I need a party dress.
I was surprised at just how big the shop was on the inside,
As well as this, I was doubly surprised when I realized that there’s also an upper floor.
If the ground floor was scary viewing for a boy,
then the upstairs put the fear of God in me.
Not only does it have a huge selection of the girliest footwear you’ve ever seen,
it also has underwear and sleepwear too.
We had a quick browse upstairs before Mum said that we need to find me a dress before we start choosing underwear and footwear.
“I don’t want underwear!” I blurted.
“Please don’t raise your voice to me, John,” Mum said.
I quietly apologized before quietly telling her that I neither want nor need any of that underwear.
“If you don’t have nice underwear too, you’ll only be half-dressed,” she told me.
I suggested that my own boy’s undies would do, but Mum said it most certainly would not ‘do’.
“You need ‘nice’ underwear,” she informed me.
“Now are you going to help me choose a dress or shall I just choose one for you?”
I shrugged and said they all looked horrible.
Mum asked if that means I want her to choose one for me.
“Well, I can’t choose one…
I hate them all.” I replied.
“So long as it’s not pink or something,” I said.
Mum suggested finding me a nice blue one and I agreed,
before reminding her about the sailor-style one that looked OK.
“Nice as it is,
it’s not really a party dress,” she replied.
“But if you’d really like it,
I don’t mind buying it as well as a party dress.”
“No it’s OK.” I replied.
The last thing I want is two dresses!
We must have spent a whole hour slowly browsing the entire ground floor again.
Mum held numerous options against me,
which was embarrassing enough,
but I almost had a heart attack when she suggested I needed to try one on.
“Please don’t make me try them on Mum… not here!”
“We need to make sure it fits properly.” Mum said,
“It’s a long drive back if it doesn’t.” she reminded me.
Her eyes gazed beyond me and she said
“Oh now that one looks nice!” as something caught her eye.
I turned to see as Mum marched towards it and predictably I claimed it was ‘horrible’.
“It’s beautiful!” she gushed.
“And it’s blue… you wanted a blue one didn’t you?” she said as she held it against me.
Previous suggestions I’d dismissed
I didn’t like the sash or the short puffy sleeves or the shiny satin fabric,
since this dress has none of those,
my mother has deemed it ‘perfect’ for me!
Mum beckoned one of the assistants over and I found myself being briskly led to a changing booth.
I barely had a chance to protest before my T-shirt was whipped off my back,
finding my pants around my ankles within seconds meant it was far too late to make a run for it.
With only my underpants and socks on,
the assistant helfed the dress open for me and my mother told me to raise my arms.
I did as I was told and quickly found it floating around me.
“It’s too short.” I moaned as my trembling fingertips unwillingly found its hem.
“Nonsense.” my mother said as she stood back and admired me.
“Turn around and see what you think.”