My sister thought for a moment. “Yeah fair enough… I was just day dreaming.” she said. “It would be nice to see how you’d look though…” she paused. “…in a little floaty dress and a little bit of make-up.”
I thought for a moment. “One step at a time eh?”
“I’d also like to see how you look in my old Malton Grammar uniform… I know you’ve borrowed that a couple of times.” she informed me. “And my bottle green tights.” she added. “Didn’t you find them itchy?”
“Very.” I gulped. My sister asked why, since I’ve stated several times that I’m not into the idea of wearing skirts or dresses, why I wore her old school uniform. “I dunno… to see how it looked I guess.” I replied. “You can’t just wear the tights…” I added.
“I hated them.” Hannah replied. “What on earth compelled you to want to wear them?”
“I dunno… intrigue?” I supposed. “I remember you hating them and wanted to know what was so bad about them.”
“Everything!” she retorted. “The colour, the rough itchy knit, the waistbands were rubbish and I spent half my time hitching them up… and we had to buy them from the school shop!” she listed. “You boys don’t know how lucky you are.” she stated.
I cast my eyes down my long nylon clad legs. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like we’re lucky.” I mournfully claimed. “Girls these days can do pretty much anything they want; police, army, engineering, computers, science, sport…” I said. “…and they can wear what they want too; jeans, jumpers, T shirts, trainers, trousers, trackies, hoodies.”
“Yeah but… you could wear whatever you want.” Hannah replied. “Kurt Cobain did… he wore dresses.”
“Yeah but… he was a rock star, he also looked terrible in them, and he shot himself.”
“OK… maybe not the best example.” Hannah grinned. She mused for a moment before sighing. “The only others I can think of don’t look great either.”
“Thanks.” I grumbled.
“I didn’t mean you… I mean on the telly.” she said, listing Eddie Izzard and Grayson Perry.
“Is that the bloke who dresses like a little girl?” I asked. Hannah nodded. “That’s a bit weird… you should at least dress your age.”
“Yeah… but he’s an artist, it’s a statement I guess.” she replied. “I couldn’t see you dressing like that.”
“Me neither.” We shared a warm comfortable moment. It felt good being open, being on the level, being friends and listening to music… in a state of nirvana, so to speak. The LP eventually finished and Hannah asked what I was going to pay next. “I was gonna go and watch TV.” I said as I slid the vinyl into it’s dust cover. “…and show my face.”
“Oh put another record on.” she cooed.
“I could… I just don’t want Mum & Dad thinking I’m hiding myself away… you know.”
“Just do what you’d normally do.” Hannah suggested.
“Yeah I guess.” I agreed. “What’s it gonna be then? AC/DC, Radiohead, Kings of Leon or Nirvana again?”
“In Rainbows.” she replied. “Can I look at the sleeve?”
We eventually returned downstairs where Mum asked what we’d been doing. “Listening to Pete’s LPs.” Hannah told her. “…and chatting.”
“So you two are friends again?” Mum asked, aiming the question at both of us.
Hannah and I looked and smiled at one another. “Yeah.” we said.
“Glad to hear it.” our mother said. We watched TV, ate supper, chatted, nattered and watched more TV until Dad went to the pub. Hannah was in her room chatting on the phone to one of her friends, leaving Mum and I in front of the telly. “So how’s today been?” she asked.
“OK.” I replied. “Good, in fact.” I added. “I was a bit nervous to begin with but, I feel quite comfortable now.”
“You look comfy.” Mum said. “Those shorts really suit you.”
“Thanks.” I shyly replied. “They’re a bit too short I think.”
“I don’t think so.” she replied. “Some girls wear them a lot shorter than that.” she added.
“I think these are about as short as it’s going to get.”
“Glad to hear it.” Mum said. “And if you do start wearing skirts, I expect them to be significantly longer.”
“I’m not really planning on that either.” I claimed. “Hannah was trying to talk me into wearing a dress before.”
“Any one in particular?” Mum asked. I shrugged. “There’s quite a few I think might suit you.”
“Oh not you too.” I whined.
“What?” she defensively asked. I skewed my jaw whilst thinking of a response. “If you’re going to try different things you may as well be adventurous… and it seems a shame to have all those outgrown clothes doing nothing.”
“I thought they were supposed to be going to the charity shop.”
“That’s the idea, but whether they actually get there is another matter.” Mum said. “We can’t let them go without having a sort through though… not now.”