Clothes Maketh the ManA Story by Wandering Violet
Shopping for clothes is what most women love, but when you're not free to be yourself, it's a kind of Hell...
Clothes Maketh the Man
But I didn’t even take it off the rack to try on, because I knew I wouldn’t buy it. Instead I made myself focus on a pile of frilly tops, little floaty things a ballerina might like. So feminine, so pretty, so totally what I did not want to wear.
You look lovely, Lisa, Mum said tenderly to me last week. I wish you’d wear that top more often, it brings out the blue of your eyes.
Maybe it did, but I loathed it. I was happiest in jeans and a shirt for casual, or for more dressed up occasions, something formal and suit-like. The more masculine the style, the better I liked it.
Not that I could ever tell Mum though " that was why I resolutely picked up a disgusting piece of silky stuff and carried it to the counter. I hoped Mum would be pleased.
As I swiped my credit card and keyed in the PIN, I glanced sideways at the customer to my right. She was a confident young woman, cute short dark hair and a tattoo visible on her neck.
I dragged my eyes away, because she was buying one of those jackets that I wanted.
© 2011 Wandering Violet
AboutI’m Wandering Violet, a young Kiwi writer. I hope you enjoy reading my ramblings :-) I’m a great believer in equality, and I hate discrimination in all forms. I'm lesbian and Chris.. more..
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