It’s not what I expected. Kinda nice though!

Being helpful can have consequences. Being pretty has consequences too.

An AP-500 story

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“I just want you to try this on – just for a moment – so I can see what it looks like from a distance.”

I felt really stupid. ‘Helping my Mum’ by wearing a dress. Okay, I did understand, there was a wedding coming up and she wanted to make sure the bridesmaid’s dresses looked good. She’d bought three of these dresses on-line; confident that she could fettle them up.

The wedding was for mum’s younger sister. My two sisters and my cousin were the bridesmaids. BUT. They were away on a school trip. And that left me as the most available target for checking the fit.

Me – John Roberts – having to wear a dress. There’s things I could have guessed I MIGHT do in my life. But wearing a dress was not included.

Mum was focussed on making the dress fit. Pinning here and there. Adjusting, measuring. And she kept on saying not ‘how pretty the dress is’ but ‘how pretty you look’.

It’s difficult to hear a phrase like that some twenty, thirty, fifty times over a weekend without beginning to wonder. Do I look pretty in this dress?

So I looked in the mirror – and I couldn’t see any evidence that I was a boy. Mum had fiddled with my hair, which was as long as my sister Susie’s. I looked pretty much like any of the other girls at school dressed all fancy for their end-of-term party. I fluffed my hair – just once – but mum noticed. I saw her smile.

I didn’t notice then but for the next few fittings, mum made sure that the dresses had smooth linings, sleek and sheer and wonderful. On the other hand, she also made sure that I was putting on the harshest, scratchiest of my wardrobe - home-made jerseys and heavy denim jeans, for instance.

And it did make a difference. Was I silly to say so. Did it give Mum the opportunity to press me, as much as mothers ever do (ha), into just that little step further?

Almost without realizing it, while mum made more alterations, she had me wearing a housecoat. Now I know it’s an old-fashioned description of a dress with pockets! But it did feel nicer than those jeans and jerseys.

‘Accidentally’ she had me sitting by her vanity-table while she fixed something. Seeing all those pots and potions – what does an inquisitive boy do. I inquisited. Mum offered to show me what some of the things could do. And, are you amazed, I looked even more girly. And I liked it.

“What do you think of that, then?

It feels weird – do you put this stuff on your face every day?”

“Not every day, no. But often. It makes me feel extra pretty. Look what a different lipstick does for me.” And she showed me. Then she put lipstick on me!

“What do you think of that.”

I licked my lips. The slippery slidy feeling was …… I don’t have the words. I smiled.

Another 500-word story that people can amend, adapt, expand provided they attribute properly.