There is one hobby I like, and that is visiting the charity shops, and perusing through the clothes, that are women’s clothes. I just look in amazement, at the bras hanging on a rail, the dresses, skirts, tops, bags, shoes, belts, jewelry and other accessories.
I was in one charity shop, as there seem to be now, several at least in a town. Looking at the tops, blouses, and seeing no one there, that knew me, I felt relaxed.
Then a voice said to me, ” what are you doing here.?”
I turned around slowly, to be face-to-face, with my cousin Patricia.
Oh, hi, I was just looking, with me now reddening my cheeks.
Looking at women’s tops, why, asking Pat ?
Oh sometimes, there is a top here, that looks like a man’s shirt, but not today, as I now looked straight ahead, to the dresses.
Patricia, read my mind, and smiled.
Look my sweet cousin, if you are here to buy some ladies wear, then go ahead,
I would not impede you, in any way, but remain silent, until you ask me for my advice or wish me to comment on some item.
Come on, look at this blouse, it’s cobalt blue, you like that color, don’t you?
I nodded, well then, what’s your dress size?
Her now seemingly to take charge.
Your bra cup size.
Oh gosh please Patricia. What’s wrong with you, her now reveling in my embarrassment.
There’s nothing wrong, buying feminine attire, to wear in your own home.
Patricia, please, I beg you.
Then a voice summoned us back to the tops, here’s one for you dear, holding up a red poppy print sheer blouse.
It was Patricia;s mom Ann. I now was sandwiched, between my kin folk, in the ladies section of the charity shop, and other women, entering.
Come on nephew, I shall treat you, I shall buy it for you, it’s your size 16.
I just wanted to exit the shop like lightning, but that was not going to happen. Meanwhile, Patricia, was holding up a hot pink nightdress, yes a nightie, saying this be so cozy, for you to wear in bed.
The women now seemed to close in on me, feeling like Custer, at the Battle of Little Big Horn. There is no escape.
What’s his dress size? Came a woman, asking my aunt.
A size 16; he is love.
Well look at this pretty dress for him, as she pulled it off the rail, and held it aloft.
Oh no, this is a nightmare, as the dress was a button through pink and white gingham.
There are shoes here, a pair of flats, to go with that dress, came another woman.
What Size is he? Size 5.
Oh that’s good, I am a size 5; so luckily, I have a pair like this.
My mobile went, and it was my elder sister, asking my whereabouts.
Patricia, indicated to me, to pass her the phone, but I nodded a no, then her face went angry, so handed it to her.
Hi cousin Josie, we are helping him, to fill his closet, with clothes he will possibly wear this evening at home.
What clothes are they, my sister on the phone asking?
WOMEN’S CLOTHES, my cousin said aloud. Well the roar of laughter in the shop was at a high decibel, then suddenly, my aunt grabbed my arm and ushered me to the changing cubicle, for me to try on the clothes, and model for all there.
I had to undress to my, No, not underpants, but I was wearing pink knickers. Well, all eyes were on me, and some women, licking their lips, as if I was their favorite pastry. All this time, I was being videoed on women’s mobile phones. I pleaded no photos or videos, but to no avail, as how can I have a voice of patriarchy authority, when I was wearing an Alice in Wonderland frock, with petticoat and black patent Mary Jane shoes, exposing my white anklet socks, with a ruff around the top of them.
My long hair, tied in a pink ribbon, and aunt Ann, applying make-up to my face. I knew I would not be leaving the shop, before they had their fun with me, but I never thought I would leave the shop dressed and made up as a prepubescent girl.
The thought of catching the bus, but luckily, aunt Ann, telling her daughter Patricia, we best take her home in the car, so we know she will arrive safe and that her mom and sister are waiting for her.
Come on Alice, into the car good girl. How am I going to live this down, as aunt and cousin, will be enlightened, that my mom and sister already knew, I dressed up at home, to help with chores and housework.
A month later, my mom told me aunt will be coming tomorrow, to take you to her home, for a while.
Why mom, I asked?
To properly feminize you, my little girl Alice.
I had no choice, as the photos would go on social media, if I refused to comply and go with my aunt Ann.
Written by Jane.