“You said the same in the summer when I bought you a skirt remember?” she reminded him. “You didn’t mind it once you’d got over your shyness.” she claimed, adding that he took to wearing heels in no time and liked being a little bit taller. But that was only because his mother had him practising for a fortnight beforehand. He hasn’t worn heels since and isn’t confident that he’ll be able to walk in these chunky high heeled boots. “It’s just like riding a bike.” his mother says. “Once you learn you never forget.”
“That’s easy for you to say… you never wear heels.”
“I did when I was your age.” his mother replied. “I’m sure you’ll be absolutely fine.” she smiled. “I can’t wait to see how you look.” she said, running her fingers over the soft velvet fabric of his dress.
“Do you want me to wear it now?” he mournfully asked.
“Not right now.” she replied. “Later, when we go to the Robson’s.”
“Oh Mu-um… I don’t want to wear it there.” he whined. “I’ll wear it in the house if I have to but…”
“But what?”
“Jacob’ll laugh at me for a start.” he replied. “Plus I might slip in the snow… I’ve only worn heels once and that was six months ago.”
“I very much doubt you’ll slip in the snow Mark.” his mother said, upending one of the boots to reveal the rugged sole. “…and what makes you think Jacob would laugh at you?”
“Because he took the p…. micky out of me in the summer when I had to shave my legs.”
“And once you’d started you didn’t stop.” his mother smiled.
“Only because I don’t like it when they get stubbly.” Mark replied. “If I didn’t have to wear that skirt I’d have never had to start.”
“Does Jacob still tease you for shaving your legs?”
“No.” Mark said. “But he will if I turn up wearing a dress.”
“Alfie wears dresses.” his mother reminded him. Alfie is Jacob’s little brother.
“Yeah but he’s six… I’m fifteen.”
“Please don’t take that tone Mark. It doesn’t matter how old you are. Lots of boys wear dresses these days and you will be wearing yours when we visit the Robson’s later.” she sternly stated. “Now can we put an end to all this moaning and carry on opening presents?”
“Yeah… sorry.” Mark conceded. His mother handed him another gift and informed him that it was also to go with his dress… a handbag, in green velvet too. “Thanks Mum.” he frowned, gulping.
“Have a look inside.” she said.
Inside is two small bags; one is a purse and the other contains a small selection of cosmetics. “Make-up?” he gulped.
“Just a few bits to get you started; eye-liner, mascara, eye-shadow, foundation and a couple of lipsticks.” she told him.
“I don’t know what to do with any of this stuff.” Mark confessed.
“Well the foundation goes on like a moisturiser, and lipstick’s no different to applying a chapstick.” she said. “…and I’ll help you with the eye make-up.” she said, adding that it’s been a few years since she’s worn it.
“I’m not so sure about wearing make-up as well Mum.” Mark replied. “I didn’t at George & Betty’s wedding.”
“You wore foundation and lipstick.” she reminded him.
“But not eye make-up.” he replied.
“No but it wasn’t really thing for boys back then.”
“It was only six months ago.”
“And fashion moves fast.” she told him. “I was reading in Woman and Home only last month that lots of boys are going for full on glamour make-up… not that that’s what I have I mind… I was thinking of something more subtle and natural, just to make your eyes sparkle a bit.” his mother said. Mark wasn’t so sure. “But it’s Christmas.” she reminded him. “…and I’ve bought it now.” she smiled.
“Okay.” Mark apathetically conceded. “I just hope Jacob doesn’t laugh at me for going all femme.”
“Just tell him your mother pestered you into it.” she smiled. “That’s usually what happens.” she said. “…and I think this stuff is more ‘homme’ than ‘femme’.” my mother added. “Being feminine means minimal make-up if any at all in this day and age.”
