Halloween was only a few days away and I still didn't have a costume. I'd looked, hard. The guy's costumes tended to be way to big for me in both height and General size. They all would have fallen off my thin frame and weren't really what I wanted anyway.

The girl's costumes were just as bad. The ones I like emphasized contours and attributes I didn't have but wished I did. No amount of padding, no matter how good it was, would make me comfortable in one of those. I know, I'm impossible to please, but I have an idea of what I want my body to be and right now it isn't even close. I just didn't want to be a fake with things like that.

Yeah, I know. Unrealistic and impossible. But a guy who wishes he was a real girl can dream. Right?

Maybe someday.

I was just walking down the street, worrying about what kind of costume I would be comfortable with while avoiding negative reactions from the jocks or anyone else. Okay, I was a wimp who didn't want any negative thoughts about me. I hate that, but it's the way I am. I hate confrontations and will do almost anything to avoid them.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. I need a backbone. I agree. I just haven't managed to find it yet.

I want to, I really want to do that. But nothing I've seen or experienced has given me a real reason or need to do that.

I really hate myself. Not to the point of being suicidal, but you know what I mean.

Then I saw it.

The window displayed costumes from earlier years and was actually quite riveting given that the main display was of a 1950's vintage housewife.

The sign above the door simply said, 'Costumes'. A smaller sign below that added. 'Authentic vintage clothing for rent or sale.'

I couldn't resist. So I entered a store I had never seen before just to see what was in there.

I wandered around a bit once inside just to see what was there. It was impressive.

There were costumes ranging from the present all the way back to pre-revolutionary times. It was amazing. The detail on the costumes was hard to believe in the day and age of getting things done fast.

I should add here that I had always been interested in historical clothing. Especially women's.

I was fingering, feeling, the sensations of a satin 1950's evening dress when a voice interrupted me.

“Can I help you?”

“I'm just looking.” I answered while pulling my hand off the dress I'd been admiring.

“That's alright.” The woman, short, and slimly built smiled at me. She shrugged to get her thick black hair out of her face, and I was instantly jealous though I tried hard not to show that. “I have some beautiful clothes here. I really love seeing people enjoy them. My name is Celeste, by the way.”

“These are really good reproductions.” I said in admiration as I examined a few more things.

“Oh, they aren't reproductions.” She countered. “They are original, from the time they came from.”

“That can't be true.” I countered. “Why would you offer museum pieces for rent or sale?”

“I only serve a select clientá¨le.” Celeste laughed. “Only people who really appreciate my wares, or truly need then get in here.”

“Am I one of those?” I asked feeling very uncomfortable with that idea.

“You wouldn't have found my store if you were not.” She smiled at me. “Come, let me show you proof of what I say about my wares being genuine from the period they should be in.”

I followed her deeper into the shop until we were in a section that was before sewing machines. She took a gown off the rack and handed it to me. “Feel that, the seams, no machine did that stitching, it was hand sewn.”

She was right. I looked, felt, and ran my hands over the seams just to make sure.

“No machine could do so fine a stitch.” Celeste told me.

I couldn't argue with that. I'd always paid attention to women's fashions, and the stitches I was looking at and feeling had the sense of being done by hand and I even got a sense of the person who had done it.

“Alright.” I nodded with more than a little awe since everything I'd seen in her shop appeared brand new. “I believe you.”

“Good.” Celeste favored me with a warm smile. “So what are you looking for? I noticed you staring at things from the fifties, is that what you are interested in? I have both women's and men's fashions available if you like.”

“No!” I almost shouted. “I was just just looking at a very good costume.”

“Then where do your interests lie?” She asked.

I hesitated to answer. Every since I had seen Gone with the Wind, and some other period pieces in that time frame, I had been fascinated with the elaborate gowns and hoop skirts.

“You will answer me, you know.” She smirked. “That is the way my shop works. I always please my customers.”

“1860's, civil war era.” I was surprised that I admitted that, but went on. “The gowns, the beautiful gowns, and all that.”

“Ahh, now we get to the truth of things.” Celeste smiled at me. “What else?”

“The hoop skirts, the flounces, the lace and other decorations.” I admitted.

“You have no desire to be a dashing soldier?” She asked and it seemed like she was teasing.

“No.” I shook my head and was ashamed of the admittance. “I wanted to be one of the southern ladies.”

“Then come with me dear.” She smiled and took my hand while pulling me deeper into the racks of clothing. “The corset will hurt, I warn you, but I can give you what you wish for.”

“For one night”

“Oh yes, dear.” She gave me an unsettling smile as she nodded. “Trust me, you will never forget this costume.”

“Okay.”

“Even if you may regret what comes?”

“It doesn't matter at this point.” I answered. “I already regret my whole life.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” I answered without hesitation. “For once in my life I want to wear things that I've craved all my life, and have others see me. So yes.”

“You will accept the consequences and do your best to deal with them if this is done?”

“Yes.” I answered, wondering just what kind of costume shop I'd wandered into.

“Well then,” she smiled at me and gestured for me to go further into the racks. “I will give you what you want. Come and we will find a gown that appeals to you.”

It was surreal. Celeste led me to a part of her curiously large shop that held garments from the 1860's. I ignored the men's clothing and immediately went to the dresses and gowns.

“See anything you like?” She asked as I looked, fingered and held different dresses up against me.

“I like them all.” I admitted. “They are so beautiful.”

“Yes they are.” She nodded. “Women in those days had to be feminine and beautiful and their clothing reflected that. So have you found one you really like?”

“This one.” I told her, holding out a confection of violet silk, very white lace and in a size that would never fit me. “But I won't be able to wear it.”“You never know,” Celeste gave me a smile, “if you don't try it.”

I looked at the dress, which was way to slender and short for me but decided that things were so weird, I'd try it. “Okay.”

“Good, get out of your clothes and we'll see what we can do here.”

What did I have to lose? I knew the delicate thing wouldn't fit, but it didn't hurt to try. Right?

So I got rid of my clothes and waited to see what Celeste wanted to do.

“Here, put these on.” She handed me a white silky thing that looked as if it could take flight in the wind if it was tied to a stick and held out.

“What are they?”

What we would call panties today but they were drawers back then. Pull them on, tie the laces to keep them up, and you'll be on your way to being a decent woman.”

The things were huge, even if they were meant for a smaller person, but I pulled them up and tied the laces at my waist to keep them there.

The next half hour or so was something I'd never even imagined even though I had wanted to wear dresses from the Civil War period. Corsets really suck, and hurt if you aren't used to them. Trust me, don't try that at home unless you really like pain.

The rest was easy, the stockings, corset cover, hoops and petticoats that went over them. The gown did fit and it was exquisite. Yards of violet silk, lace, and gathered sleeves. It never occurred to me to wonder just why the beautiful thing fit me.

“Time to go home, Delia.” Celeste hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Be happy in what you find.”

“What?” I started to ask when everything went very, very white.