closed in, and I was very much alone. I stripped Eileen of her clothes, emptied her closets, figuring that if the someone who shared and cared with me could not understand, then who would. had better straighten up and fly right.

I

Maybe I didn't fly right, but I surely flew. Through camping and hunting and fishing, all old skills now sorely needed, through my work, my family, my associates, and all that it really accomp- lished was a great loss of weight. Aches, pains, and sleeplessness were commonplace, my life was definitely askew. I dated other ladies, and mostly they were lack-lustre evenings. The one date I needed was denied me...now it was up to me to reverse the denial.

Once I recognized this, my private hell ceased...the only tur- moil I suffered was that of frustration. It takes a bit of doing to assemble all the clothes and paraphanelia essential to my fem- inine happiness, but there are bargain sales, and want ads, and even those second hand shops dealing in clothes from the upper crust those who wouldn't be caught dead wearing the same garments more than twice. Equipped with my own tape measure to be certain they either fit, or could be quickly altered to fit, my 36-26-36 (padded) on a five feet, seven plus inches frame, I went from rack to rack in the stores miserly doling out my few bucks for beauty.

Before continuing, it seems essential that I describe how I feel wearing clothes already worn by others. All women are beauti- ful, particularly those whom I have never seen or known, and it is part of the enjoyment to conjure up the delight that the garments I buy must have brought to the original owner. Aborigines not given to cannibalism still ate the heart of brave enemies, feeling that in so doing they absorbed the bravery of the fallen. In sim- ilar fashion, when my body responds to the swinging of skirts, or to the uplift of a beautiful bodice, to the luxury of furs, or jewelry, corsetry, lingerie, or anything feminine that once graced a lady, my mind leaps ahead, and a large portion of her very self becomes an integral part of me. I feel prettier, less self-consc- ious, much more accepted...yea, I am delirious.

Knowing this about me, you can understand how ecstatic my present life has become: it began with a phone call from Elsie. We have known each other casually for a number of years; frequently she referred to me whenever she had a problem in the particular field in which I work. The particular evening to which I refer was fated: before we hung up she had accepted my invitation to

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