12TV FICTION CLASSICS "SANDY THOMAS

back, I watched as she clipped onto my lobes a pair of earrings, each shaped like a golden leaf. A matching gold necklace was placed around my neck and the clasp secured at the back. Standing on her tip-toes, mother carefully slid a pair of rhinestone encrusted haircombs on each side of my coiffure. Finally, she pulled me down to sit at her vanity, while she enthusiastically coated the clear nail polish on my fingers with a bright red to match my dress.

"Of course, we can't stop here," she said, as she applied the matching red lipstick to my lips. Slipping the high-heeled pumps on my stockinged feet, mother pulled me up to stand before her full-length mirror. I couldn't believe the girlish image it reflected. From my curls to my heels, I was dressed like a girl. Mother was ecstatic!

"Oh, I have to get some pictures of you," she said as she headed to get the camera. As I stood and turned to gawk at my image, I vaguely heard the shutter clicking repeatedly, accompanied by a dazzling flash. I was told to strike some feminine poses, which I reluctantly did. I was feeling some very strange emotions right then. I was shocked at how feminine I looked; I knew that I should be aghast and quickly strip out of these clothes, but I couldn't. There was something intrinsically fascinating about being dressed like this. Maybe it was the way the skirt playfully swung around my legs as I walked, or just seeing a different person in the mirror.

I didn't get out of those clothes until later that day-much later, at bedtime. The funny thing was, I never asked mother to let me change. I just followed her directions and instructions. After helping her with a few minor chores around the house, I was given a lesson in makeup, then some basic poise and deportment tips. At bedtime, I didn't even complain when I was handed a full-length cotton nightgown to put on.

And so the weeks passed as summer neared an end. Mother took many measurements of me as my diet and exercise program took its effect. I had trimmed down 10 lbs. and now stood 5'4" and weighed only 120 lbs. I was always considered a "shrimp", but now, even I thought I was too thin. My hair was really long, too. It was down to my shoulders plus some. I had the "fun experience" of learning how to set it on rollers, and even got an 'opportunity' to actually practice doing it once or twice. I probably wore panties and skirts 25% of the time in the last month or so. Mother always came up with a 'good reason', like "practice for your stage roles", "I need to hem this up", "I can't tell how this dress will look with those shoes, be a darling and slip it on so I can see from the observer's point of view", and so on.

Of course, she told me you never put on a skirt or dress without all the correct underwear. She said, "Lingerie compliments the way a dress fits." I suppose you get the idea, right? She also did a lot of

ACTING LIKE A GIRL -13

shopping, bringing home bags and boxes that she effectively stashed somewhere before I could ask her what she had bought.

In the last week of August, we packed the car for my trip to Rosemount. I had packed a suitcase with all my favorite jeans and T-shirts. I remembered the need for a suit so I mentioned to mother. "Oh, yes, I'll pack it for you dear," she replied somewhat hesitantly. I was shocked when we were packing the trunk and found that besides my one suitcase, mother brought out two more new, large suitcases that I hadn't seen before.

I asked, "What are those?"

"Oh, just some additional items that I've bought. You are going to live there, Ken. You don't think that you have enough to wear in that one little suitcase, do you?"

"Hmmm I guess not." And so, we left for Rosemount. My excitement was mixed with a certain apprehension. I hoped to meet that dream girl, but all those other worries about undies and "tresses" rules were certainly not forgotten.

Chapter 3 Moving In at Rosemount.

The three hour drive was uneventful. The warm summer breezes from the open car window kept playing havoc with my long hair. When we stopped for a rest, mother helpfully tied it back into a short ponytail. My first glimpse of Rosemount College property was the grand entrance gate. We had to stop and announce ourselves into an intercom. Someone checked a list or something before the tall gates automatically swung open. It seemed like a half mile drive past the gates through a pretty forest before the main buildings of Rosemount came into view.

As we pulled up to the main doors of the building marked Boys' Dormitory, a couple of older boys wearing the school uniform (pants and blazer) came up to our car, opening the door to help my mother out.

"Welcome to Rosemount, ma'am. My name is Peter and this is Terry. We're here to help you unload and find your way around."

"Well, thank you, boys. My name is Christine Fleming, and this is my son Ken. He's in the drama major program.'

"Hi, Ken. Very pleased to meet you."

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"Hello," I replied, a little relieved at the obvious friendliness (and normality) of these first two students I met. .here you are,

Terry scanned a list of names and finally said, "Ah

Ken. I see you are joining our 'Tress' program. That's great. I'm in the drama program as well. We'll probably be working together. The 'tresses' are over in E Wing. You're lucky, that's the nicest wing of the Boys' Dorm."

Lifting my bags out of the trunk for us, they asked us to follow them. We walked through several hallways in this regal Victorian looking