Shopping With Mother

Mum and I would visit the city every month or two. She likes the much bigger choice of clothes shops and bargain stores whilst I enjoy the gadget and media stores and visiting the museums. Mum likes galleries which can be tedious, depending on the exhibition... but the same can be said for the museums. This time, there's a new indoor market she wants to visit. It's set on three floors of some big old warehouse, so each floor is huge, filled with seemingly hundreds of little stores selling games and gadgets, records, furniture, junk, posters, vintage, modern and even military fashions... all sorts of stuff. There's almost nothing to buy but plenty to look at. It's almost a museum or art gallery in its own right.



“Ooh look at these.” Mum said, gently taking hold of the skirt of a delicate looking dress. “Aren't they beautiful?”

“I guess.” I said as we peered into the small stall that seemed to be almost bursting at the seams with the number of dresses on its rails. Each and every one is as frilly as frilly can be.

“I sometimes wish you were a girl so I could buy you things like this.” she sighed. As an eleven-year-old boy, I didn't know how to respond. I gulped and looked up at her. She smiled and told me not to worry. “Boy's don't wear dresses.” she added.

On our previous visit to the city, there was an exhibition of vintage children's clothing at the big museum. It was mostly boring because most of the exhibits were dresses... but it was interesting too because one tends to learn things that they never knew beforehand. One thing I learned at that exhibition was that boys did once wear dresses. “We used to.” I said. “They had some at that exhibition.”

“Oh yes they did didn't they!” Mum replied in an almost enlightened tone. She stepped into the stall and began browsing. I dutifully followed but felt more than a little out of place. “Some of these aren't dissimilar to some of those dresses.” she commented, referring back to the exhibition.

“Which ones?” I asked. “The boys or the girls?”

“Both really.” she smiled. “There wasn't much difference between the boy's and girl's dresses.”

I cast my mind back and visualised some of the photographic exhibits and Mum is absolutely right.


“It's weird that boys used to wear dresses, and now we don't... but girls never used to wear pants, and now they do.” I pondered.

“It is when you think about it isn't it.” Mum replied as she perused some pastel coloured petticoats.

“It'd make more sense if we just wore both.”

“I suppose it would.” Mum replied. “But if there's one thing you'll learn when you're a grown up...” she paused as she picked up a shoe. “...most of the time the world doesn't make much sense.” She put the shoe back and having browsed all the around the tiny stall, she asked if I'd seen anything I like.

I shook my head, quickly glanced around and said “They're all girl's clothes.”

“They're all dresses.” Mum retorted as if correcting me. She reminded me of the boy's dresses in the exhibition last month. “Do you think those boys thought they were wearing girl's clothes or just dresses?” she asked.

I pondered for a few seconds. “Erm... just dresses I guess.”

“It's just a matter of perception really.”

“Yeah... like when girls dress like this...” I looked down at my jumper, jeans and trainers. “...they're not wearing boy's clothes, they're just wearing clothes.”

“Exactly.” Mum said. She cast her eyes around the stall again and said, “Imagine a world in which both boys and girls can wear dresses.” she paused and I pulled my perplexed expression. “Now have a look around to see if there's anything you like.”

“But...” I grimaced. “...they're all dresses.”

“I know.” Mum chuckled. “We're pretending that that doesn't matter.”

“You're not going to buy me it are you?” I gulped.

“Have you found something already?” my mother knowingly asked. I pointed out a dress, made it clear that I didn't 'like' it, but it did make me smile when I noticed it. Mum lifted the dress from the rail. “Skulls? Typical.” she grinned. “It's horrible.”

“It's cool.”

“I was thinking you might have seen something on that rail.” Mum said as she put the dress back.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you were looking at them when I was looking at the petticoats.” she informed me. “They are quite similar to the dresses boys used to wear.”

“So?” I muttered as I cast my eyes across the resplendant pastel spectrum arranged in yellows, pinks, purples, greens and blues.

“Well... this is the sort of dress girls wear these days.” she said, referring to the skull dress. “...some girls anyway... and girls a bit older than you.”

I was so transfixed by the frilly pastel coloured frocks that my mother's words barely registered. They all look so frilly and prissy that even the girls don't wear them... not any girls I've seen anyway. Mum commented on the colours and said they looked nice. “Some of the darker blue ones look OK I guess.” I said. “All the rest look like they've fallen out of a packet of Refreshers or Love Hearts.”

Mum chuckled at my description. “They do a bit don't they.” she said as she had a closer look at the blue end of the spectrum. She pulled out a few pastel blue frocks and asked my opinion. Too pale and too frilly was my reply. “I could imagine boys wearing one of these.” she said, picking a dark blue frock from the very end of the rail.

“That looks OK.” I said. “It'd be better without that bow.” I added.

“Ooh... I quite like that.” Mum said. “But it could be removed I suppose.” she said as she held it against me. I surprised myself when I didn't recoil and leap back to distance myself from it. She removed it from my chest and held it aloft. “Shall we?” she asked. I gulped and glanced nervously at the frock. “It could be our little secret.” she added. I gulped and nodded, biting my lip.

Many of the little stalls aren't manned, so payment is made on the ground floor. I browse the fantasy fiction and RPG stall whilst Mum waits to pay. I curse myself for not shaking my head instead of nodding. It was nothing more than an imaginary toss of the coin. I was on the verge of saying no but... right at the last nanosecond I thought... maybe I wont be asked again, so I nodded. “You were ages.” I said when Mum finally came and met me.

“Sorry... there wasn't much of a queue but they weren’t exactly serving anyone very quickly.” she said. I glanced nervously at the new bag in her hand. “Shall we go?” she asked. I nodded.

I knew I was being unusually quiet as we strolled past the windows on this busy shopping street. I sensed that my mother was waiting for me to say something, which made me all the more reluctant to break the silence. After a few minutes, Mum said. “I can't believe we just did that.” I couldn't either but I still couldn't think of anything to say. We glanced at each other. “I didn't come with the intention of buying you a dress today... it just sort of happened.” she said. Our eyes met again, briefly. “You don't mind do you?”

“I don't know.” I said. “Do I have to wear it?”

“Well it seems a bit silly if you don't.” she said. “But I won't tell anyone... and we can hide it in my room if you prefer.”

“I think that's a good idea.” I replied, almost grimacing. “Dunno what my friends would say if they saw it in my room.”

We strolled in silence for a little while longer until Mum said. “I suppose you'll be needing shoes too.”

“What kind of shoes?” I hesitantly asked.

“Well... deck shoes would look nice with it.” she replied. “Navy blue or white ones.” she added. “As would a nice pair of Mary Jane's.”

“Are they girl's shoes?” I asked, looking up at her. She smiled down on me and nodded. “Remember those T-bar sandals you used to wear for school when you were about six or seven?” she asked. I did. “Well they're a bit like those.” Mum informed me. “Although deck shoes would be cheaper.”

Whenever we visit the city, Mum likes to browse the discount stores as well as the high street stores. She's also partial to a bit of charity shopping, and there's loads. Since it's a Tuesday, the city isn't very busy, so as I'm looking for a pair of deck type shoes on the boy's shelves in TK Maxx, I'm not too embarrassed when Mum appears with a pair of dark blue girl's shoes for me to try. “I'm a four-and-a-half.” I state when I notice their size is five-and-a-half.

“I know but girl's shoes are sized a bit smaller than boys, so these should be about right” Mum says. I glance around before discreetly pushing my feet into them. I don't fasten the buckles but I do stand. “How do they feel?”

“I don't like the heel.”

“It's tiny.” Mum claimed. “Do they fit OK?”

“They're a bit tight?”

“A bit tight or very tight?”

“A bit.”

“On the toe & heel or on the sides?”

I flexed my foot and wiggled my toes as best I could. “A bit of both I guess.”

“Hmm.” Mum said as I sat and she crouched. The shoes were removed and Mum asked. “What do you think?”

“I think I'd prefer deck shoes.”

“Did you find any?” she asked. I shook my head. “Well these will do I suppose.”

“They were a bit tight.” I claimed as I pulled my trainers back on.

“I think they'll be OK.” Mum supposed. I browsed the toys and games whilst Mum queued for the tills.

The drive from the city back to our village takes about an hour-and-a-quarter and I spent every moment having second thoughts about saying yes to the dress. And the shoes! Although technically I didn't say yes to those... Mum just bought them for me. When we arrived home, Mum wasted no time unpacking my dress and asked me if I wanted to try it. “Well... not really but... I guess I'll have to.” I sheepishly reply.

"I got these too... whilst you were in that role playing shop.” she said.

“Tights!” I gulped.

“Well it was either these or white knee socks.” Mum said. “And given the time of year... I figured tights would be better.”

With help and encouragement from my mother, I was soon wearing the navy blue sailor dress, the white tights and my new shoes. The buckles were really fiddly so Mum fastened them for me, then she stood me up to have a look. “Does it feel as bad as you'd imagined?” she asked.

“It's OK I guess.” I timidly replied. “These tights feel weird though.”

“And the shoes, do they fit better now?” Mum asked. I wiggled my toes and flexed my feet and nodded. “I had a feeling they would.” After a short silence in which my mother smiled down on me and I looked down at myself, Mum asked if I wanted to keep it on for a while, “...or are you desperate to take it off.”

“Nah I'll keep it on for a bit... if that's OK.” I said.

“Of course it's OK.” Mum grinned. “Come on, let's watch TV.”

I spent the entire evening wearing the dress. And about four or five days later, I wore it again. I probably left it a fortnight before I wore it for a third time. Mum asked if I liked wearing it and I nodded. “I don't think I'd wear it outside but I like knocking about the house in it.” I told her.

“Something to wear on a rainy day?” Mum said. “When there's nowhere to go and no one to visit.”

“Yeah.” I bashfully replied. “You don't mind do you?” I cautiously asked.

“I wouldn't have bought it if I did.” Mum told me. “In fact I'm glad you like wearing it... it'd have been a bit of a waste if you only tried it the once.”

My nautical dress did become a bit of a regular 'rainy day' outfit. Mum bought me some new tights after I accidentally laddered my first pair and all of a sudden I had a choice between woolly white tights and navy blue 'school' tights. Mum had also found the book that accompanied the exhibition of Children's Victorian Clothing we'd visited, and there in its pages is a chapter all about the days when it was normal for boys to wear dresses. I learned that for boys my age, their dresses were only worn for special occasions rather than daily. Younger boys, up to the age of five or even seven years old apparently wore dresses all the time. I often found myself flicking through it, paying more attention to the pictures than the words, baffled by just how 'girlie' some of the boy's frocks are... but I guess in them days they probably didn't consider them 'girlie', just 'nice' or 'ornate'... possibly even 'pretty'.


No matter how many times I look at these two pages, I find it difficult to believe that there's only one girl in all of those photographs. At some point or another, I've imagined being each and every one of those boys.

One afternoon a month or so later, I sauntered home through an April shower with one thing on my mind... getting home, warming up under the shower and wearing my cosy frock & thick woolly tights for the rest of the evening. I was drenched by the time I arrived and predictably, Mum told me that I looked like a drowned rat. She placed a large bag on the kitchen table and said, “I bought you something.”

“What is it?” I asked as she slid the bag towards me.

“Something for a rainy day.” she smiled.

I bit my lip as I lifted the garment from the bag. “Oh mu-um.” I bashfully commented.

“Do you like it?” she asked. “I know it's a bit of a step up from your sailor dress but...” she paused as my jaw slowly dropped. “...and now spring's just around the corner... I thought it would nice to have a new one.” she added. I was kinda gob smacked. I really wasn't expecting it. “Well... what do think?” she asked again. “It's not too girlie is it?”

“Er... it'd be better without those bows.” I gulped.

“I like the one on the collar but I wasn't so sure about these either.” she said, taking hold of the skirt and thumbing one of the bows. “Thinking about it, I never did get round to taking the bow off your sailor dress.”

“I know.” I said, although I have got used to it being there.

“I got you a little something else too.” she said, dipping her hand deep into the bag and removing a small carrier bag. Again I asked what it was, expecting socks or tights. “Well.. you might not want them." she said as I took it from her. "But it doesn't seem right somehow... not having anything nice to wear underneath.”

I peered inside the bag before dipping my hand inside. I removed and unfolded a pair of knickers and a matching training bra; white, trimmed with frilly red lace and decorated with a cherry pattern. Beneath these, a pair of white ankle socks with half an inch of frilly lace trim around the ankles. “These look really girlie Mum.” I shyly stated.

“I know.” Mum said as a bashful smile swept her face. “You remember when I said that I sometimes wished you were a girl... so could buy you nice things?”

“Yeah.”

“Well... now I can.” she smiled. "If you'll let me?"

I smiled and nodded. Shopping with mother would never be the same again.



14 comments:

  1. A short one for a change. Hope you enjoyed it :)

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  2. Matching training Bra? Why? Even when boys wore dresses in Edwardian times there was no such item.

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  3. I'd love to be able to read the script on the pages of the book you show, with pictures of boys in dresses, but it's too small and indistinct. Could you enlarge it to make it readable?

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    1. Unfortunately it's just a mock-up... the book doesn't exist. :)

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  4. Your story has skilfully demonstrated how his mother has established a powerful influence over her impressionable son and will later show how she will surely further indulge her desire to dress him as the daughter she wished for. A training bra matching the panties strongly sends a message of femininity to him and now she should add girls nylon full slips to his outfits so that his petticoating message is reinforced.
    Surely she will now begin to impose the dress up periods on him whenever it suits her whims, irrespective of his preferences - perhaps to show her lady friends how demure and attractive he is or simply to satisfy her own preferences.

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  5. You write wonderful stories. I smile each time! Thank you.

    Kimmi (kim1girl@yahoo.com)

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  6. Another wonderful story - thank you. The son was a little more cooperative than a "typical" 11 year old boy would be but the level of curiosity is not entirely out of character. I especially like these more believable stories.

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  7. This is a story I missed, very enjoyable, also conceivably possible. I do like the fact that it was not forced on him. An 11 year old boy might just be curious as to what a dress would feel like to wear. Particularly if done in private. I would imagine that his mother might have bought him pelerine socks to go with his shoes as well as tights.

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  8. PJ thank you very much, for once more sharing a lovely story with your humble readers.
    Once again this was a story with a different theme from the more common ones with EP or other kind of force.
    I also enjoyed reading the comments, about how easy it was for her to get her son to wear his first dress. It shows that the readers are looking at your characters as real people and not just characters made to fit a certain situation or act. You can be proud of that, because it takes good writing skills to make fictional characters so lively.
    My thought about how easy he gave in is: His mother noticed the big interest he showed at the visit to the exhibition of vintage children’s clothing and since she so much had wanted to have a daughter, she nursed that interest while going through the large selection of dresses in matching styles to the exhibition and to the folder.
    I think she did very well not pushing him too hard by only having him dressed in the dress using his old underwear and then slowly adding more and more.

    Great work!

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  9. pj I loved this story n how the boy slowly became into a girl. i do hope you contunue this story. :) I would love to see what adventures lay her ahead.

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  10. Well it's obvious that the boy really loves his mother's choice of clothes for him. I think most boys would love this in a discrete way.Mothers just have to gently persuade them.

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  11. A very interesting story I was intrigued by the whole scenario of how his mother gradually interested him into petticoating & how easily it was for him to accept it so well done, still awaiting your next story as it must be over 5: months since your last one please donate another story soon. Keep up the magnificent work

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  12. What a lovely story, so simple, so basic, yet so unique. The implications are tremendous, capturing an eleven year old boy on the cusp of discovery, will he go this way or will he go that? He is a curious child, to be sure, barely questioning his mother's decisions or her intent. He is a lucky boy ... and she is certainly a lucky woman.

    In my overactive imagination I see his mother gently guiding him along, suggesting this, prodding him to do that. His wardrobe will slowly grow along with his "rainy day time" with his mum. lol Soon she will have him taking little drives about town and beyond, on picnics in the park, galleries and, yes, shopping. He's a reluctant participant, but he allows his mother to do as she wishes, which is both exciting and satisfies his boyish curiosity. The rose-decorated sundress will be followed with yellow gossamer tea dresses, childish playsuits and perhaps even a pink party frock, just for fun. He even begins helping around the house and finds that spending time baking and sewing with his mum is almost as much fun as playing video games and reading his fantasy novels. Almost. ;)

    Ah yes, life can be so much more interesting--and fun!--if young boys listen to their mothers! ♥

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