Part 4
 
1902 Sunbeam Safety – 1970 Raleigh Chopper !

"Georgi, can I have a word, in private like,” Fraser enquired as he helped me load the old Sunbeam into the Jensen.

You remember Fraser, handlebar moustache, tweeds and rides a silly sixty five inch Ordinary, Penny Farthing to you lot. I am quite capable of getting my steed into the car but I'm hardly gonna turn down help, Mum played hell the other week when I got oil on my blouse.

"We're talking now,” I pointed out.
"Not here,” he looked around the make shift carpark, "Too many ears, you got to get straight off?”
"Not really,” I allowed, "Whats this about?”
"I'll tell all, look, can you meet me at the Kings Head down in the village?”
“'kay,” I allowed with a shrug, "I need to change out of this clobber, fifteen minutes?”
"I'll get us a table.”

Before you go jumping to conclusions, Fraser is in his seventies, happily married and I'm not that sort of girl.

I might've been doing this for a while now but I'm still not comfortable using the ladies to change but its either that or do the driving in my cycling garb. Not a problem I hear you say, well let me tell you, when you've tried getting in and out of an Interceptor in a corset and floor length skirt you can talk. So anyway, i've got into a routine, after our 'demonstrations' I lose the skirt and corset, well the rest of the costume as well for that matter, in favour of a more contemporary outfit to drive home. Which is where the ablutions come in, its not something you can do in public after all.

Many people have issues about getting changed in public places, the pool, changing rooms and so on but that's not exactly my issue. You only just remembered right, yeah, despite my name I'm not of the fairer sex even if everyone in the vintage bike world thinks I am. Yeah, thanks Uncle Frank.

Okay, I'll admit that I pass quite well, since this whole caper started I've got quite adept at the hair and makeup stuff and I'll even admit to enjoying the dressing up and riding stuff. But off the bike, well i'm a reluctant cross dresser, but with a name like Georgina and everyone around thinking I'm a girl, well dressing as me, the real me, not gonna happen. And so its a trip to the ladies.

The Jensen crunched into the pub car park, its not the easiest car to drive but a couple of years practice does wonders. I pulled into an empty spot and cut the engine, I checked myself in the interior mirror, wonder what all this cloak and dagger stuff is about? The Jensen rarely arrives anywhere unnoticed and I spotted Fraser waving from one of the picnic tables.

I clambered out as demurely as its possible, straightened my dress out, I say dress, its one of those shapeless, layered Scandinavian things, ideal for disguising my lack of shape and the flat shoes that go with avoid the whole heels thing. I slipped on my oversized sunnies, grabbed my bag and walked over to join Fraser.

"Got you a G&T,” he greeted.
"Er thanks, no Margery?” I asked sitting myself on the bench.
"Inside.”
"Shouldn't we go in?”
"In a bit, cheers.”
"Er cheers,” I agreed lifting my drink, taking a quick sip before going on, "So um, whats the big secret?”
"This stays between us for now lass.”
"Sure,” I agreed.
"You know David, over in Bolton?”
"Thin chap, side burns?”
"Thats the chap, anyhow he's been working on a project for a while now.”
"Isn't he the Chopper guy,” I interjected.
"Indeed he is lass, so he finished the bike, an original 1970 Mk1 or so he tells me and so proud he sends pictures and stuff to Nottingham.”

Nottingham of course being the home of Raleigh.

Fraser continued, "Well the guys there were made up, apparently their own collection doesn't include a purple five speed.”
"Thought they only came with a three speed Sturmey?”
"Apparently not.”
"So what's the big secret and how do I come in?”
"Well the Raleigh marketing bods got wind and came up with a proposal, they want to, what did he say now, oh yeah, they want to re imagine the original advertising.”
"Sounds interesting.”
"Well Dave thought the Club should be involved somehow, maybe provide riders, that sort of thing.”
"I'd have thought Raleigh would have their own models for that sort of stuff,” I opined.
"Maybe they do, maybe they don't, but anyway, Dave thought you might be interested.”
"Why me? I thought it was a bike for teenage boys.”
"Thats what I thought lass, but according to Dave it was supposed to be a non gender specific machine, easy to ride for anyone, apparently they did a whole series of ad's promoting it to young women.”
"Doesn't answer my question Fraser, why me, there are girls better qualified than me in the Club, the Pidcock girls for instance.”
"Too young Georgi, it needs a good looking twenty something to work.”
"Guess I qualify on one level then,” I stated.

"So you up for it girl?”
am I? There's like a million reasons why it's a bad idea but part of me was intrigued.
"I'm not sure.”
"The Club stands to get a few Bob out of it,” Fraser hinted.
"What about costumes and stuff?”
"Raleigh will sort all that out.”
"When do they need to know?”
"Tomorrow?”
Nothing like putting me on the spot. What could go wrong – okay so a lot, but seventies, that was all like flares and those kaftan things right? Easier to do than the Edwardian stuff I wear with the Sunbeam.
"Go on then,” I'll probably regret it but i've said it now.

"You did what?” Mum queried as I finished retelling the whole thing once I got back to Howden.
"I said yes,” I confirmed.
"That's what I thought you said, you do remember that you're my son?”
"Course I do, its only sitting on a bike in a pair of jeans.”
"You sure? Have you seen these advertisements?”
"No,” I admitted, "Fraser is going to get Dave to email the info over.”
"Huh.”
"What's that supposed to mean?”
"Well if this Dave is as computer savvy as the rest of them you might see it in a fortnight, do you even know when this is supposed to happen?”
"Fraser thought the end of the month.”
"You do remember we're going to Cornwall for your Gran's birthday?”
"Course,” I fibbed.”
I'm sure she wasn't buying that but all she said was 'hmm'.
"Let me get changed and we can look for the old ad's on the Net,” I suggested.
"They didn't have computers back then.”
"I know, but I bet someone's scanned them and put them up.”
"I'll make a pot of tea.”

Thirty minutes later I was staring at the computer monitor in disbelief.
"This can't be right.”
"Told you,” Mum mentioned with some glee in her voice, "You can always ring Fraser and say you've changed your mind.”
The search didn't come up with much but flares didn't feature in any of them, quite the opposite in fact, short shorts, knee boots, tank tops but not a full trouser or loose fit garment to be seen.
"I said i'd do it.”
"George, I'm your mother, you don't have to do everything you say you will, look what happened two years ago.”
"I know, “ I agreed with a sigh, "But I don't want to let everyone down, maybe there are some other adverts that aren't on here?”
"You're the expert Georgi, if you insist on doing this it'll involve more than just wearing a corset and a bit of makeup.”
"A wig for starters, these girls are all full on blondes.”
"Thats the least worry, you'll need some sort of breast forms, we'll have to hide George junior somehow, oh and shave your legs, at least you have good legs.”
"Doesn't seem so bad.”
"You could just say no.”
"It might not be that bad, there might be other ads they're talking about.”
"And I'm the Bishop of York,” Mum suggested.

Okay, maybe I should've got a bit more detail before saying yes but I said i'd do it, not sure about hiding junior in those shorts, apparently they're called Hot Pants, did women really wear them in public? I'm sure Raleigh can't mean these, they'd never get away with them in today's PC world, would they?

"I got you some stuff in Goole earlier,” Mum advised plonking my dinner on the table.
"Stuff?” I queried.
"So we can sort you out for this photo thing.”
"What sort of stuff?”
"You'll see, eat first, then we'll do the show and tell.”
Urgh! She does this all the time.

"What are these?” I queried, peering into the Boyes carrier bag mum had handed to me.
"If you're going to do this foolery Georgi, you don't want to make an exhibition of yourself.”
"I thought that was the idea,” I quipped.
"Don't be clever with me young lady.”
"I'm not...”
She interrupted my rebuttle, "You agreed to do this Georgina, you can't hide behind those skirts and corsets for this, are you doing it or not?”
"I said I would,” I replied with a sigh.
"So we need to be prepared.”
"I guess, so what is in here?”
"Underwear for a start, get yourself cleaned up and we'll see what we need to do.”
Well, at least she's supportive even if she thinks I'm daft.

"You're kidding!”
S gave me 'that' look, kidding she wasn't, dead serious she was. This stuff is a million miles from my Edwardian garb, whilst I wear knickers and so on with that, they're nothiong like these. For starters, the bra, this thing is a full on lift and seperate job, no hiding a ladies assets here and the pants, I'm sure they're too small, they're certainly crushing George Junior.
"You're going to have to do something, its pretty obvious what's in your knickers.”
"But no one's gonna see me in my underwear.”
"Ha, maybe, but those shorts won't hide much and what if they go for a minidress?”
"Minidress?”
"They don't exactly leave a lot to the imagination.”
Maybe I have bitten too much off.

After several attempts at hiding Junior I admitted defeat and fired up the computer. My mind was boggled, clearly 'cross dressing' is more prevalent than I ever thought. From jokey Hallowe'en to full on transgendered and not missing a stop between, there's stuff to create the desired level of illusion.

I guess my 'problem' is that I need to look 100% woman but its just a one off and some of this stuff isn't cheap. Okay, lets start at the bottom, what can I do on the cheap?

"Well?” I asked the following evening.
I'd followed the instructions carefully, Junior was tucked away and looking in the bathroom mirror, things looked reasonably girly.
"Hmm, not bad, whats it like moving around? Can you sit comfortably, I'm guessing you'll have to ride this bike?”
"Its comfortable enough sitting but I'm not sure about a saddle,” I admitted.
"Put the shorts on and try it then,” Mum suggested.
The shorts were a pair of 'Daisy Dukes', that was even the brand name, they looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“'kay,” I agreed.

"Ooo! That's not happening!” think putting your bits in a vice and slamming it shut.
"Hmm,” Mum had a strange look on her face, "Wait here.”

She returned with a pair of, I don't know quite what they are but they're sort of padded, bit like a disposable nappy?
"Really?”
"Two birds, a bit of padding and it'll give you a bit more lady shape.”
Talk about embarrasing, first finding out your mother uses these things and secondly that she wants you to wear a pair. Well I suppose its worth a go before I give up.

"So?”
"Well as long as I don't bounce up and down too much.”
"Hmm,” she allowed plucking at the er, brief bit of denim I was wearing, "Hopefully if its shorts they'll be fuller cut than these.”
"A bikini is fuller cut than these,” I opined.
"Don't talk rubbish Georgi, I think you'll do.”

It felt a bit more than strange, dressed more fully as a woman than i've ever been before getting into the Jensen. Tucked, padded and wearing contemporary clothing, I don't want to be a woman, but for today I need to be more woman than I usually am as Georgina on her 1902 Sunbeam. At least mum is coming as chaperone.

We're doing the photo shoot at the Granada Studios in Manchester, apparently they have a passable London set and stuff to make things look sort of period correct. Anyhow, its an easy journey from Howden, drop onto the sixty two and drive west, across Yorkshire and then drop into Manchester centre, couple of hours if we're lucky. I hit the starter button and the Interceptor burst into life, the familiar throaty roar taking my mind off how I'm dressed.

"Miss Stephens?” a youngish chap enquired as we climbed out of the Jensen, "James Dixon, Raleigh.”
"Er hi, its Georgi, this is my mum.”
"Nice to meet you both, cool car.”
"Sixty five FF, Chrysler V8,” i boasted.
"Hey maybe we could get it in the shoot,” James seemed quite taken with my wheels. "So, Dave says you ride vintage bikes as a hobby?”
He was leading us through what I guess you'd call the Back Lot.
"Er yes, not a Raleigh I'm afraid, its usually an old Sunbeam I inherited, not being funny but why aren't you using a proper model for this?”
"You kidding, they all think they're Gods gift, much better results with, I don't mean to offend, but amateurs and one who knows her way around a bike is a bonus. Here we go.”
He pushed a door open and ushered us inside.

To be honest, you see a lot of Choppers when we do our displays, people drag 'em out of their sheds and expect us to be in awe of the rusty clunker and wanting to part good cash for them. Dave's machine, you could see straight away, was something special, from the rare purple paint to the spotless chrome, it could've come off the production line this morning. This was less a renovation than a piece of art.

"Lovely isn't she,” another chap grinned, "Dave Thornton.”
I shook the offered hand, "Georgi.”
"Thought as much,” he smiled, "Fraser didn't say you were a model.”
"I'm not, forklift driver during the week.”
"Er shall we get started,” James suggested, "Georgi, if you go with Mary here, she'll sort out your wardrobe.”

"Hey George,” Sid called across what is laughingly called the canteen, "What dja reckon, bit of awright eh.”
My work colleague is a bit coarse at the best of times, it was hardly a surprise that he was ogling some girly mag. Except of course when curiosity got the better of me it wasn't.
"What I couldn't do wiv that,” he went on holding the Sun up so I could see the image.

My blood ran cold, there, in full technicolour was one of the new ads promoting the latest rendition of the Raleigh Chopper, the MkVI. Nothing wrong with that except the girl sat astride the vintage bike in the picture was one GE Stephens, aka Georgi, aka Georgina – in other words, its me. Of course, James had said they wanted to run an ad campaign for the new machine, that vintage was big just now and anything with 'history' was good.

I guess I hadn't really taken everything in that day in Manchester, what with a couple of costume changes, learning to rideRaleigh's classic lowrider and yes doing some extra shots with my Jensen as a prop. They even got Dave in on things, one of those long car coats, porn star moustache and sat in the Interceptor – yeah typical stone age advertising imagery. I won't say I enjoyed myself exactly, it wasn't terrible but I did feel somewhat exposed in those shorts!

"Er quite the looker,” I offered.
"Not arf, Billy Jenkins 'ad one,” Sid rambled on.
"Girl?”
"Chopper yer daft git.”
"Before my time.”

I really will have to think before agreeing to stuff, James was hinting they'd like me to do some more ad work for them. I should be flattered I suppose, how no one has worked out there's more to Georgi Stephens than meets the eye I'll never know. Lets just hope Gran doesn't get wind of this – damn, the car!

Maddy Bell © 29.1.2019