Transvestia

where the camp was located, to pick up some items for the staff. While the clerk filled the order from the slip I had given her, I drifted to the rear of the store where shoes were displayed on a long counter. A sign proclaimed unheard of bargains from 25¢ and up.... . Among the two-bitters was a pair of cheap canvas, white, hi-top boots size seven. I picked them up.

The fellow in the shoe department, who knew me well, asked if I were going in for femme-footwear. I blushingly denied this, explaining we could use them in our 'theatri- cals' which we had every Friday night. Due to the fiendish delight women take in humiliating the male of the species, I was often dolled up in cottons, voiles, satin, etc. Tho I protested loudly, to assert my masculinity, I really looked forward to this masquerade. It seemed quite natural

to me.

I now possesed my own shoes, but with them came a problem....where to hide them. To be caught with such an obviously feminine article in my possession would have meant ostracism from the human race (I felt). Being raised as the only male in a household of four females presents many problems. Among them, lack of privacy.. which meant that I couldn't take my boots back to the city with me in the fall. I had enjoyed the thrill, excite- ment and risks of many late-nite walks on crutches along the deserted road behind the camp. To my knowledge, I was never seen.... 'the luck of the Irish'.

Alas!

•

As it does every year, fall came and we had to leave camp. I had to dispose of the shoes, which I did in a brown-paper bag and dropped them down a hole of one of the outdoor toilets. I was later bothered by their loss and, belatedly, thought of various ways I might have hidden them for future use the following summer. While I berated myself for my stupidity we returned to the city. A new chapter was soon to start in my life. One which would affect my entire life, my work, my residence and give me an extensive wardrobe.... strictly transvestments.

It started on my way home from school one day. I almost bumped into a one-legged woman. She was standing on the corner waiting for a street car, a beautiful, hi- heeled, black kid boot graced her single foot. I was hyp-

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