furious. I had betrayed a trust. Not only that, but she certainly could never wear these clothes again, she said, not after a man had worn them, and I was ordered to take them all out to the dump and dispose of them. I did as I was told, and we have never discussed the subject from that day to this.
Still, I understood how she felt; to some extent I felt the same way myself. So much so that once I got out of the Army, I made a real effort to quit and didn't dress at all for over two years.
I thought about it a lot though, and eventually drifted back into the old intrigues. This time, however, everything was freshly purchased and nothing, but nothing, was borrowed - from anyone. I adopted this policy for two reasons: (1) I had promised myself never to steal anything else again, and (2) I vastly preferred having my own things anyway.
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I also began to give greater attention than before to my face and hair, with a correspondingly greater degree of success. By now fashion wigs had caught on, and after my earlier venture, I knew what to avoid. I first ordered two from a mail order house, choosing colors and styles from those they had pictured. They turned out to be excellent, but were not ironically, the first I got. Once the order is placed, my enthusiasm mounted to the point where I became inpatient. When it was clearly going to be some time before the first two arrived, I couldn't wait. Bracing myself for whatever might transpire, I marched into a beauty salon and bought one "for my mother," specifying the color and style "she" desired. Next to buying my first corselette, this was about the bravest thing I'd ever done. But they were very co-operative and had my wig ready that evening. I could barely wait to get it home, but restrained myself until I arrived. By some miracle the rest of the family was going out that night and I would be alone. That is happy news, and I smuggled my new hairpiece into my room and sat looking at it until they were safely out of sight. Then, remembering my bad experience of yore, this time I dressed and made up completely before trying the wig on. When it came time to slip my new gently curled tresses over my head, I was so excited I could hardly hold them. But somehow they went on, and I took my first look in the mirror, afraid of what I might see this time. I couldn't believe my eyes. The effect was
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