trousers, shorts, leggings, pedal pushers, T shirts, vests, jumpers, blouses and hoodies. Peter said he quite liked the plain leggings, but detested the spotty, flowery and other particularly girlie styles. He donned a sporty pair with a broad white stripe up the side and said they were ‘cool’. I said he could keep them since they won’t fetch more than a pound, but he declined the offer. He liked my old Roxy hoodie too, but figured that being a deep purple it might be a bit ‘girlie’ for him. “Is it ‘eck.” I claimed. “Girl’s hoodies are exactly the same as boy’s ones… it’s not like it’s pink or lilac.” I added. He reluctantly yet graciously accepted the hoodie and I declared that we’d done enough for today. “Are you OK to carry on tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yeah I guess.” he half-heartedly replied.

“I’ll warn you though, it’s gonna be mostly skirts and frocks.”

“I know… in for a penny.” he shrugged.

“You’re the best.” I smiled. Peter retired to his room and spent a while sorting out some combinations for tomorrows ‘shoot’ and looking at the photos from today. It’ll be a pity to crop his head off them since I’d done such a good job with his hair and make-up. I can tell that it’s Peter but I don’t think anyone else would recognise him or even realise that he’s not a teenage girl. I closed my laptop and headed downstairs to fix myself a bedtime snack. Mum asked if she could have a look at the pictures. “I’ve just shut my lappy down but they’re looking pretty good.”

“Did he enjoy it?” Mum asked.

“Not sure.” I shrugged. “He certainly looked more comfortable after a while, and he actually suited some outfits.”

“It’s a pity boys don’t have the same choices as girls.” Mum suggested. “When I was your age we had the New Romantics… I was hoping it’d be more than just a fad but it turned out to be little more than a flash in the pan.” she said, before telling me how she had a huge crush on Martin from Depeche Mode. “I had posters of him all over my room.”