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toned up the back, but the perfect touch was the collar, a stand-up collar which ended in a ruff. Just the thing for his Nehru jacket, I de- cided. He had been wondering what to wear with it as his dress shirts didn't show, and his romantic shirt-blouse was completely hidden except for the lace cuffs. Sometimes he wore it with only a nylon T- shirt underneath, but I knew that this cunning blouse would have a romantic touch that he would like.

I guessed at a size which would fit him; not a wild guess because I had his measurements, ordered, and in a week or so, I presented it to him.

At first, after he had opened the box, he was non-plused; then his smooth skin flushed as he unfolded it and held it up for inspection. I could see from his smile that he was tickled with it, and at the same time, he immediately caught the idea of the ruff going with his Nehru jacket.

He put it on then and there, and I helped him fit his unaccustomed masculine hands into the dainty puffed sleeves and buttoned it up the back. He looked charming and very sweet as he admired himself in front of the mirror; I could see that with a little help, a little padding, and training, he would make an attractive woman.

He got his Nehru jacket, and I hated to see his girlish blouse hid- den from sight, but the perky ruff added a soft touch of elegance to the masculine jacket, and he admired the effect in a mirror. "Wow," he said as he pivoted back and forth to admire it from all angles. "I won't be able to take the jacket off when we go out, but it does look nice."

Unseen by him, I turned the thermostat of our apartment up, and later the jacket got warm, and in the privacy of our living room, he took it off, but kept the blouse on until we left to go out for dinner. He looked adorable, soft and sweet. While we were eating, people did notice his elegant appearance, and I enjoyed our meal all the more because of his self-consciousness; he left his jacket on and buttoned all evening. We shared a secret.

While he happily wore his blouse, I had another idea, and in a week, I sewed it and had it made. His masculine underwear looked so plain and dowdy under his translucent blouse — I made him a camisole.