RANSVESTIA
First, I began to test him. He likes ruffles, so I bought him a couple of dress-formal shirts, the kind with ruffles and lace at the wrist and all down the front. He laughed when he saw them, but he wore them, and not just on occasional dress-up occasions; he would wear them open-necked as sport shirts. Of course, under them, he wore silk or nylon underpants or undershirts. Soon, he no longer used his ordinary cotton underwear.
Once, while driving through San Francisco, we passed a clothing shop which advertised "ROMANTIC SHIRTS." He didn't go in; he never did go in to see what they offered, but the phrase caught his attention. "What is a romantic shirt?” he asked with a quizzical twist of his mouth. I giggled, because I had a sudden flash of inspiration, but I let him continue speaking his thoughts. "I know what a romantic shirt would be like for me."
He persued the subject, and things developed so nicely that I almost hugged myself. "What would a romantic shirt look like in your mind?" I asked.
"Well ." His hair grew down to his collar in those days, a nice helmet for his small head, and as he thought, he ran his fingers through it. "Well, I'm thinking back to swashbuckling times when the swords- men had lace ruffles at their wrists, full, flowing sleeves, and large lacy collars."
Perfect! I felt delighted, and when his birthday came, I presented him with his version of a romantic shirt one with full flowing sleeves which had lace ruffles at the wrists, and a lovely collar with wide points lovingly bedecked with lace. He blushed, but his eyes lit up, and he put it on right there.
That is when he discovered my "mistake." Men's shirts button so that it overlaps to the right; feminine blouses button so that they over- lap to the left, and his shirt fastened to the left. He wore a blouse, and he didn't seem to mind; it became his favorite shirt-blouse.
About this time, he bought a Nehru jacket to wear. It was fashion- able, but I don't think that he really liked it because it was so heavy and close-fitting, like armour. But then, one day I leafed through one of the mail-order catalogs and noticed a sweet little blouse. It had little puff sleeves trimmed in lace, a lace-bedecked front panel, but-
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