The following day at school, I cautiously asked one of my friends if he’d attended last year’s Prom and if he’d be attending this year’s too. He said yes to both and I asked what he’d be wearing. “Whatever my Mother decides.” he replied. I asked him what he wore last year and he described a ghastly yellow party dress with white spots and a white satin sash. “What do you wanna know for anyway?” he asked.
“My Mother wants me to choose my own but I don’t know anything about dresses.” I explained. I told him that before I started at Endsleigh Comp, I’d never worn any girl’s clothing before and the prospect of shopping for a prom dress is somewhat daunting.
“Yeah.” Paul sighed. “It’s not fun.” he claimed. “If your Mother’s anything like my Mother, she’ll just buy you whatever she wants anyway.” he told me, before asking if I have to wear girl’s clothes outside of school.
I shook my head but said that I have to keep my uniform on until I’ve completed my homework, although I didn’t tell him that I have to wear knickers all of the time. Paul said I was lucky. “Do you?” I asked. He’s not what I’d consider one of the ‘girlie’ boys as like me, he has short boyish hair.
Paul nodded. “Not all the time.” he stressed.
The next time my mother raised the conversation about my Prom dress, I glumly suggested that I’d leave it up to her, since I don’t know anything about girl’s clothes. “Just don’t get me pink.” I added.
“You’re really not looking forward to it are you.” Mother said. I shook my head and she asked why. The reasons should be obvious, but I listed them anyway. “I think it’s a simple case of fear of the unknown.” Mother suggested. “How about we have a root through Jane’s wardrobe?”
“What for!?” I asked.
“Well…” Mother began. “…she’s got plenty of nice clothes she hardly wears any more and the more time you spend getting used to wearing ‘nice’ clothes, the less you’ll worry about it.”
“I wear girl’s clothes everyday at school.” I muttered.
“I know but they’re not that ‘nice’ are they?” my mother said.
Although I agreed, I said nothing. Later that evening I overheard my sister and my mother talking in Jane’s bedroom. “I thought you liked that dress?” Mother’s voice said.
“Nah… I only wore it because Granny bought it for me.”
“Well I think it’s nice enough.” Mother replied. “Now are you sure you don’t want any of these?”
After a brief silence, Jane’s voice said “Yeah I think so… I’d love to keep [this, that and this] but they hardly fit me any more.”
I continued to my bedroom and shut the door. A pile of clean laundry lay on my bed. It’s mostly whites, so socks, underwear and my school shirts, plus my light coloured T shirts, jogging pants and stonewashed jeans. I began to put them away when I heard a knock on my door. I turned and my mother entered with a bundle of clothes slung over her forearm. I gulped as I noticed some less than desirable prints. Mother smiled and told me that she and Jane had had a bit of a sort out. “Have you got any spare hangers in your wardrobe?” she asked.
“A couple.” I reluctantly replied as she laid the items on my bed. “Oh not flowers!” I whined.
Mother just smiled at me as she sorted the selection in to what I assume is drawer stuff and wardrobe stuff. “There’s some of her old training bras too.” my mother stated as she placed a colourful ‘strappy’ bundle with my pile of clean laundry.
“I’m not allowed to wear those.” I told her. The school rules are quite clear that only white underwear is permitted.
“Not at school you’re not.” Mother replied. “She’s given you a few pairs of leggings too.” my mother added, “…which will be nice with these.”
“Shorts!” I moaned. Apart from half length cargo pants, I’ve always hated wearing shorts… and there are short!
“Yep.” Mother smiled. “It’s not all skirts and dresses.” she told me, holding open a powder-purple long sleeved T shirt with a pink peace symbol printed on it. And just to give it a girlier edge… the symbol is made up from hundreds of tiny love hearts.
“That’d be OK if it wasn’t for the hearts.” I said.
“I had a feeling you’d like it.” Mother grinned.
“That’s not what I said!” I insisted. My mother smiled as she folded the T shirt and suggested that instead of just ‘standing there’ I could start putting my things away. She picked up the pile of Jane’s old training bras and plonked them in my hands. “Does this mean I have to dress as a girl all the time now?” I reluctantly asked.
“Not all the time.” Mother replied. “But don’t you find it a bit boring wearing boy’s clothes all the time?” she asked as she hung a floral dress on a hanger. “Wouldn’t you rather to wear something like this on a nice summer’s day instead of pants and a T shirt?”
“Boy’s clothes aren’t boring.” I replied. “And I don’t wear boy’s clothes all the time… and I wear girl’s clothes at school everyday remember.”
“Which means a few more choices won’t be a huge leap for you.” Mother replied.
