one would you like?"

Ian examined the labels on the boxes. The particular cupboard they'd opened covered some years after World War Two. The words 'New Look' caught his eye. He examined the label more closely. "Lunch with Lady Devenish at the christen- ing of her first grandchild. 8th May, 1947. ('The New Look")"

"Let's have this one." Margaret reached into the cupboard and brought out a han- Carefully she removed ger

the dustsheet to reveal a dress and jacket in a soft, honey- coloured raw silk, and held it up for his inspection.

"The New Look was a revolt against the austerity of wartime uniform & workclothes. As you can see the skirt was - half way down to very long the ankl and the draping was I re- very soft and feminine. member the marvellous feeling of pleasure and excitement this new fashion gave us after the long, long years of functional clothes."

"Were you with Great- Aunt Millie then wore this?"

when she

"Yes just. I'd been with her about six months.

She

looked so lovely in it fresh and feminine and so

gant."

Suddenly

she

very ele-

stretched

forward and held the dress

against Ian's shoulders.

"You - you look so like her would you would you like to try it on - it would be marvellous it would be seeing her all over

again?"

"I - I"

There is still something to tell about Ian. Without any close contact with women without sister or cousin, without his mother since he was fifteen, desperately shy about girls he nevertheless found he had a great interest in women's clothes, and a de- sire which he could not ack-

nowledge even to himself to dress in them. Far too shy to buy anything personally, and without any opportunity for clandestine experiment at home, he still couldn't bring him- self to buy clothes even by mail order lest the fact should somehow become known. And anyway, he didn't understand women's sizes and his native caution prevented him from ordering something which might be so large as to swamp him, so small that he couldn't get into it. So he suffered in sil- ence, gazing longingly at news- paper and magazine advertising and giving giving furtive sidelong glances at the windows of dress shops as he passed while lacking the self confidence to stop and gaze. And so, while Margaret's suggestion came as a shock it also brought of surge excitement. Suddenly above all else - he wanted to say 'yes', but the word was SO hard to bring out.

זיי

shouldn't do that, should I?” "Why not? They're your clothes all of them - and there's nobody in the world with a better right to put them on than you.'

"Yes, but " he paused, then went on"-surely they wouldn't fit, would they?"

"Oh, yes - with a little padding here and there they'll fit fine! Would you like to try?”

Without warning the flood- gates opened and the urgent throbbing desire to dress in these beautiful clothes swept through. heck with everything "Yes please oh yes please!"

Fifteen minutes later Ian was in his own room, stripped to his underpants, struggling to get a girdle over the towel Margaret had wrapped round his hips. The smoothly gleaming white satin and elastic were proving much more powerful and unyielding than he could have believed possible, and it was only Margaret's skill, as

experienced lady's maid, which eventually triumphed. With the hooks done up and the zipper closed, his waist was under considerable pressure but his delight in finally achieving what he had always longed for made him ignore the discomfort.

The bra, which she hooked round his slim chest, matched the girdle and, when she had filled it with cotton wool pad- ding, made his so womanlike that he half disbelieved the re- flection he saw in the mirror. Stockings, which she put on for him he was frightened he might tear them if he did it himself french panties enhanced the image and all signs of Ian were fast disappearing under layers of femininity. Then, as Mar- garet smoothed down the slip over his hips, he begain to sense that something was happening to him.

"Margaret I -"

"Yes, Miss Millie?" "I feel -"

That wasn't Margaret's voice it sounded too young. He turned to look at her - but only a youthful maid in cap and apron stood there, quiet and deferential, holding a pale blue garment of some sort ready in her arms. Anxiously he looked around him. The bedroom his bedroom had changed, become old fashioned but very feminine with pretty curtains and bedspread, cushions and frilly lampshades. There was a vase of flowers on the dressing table. The wardrobe doors stood open revealing a rainbow-hued row of dresses, coats, furs. A jewel box on a side table flashed its contents in a ray of sunshine and a drawer, half open, overflowed with dia- phanous undies. And what had the girl said? "Yes, Miss Millie." Miss Millie? Anxiously his eyes found the mirror.

Reflected there was exceptionally beautiful middle aged woman in her underware. Now totally confused, Ian could only stare for some seconds