RANSVESTIA

As I pushed open the door a couple with several children approached the doors on their way out. They looked at me. I looked at them and started ahead. Two women stood several feet away talking. The initial shock of the presence of so many people sent a quiver down my spine and the thought ran through my mind that soon I would hear a man shout, "Hey you, where do you think you're going dressed like that?" The moment was transitory and I soon felt reassured. At least 20 people had already seen me and accepted me for what I appeared to be a young woman, perhaps 25 or 30 years of age, attractively dressed for a shopping trip.

Before entering the shopping center I had thought it a good idea to follow the procedure of my earlier visit and go down the stairway to the store with the mirror for a thorough check of my appearance. The stairwell of which I speak is very large and one can see to the lower level easily. As I approached, I spotted a group of nearly 15 young girls perhaps 12 to 16 years old in the vicinity. Struck by a sudden premonition that this meant nothing but danger I changed my course and started for the main concourse.

My calculations concerning the number of people were correct. Hundreds of people jammed the stores and the concourse. There was bustling activity everywhere. Men, women, babies, children of sundry ages, teenage girls and teenage boys surrounded me on all sides. I sensed motion on all sides. I was not still myself. I started up one side of the concourse pausing briefly before window displays. As one does in a crowd, I traded glances with many people. I was conscious of several second glances. My hose were attracting a bit of attention. I had expected this but felt confident that the hose would be more of an asset that a liability. I reasoned that they would distract whatever attention or scrutiny might be given to some of my less feminine characteristics. My experience in the shopping center bore this reasoning out. Before I had left I heard several people comment about my hose and I caught more than one gentleman glancing at my legs as we passed. I was by no means unique for several other women had worn the textured hosiery that evening.

As I approached the north end of the concourse where the theatres were, the number of teenagers increased. On the whole they paid no attention to me but I was distinctly aware that several groups of girls scrutinized me very carefully. There is a certain age at which they are very clothes conscious and are particularly observant of what

-56-