RANSVESTIA

pretty mysterious. And one never borrows nor uses another girl's underwear. That's maybe not so hard to understand but you re- member, my old lady had made such a fuss about it when she had bought me the outfit for the initiation, right? - so why didn't she raise a fuss when Mrs. Rosalia included some of Carmel's old lingerie in the assortment? (I asked her about that, and she answered me directly: "Shut up your face. You want to insult Mrs. Rosalia? Maybe you think there's something wrong with her daughter?" I don't know what that meant.) But no, mother took everything offered.

—

I don't know what use I was supposed to give some of the stuff — and that includes the lingerie I was given. See, it wasn't the or- dinary, every day kind, either. Maybe that's why it had been packed and put away. Would it be clearer to you if I described some of it? Well, there were several petticoats like the girls used to wear, you know, under real full skirts? One of these was something else it was actually three petticoats in one, made in tiers. The bottom one, the one worn next to the skin, was of pale blue taffeta (if you're won- dering about how well I describe these things, with the correct words, and so on, I will simply say, I very soon learned all the words. And the music, too.); the next layer was a series of net ruffles, sewed to each other, so that the third layer was held out; the third layer was white. The back, and all the way around to the front was solid fabric, a very thin taffeta. But in front, there was an insert, from the hem to the waist, of delicate white lace, like an apron (but no apron ever looked like that!). It was, my mother exclaimed, "The most beauti- ful thing she had ever seen!" I made one frightful mistake, just then. I thought so, too. (Look, just because I'm a boy doesn't mean I can't think something that is nice, is.) My mistake was simple: I opened my mouth and said so. I didn't know it then, but that remark nearly cooked the goose? Nearly? Heck, it darn well incinerated it.

Mother looked like she wanted to cry or something (I don't under- stand mothers, either, but then, who does?), while Mrs. Rosalia seemed to be affected in the head, and trotted over to my side and put her arm around my shoulders. Yecch. "It is that beautiful, isn't it?" she said. "I used to get a lump that big in me throat when Carmel wore it - and she only wore it twice. It was her petticoat for the bridesmaid's dress when Glorianna, the oldest, got herself married. Sure, and I'd bet you'd like to see the dress, too, wouldn't you now?"