“There’s no way that was made for a boy!” I stated.
Mum explained that it’s been ‘cut’ for a flat chest and informed me that girl’s dresses are designed to accommodate a bust.
“It’s still a dress though.”
“It is…
and your sister’s set her heart on everyone wearing dresses so please
…don’t let her down.”
Mum said in a tone that suggested she meant it.
I gulped and nodded, but made it clear that I wasn’t at all happy.
“Now… if you don’t want to try it on,
can I at least hold it against you to check the length?” she asked as she approached with the dreaded dress on its hanger.
I did nothing as she held the dress against me apart from look down at it and gulp.
Mum asked me to hold it so she could step back and have a proper look.
The folds of light pink fabric obscure my feet so I kick out my foot.
The dress, I guess is about knee length, maybe a little shorter.
Mum tells me to hold it a little higher, so the hanger is level with my shoulders.
I raise it and look down again.
I hold its skirt against me and guess that it’s hem is about six inches above the knee.
I begin to wonder what its like to wear such a garment.
It seems highly impractical.
It’s no wonder most girls and women opt for pants, trousers or shorts these days.
I imagine it swishing this way and that.
Having to crouch rather than bend and sitting with my knees together.
“Are you going to stand there all day or…” my mother says, dragging me from my thoughts.
I could feel myself begin to blush.
“I was waiting for to you check the length.”
“It’s fine.” Mum replied as I handed it to her.
“I was hoping it’d be just above the knee.” she added before cocking her head and saying
, “You’ll have to shave your legs.”
“What?!” I exclaimed. “No!” I stated.
“It’ll grow back in no time.” Mum assured.
I tried to visualise the dress with a pair of hairy legs emerging from its folds.
I recalled my earlier protest against the idea of wearing tights instead of socks and retracted it.
“Well… they’ll be thin so…” she shrugged.
“So what?” I gulped.
“The hairs would still show through.” she replied.
I suggested thicker tights. “…like Sally wears for school.
I know for a fact that she opts for tights when she can’t be bothered to shave her legs.”
“True… but I’ve already bought some.” Mum replied as she removed them from one of her bags and showed me the pack.
“You said I could wear socks.”
“You can if you want. You said you’d prefer tights.”
“But…” I looked at them again and gulped. “…they’re lacy.”
“I know.” Mum smiled. “So are the socks I bought you.”
She showed me those too and my bottom lip instinctively stuck out.
“They’re like Sally’s!” I moaned.
My sister is a real girlie girl.
So much so she gets teased at school by her classmates.
“They are.” mum smiled.
“I could have just given you a pair of hers to wear but I figured it’d be nicer to have your own.”.
“I also thought it’d be nice to have a choice, which is why I bought both.”
“Great.” I groaned. “Any more surprises?” I asked.
My tone was deliberately think with apathy.
“A few.” Mum smiled as she put the tights and socks back in the bag.
“Do I really have to shave my legs?” I asked.
“Isn’t there some cream I can use?”
“I was going to suggest cream.” Mum replied.
“Lets see how bad they are.” she requested.
I pulled up my trouser leg to reveal half of my calf, covered in a fuzzy mess of dark brown hair.
Mum told me that regardless of whether is use a razor or depilation cream,
I do need to tackle my leg hair,
otherwise I’d look ridiculous.
“I’ll look ridiculous either way.” I replied as I cast my eyes nervously over the dress I’ll be wearing.
“You’ll look cute.” Mum grinned.
“Same thing.” I grumbled.
The dress soon began its residency in my wardrobe.
The shoes stayed on my feet since I need to get used to wearing them.
If I have to wear heels I’d rather not walk like an amateur drag queen for the duration.
When my sister arrived home, she bounded up to my room insisting on seeing ‘it’.
“Wow this is fantastic.” she said as she held my dress against herself and twirled with it.
God!
She couldn’t be any more girlie of she tried, I thought.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“It’s horrendous.” I replied.
“Have you worn it?” she asked. I shook my head.
“Why not?” she quizzed.
“Or are you saving it for Saturday?”
“Something like that.” I dryly retorted.
“I’m avoiding it ’til Saturday.” I added.
“You could have asked me if I wanted to wear a dress.”
“I did.” she claimed as she hung it back on the rail.
“Sort of.”
“Yeah… sort of!” I retorted before reiterating the conversation we’d had a couple of weeks ago.
“When you said and we’ll all wear party dresses, I though you meant you and your friends.”
Sally shook her head.
“No, I meant all of us.” she replied.
“I was surprised that you agreed.”
“Well I didn’t agree!”
“Did.”
“Didn’t.”
“You did!” she said. “Anyway it’s too late now. Mum’s bought your dress.”
“And shoes.” I said as my head dropped to my feet.
She was flabbergasted that I was actually wearing them.
I lifted the legs of my jeans to give her a proper look.
“Wow… they’ll go perfectly with your dress.”
“You can say that again.” I groaned. “They’re just as horrendous.”
“Why are you wearing them then?”
“Because I don’t want to look like more of an idiot…
I need to be able to walk properly in ’em.”
“True.” she replied. “Any way you won’t look like an idiot… you’ll look cute.”
“I’ll look like a girl.” I whined, before informing her that according to Mum, it’s actually a boy’s dress.
“Well in that case there’s nothing wrong with a boy wearing it… and it’s only for the day.” she shrugged.
“Yeah I guess.”
“It’s gonna be ace! I can’t wait ’til Saturday.” she exclaimed.
“I’ve never had a proper girl’s birthday party before!”
Sally left me alone.
I slumped on my bed and kicked out my feet.
“It’s gonna be so weird.” I muttered as I imagined wearing the full ensemble.
Sally’s got a point I guess.
We’ve always had joint birthday parties and whilst she’s often worn a party dress for the occasion,
she’s never had a proper girls party…
but she soon will have, and so will I.
A while later I sauntered downstairs to grab a snack and watch some TV.
“Still got your new shoes on I see.” Mum said.
“I’m still trying to get used to them.”
“Good for you.”
“When will I have to shave my legs?” I asked.
“Friday evening or Saturday morning would be best.” Mum replied.