TRUE STORY

A DREAM COME TRUE

Helen CA

Dressed in my regular men's suit, striped shirt and tie, I walked down the street. Ahead of me on the corner stood a ladies' dress shop with a banner in front - DRESS SALE. Heart pounding, I opened the front door and walked in.

Instantly I was surrounded by femininity. Racks of pretty blouses, skirts and dresses lined the walls. Bouffant petticoats hung on dis- play, all ruffles and bright colors. A glass counter displayed wigs, high-heeled shoes, lingerie. Beautiful nightgowns and peignoir sets caught the roving eye, and their silky, sheer fabric invited examina- tion and stroking.

Other men stood amongst the feminine merchandise or browsed through the small magazine shelf. I hesitated for a moment as I took in the scene, and then I approached a rack of bright dresses. Slowly my hands reached over and began to search through hangers for a style that I liked. Finally I selected one, gauze, with full sleeves and a long skirt decorated with a ruffle on the front panel which curved down and up in the shape of an apron.

I pulled it out and inspected the girlish details, the fullness of the skirt, the ruffles at the wrists and the flounce at the hem. Then, flip- ping the hanger over, I held it up to my neck and shoulders, so that it flowed down my suit coat and trousers to the tops of my heavy black shoes It might just possibly fit me, I thought, as I checked the size of the shoulders, the waist, the length of the sleeves.

For a moment, the wonder of it caught in my throat. Me, obviously a man, examining pretty clothes, holding up panties with the expecta- tion of buying and wearing them, wondering if a dress would fit my

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