The following weekend, they go to visit Peter’s granny. Peter was fine with this until his mother tells him that he’ll be wearing his pink dress. Peter pleaded with her to let him go in his boy clothes. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you Peter.” he mother stated, “Dresses are boys clothes these days.”

“But please mum, not the pink one… can’t I wear my blue one instead?”

“Well you wore that for your party last week.” his mother replied. “I didn’t buy it just to hang in your wardrobe.”

“But… I’ll wear it next week, please can I wear my blue one?”

His mother sighed impatiently. “Peter.” she said sternly, “Pink dress, whether you like it or not.. I’m sure your cousin Michael doesn’t sulk and moan every time he has to wear a dress.”

“Ohhhhhhh!” he exclaimed before taking his pink dress off its hanger. Once he was dressed his mother told him how nice he looked, before completing his outfit with a pink headband. “Do have to wear a headband too?” he asked.

“Well you want to look nice don’t you?” his mother replied.

“Not really.”

“Well I want you to look nice.” she stated as she arranged his hair around his headband. She then told him to close his eyes before spraying his entire head with hairspray.

“What’s that?” It stinks!”

“It’s to keep your hair in place… so make sure you don’t touch it.”

It was an hours drive to his grandmother’s house and Peter felt like a meringue as he sat in the passenger seat with his petticoats piled on his lap. His grandmother told him he looked very pretty, but added that it was very strange seeing boys in dresses instead of girls. “I think it’s a shame that girls don’t wear dresses any more… I used to like wearing dresses but your mother never did.” his grandmother reminisced. “I had to fight her into a dress every time I wanted her to look nice.”

“Just as I’m having to battle Peter in to his.” his mother replied. “It’s worth it though, he does look adorable.” she added, before showing her mother some photographs from his birthday party the previous weekend.. “You remember James and Michael?” she said, pointing them out. “And these are two of Peter’s friends from school, and that’s Nigel, a boy from down the road.”

“Oh my… they all look so nice.” his granny said as she flicked through the photographs. “Well now is as good a time as any to give you your birthday present.” she said, pulling a bundle of gift wrapped parcels from besides her chair. “I do hope you like them.”

Peter said thank you as he took the bundle; wrapped in pale pink paper with a bright pink bow around each parcel. He untied the ribbon of the first and smallest gift before removing the paper.

“Oh that’s very nice!” his mother said as Peter unwrapped a nightdress. It was white with pink trim and came with a matching pair of knickers. “You haven’t got a nightie have you?”

Being in polite mode, Peter thanked his grandmother and told her that he liked it very much, before unwrapping the next gift. This time it was a pair of white satin slippers, each with a single pink bow. Peter forced a smile and said thank you, before unwrapping the final gift; a pale pink dressing gown with white trim that perfectly complemented his slippers and nightie. Again, Peter did the right thing and said thank you.

His granny said he was welcome, and added, “It’s a good job you like pink isn’t it.”

Peter wanted so much to put her straight, but that would have been rude. He is after all wearing a pink dress with pink shoes and has a pink headband in his hair, so he can hardly start claiming otherwise. Peter just smiled and blushed.

“So what else did you get for your birthday?” she asked.

Peter told her about the Nintendo Wii³, the books and CDs he’d been given, along with the bits and bobs his guests hade given him. And with a little prompting from his mother, the blue dress he wore for his party, his pyjamas, his new duvet set and the Hello Kitty bath set which made him smell nice. “She must think I’m such a sissy.” he thought as he pretended to like each and every one of them.

Granny couldn’t stop looking at her grandson. She’d never seen him in a dress before and in her day boys were positively discouraged from wearing dresses, even if they wanted to. “The poor thing looks just as uncomfortable as his mother did when she was a girl…” his grandmother thought, “…she hated looking pretty and wearing dresses in equal measure.” As far as his grandmother was concerned, dresses were just something pretty that girls wore, but for his mother they were at best humbling and at worst humiliating. Quite when they became considered a symbol of subservience his grandmother wasn’t sure, but that shift in perception was responsible for them slipping out of popularity with her daughter’s generation… that she was sure of.

On the way home, Peter’s mother complements him on his behaviour today. “I think Granny was pleased that you’d worn your dress for her.” she says. “And didn’t you get some lovely gifts?”

Peter looks at his lap, clad in pink satin which almost levitates above his legs thanks to the petticoat beneath. “I guess… It just feels weird being given girlie stuff all of a sudden.” he replied.

“It’s not really girlie stuff though is it.” his mother replied, “You know that.”

“You know what I mean though.” Peter replied. “Granny said when she was young only girls wore dresses and boys didn’t. Even if they wanted to they couldn’t because only girl’s wore dresses.”

“Well… your grandmother is from a time when women were subservient to men. Girl’s didn’t wear dresses because they were girls, they wore them because they were subservient.” she explained, “And now that men are subservient to women, it’s your turn.”

“Hmm.” Peter groaned. He’d heard the reasoning behind it so many times but it still wasn’t right or fair. “Why can’t we be sub-si… sub-ser…”

“Sub-ser-vient.” his mother corrected.

“…subservient and wear pants?”

“Because pants don’t look as nice.” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, “…and it’s important to look nice because when you’re older you’ll need to find a wife to support you.” she adds.

“I could support myself.” Peter replied.

“It’s getting harder and harder for men to support themselves Peter. There’s not many jobs for them and those there are aren’t well paid or full time.” she explained. “Even university graduates struggle to get anything better than an admin job, the best you could hope for would be domestic service… or a wife with a decent career…”

Words like graduate, admin and domestic meant little to Peter so his mother’s words went in one ear and out of the other. He just wondered why something so weird was supposedly so normal all of a sudden. “At least it’s only once a week.” he thought as they pulled onto the driveway.

As Peter went to open the door his mother said “Not yet Peter, I’ll let you out… you did it all wrong at granny’s.”

“Eh?” Peter thought as his mother jogged round to his side and opened the door for him. “Now you don’t just climb out as if you’re wearing pants Peter.” she said, before explaining that he should keep his knees and ankles together and twist on his seat, “Then put your feet down and…” she watches him alight the car in the proper manner, “…very good.”

“Why do I have to do it like that?” he asked.

“So nobody sees up your dress.” his mother replied with a grin.

“Oh.” Peter replied as his mother unlocked the front door. “Can I change?” he asked the moment he was inside.

“It’s Sunday Peter, you wear a dress on Sunday’s and that means all day.” she reminds him.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it was my blue one.” he sulked.

“Oh but you look so nice in pink.” his mother teased before planting a kiss on his forehead.

A few hours later it was bath time and Peter was finally allowed out of his Sunday dress. Unfortunately for Peter his mother suggested he tries on his new nightclothes. He complained that the nightie was too short, but his mother said, “That’s why it comes with knickers.”

“I know but…” he looks at his reflection and raises his arms, which in turn raises the nightie which in turn, reveals the frilly knickers that come with it. “You’re not supposed to see them.”

“It’s fine.” his mother insists. “It’s supposed to be short because it’s a summer nightie… come winter I’ll buy you a longer one.”

After school the following day, Peter writes his grandmother a thank you letter. With his mother’s guidance it reads: