RANSVESTIA

in there earlier, were totally mildewed and fell to shreds when I tried to pick them up. Now all I had were the skirts, dresses and blouses plus the soft nylon lingerie for clothing. In order to return to being a man in dress, at least, I'd have to go out and get some more clothing. Yet I couldn't quite understand how the clothes had gone bad so soon. Of course I knew nothing of some water that had been added to the clothing to "help" the decay. But at that time I know only that I now had but one wardrobe-a beautiful one that I loved—but only one ... nonetheless. Thus without ceremony or further comment the trunk got set out for the garbagemen to collect. In my room Erica smiled and said, "It's too bad about the clothes, Peggy, but again, it would have only shown that the clothes would have shown your figure through anyway; you're quite feminine and I love you." What could I say?

What happened at the beauty parlor was also strange. I did not know it at the time but I was expected in more ways than one. When Mrs. Mallet made the appointments, she also made a number of specifications. Thus I went in to get a curl, to get my hair done in an acceptable hairdo that was less masculine than the straightish mop I had. But came out not with my darkish blond hair with a soft wave. No, I came out with a tight curl that was a brilliant light auburn that was almost red. Yes, the hairdressers had had their instructions and regardless of what I said, the plan of action down to the tone of the permanent hair color to the tightness of the curl. But that was not all.

I had also had an appointment with the electrologist. Now, I had never plucked a hair on my head. They worked over my side burns giving them a good shape when they removed the moustache and thinned what was left of my beard. I should have been suspicious when two of them worked on me at the same time. They had some sort of anesthetic to kill the pain. In fact, they had some thing that put me out when they did my moustache. They put it under my nose while still working on my side burns-on the pretext that they would work there next. But when they got to it, I didn't know. I do know that when I awoke, my face hurt and they were still working on my beard. I felt that I had just drifted off but didn't understand how I could have, considering the pain in the process. Nevertheless, they worked on me. When they were finally finished, they swabbed my face from my chin to my forehead. Then they put on full makeup to cover the redness. They even gave me some of the medicated makeup for the next several days. When Erica saw me, she was all oohs and ahs, gushing