A boy finds a wardrobe full of clothes, and his life is changed forever
Bill found them in an old wardrobe in an unused room. They were all made from either cotton, wool or even gingham, and yellow-,red-, or light blue-and-white chequered. He took a yellow-and white one out, walked over to a mirror, and held it in front of him. It ended just below his knees, had short poufy sleeves, and frills around the collar and hem. He started slowly moving from side to side, in his mind dancing slowly with a beautiful girl, gently pressing their bodies together.
Suddenly a voice behind him said: "You'll get much more out of the experience, if you add some tulle petticoats." He quickly turned around, and met the eyes of his aunt Florence (Flo, to her friends and family) who silently had come up after him.
"You did want to know how it felt, didn't you?" There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
"I--I--I", he stuttered, cleared his throat and began again, "No, I was only dancing with an imaginary girl."
"U-hum?" Flo hummed, not at all convinced. She grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look at her. "Look," she softly said, "I've known you since you were a hand's breath. I've seen how you look at the girls, and almost slobber when they swirled their skirts around, and somehow I don't think it's what's underneath that gets you going. Am I right?"
He looked at her, and tears started to well up in his eyes.
"No, ma'm; I mean yes, ma'm," he whispered. "It's just that in summer, girls look so cool in their dresses and skirts, while us boys has to wear trousers or, at best, shorts, and sometimes almost die from heat exhaustion!" As he talked, Bill's lower lip started to tremble, as if he was a little boy.
Flo hummed again, and then said: "Well, as you are going to stay here for the summer; would you like to wear skirts or dresses around the house? It would be our secret, and I swear I won't tell anyone."
"But what if someone saw me from the street?"
"It's a one-way street isn't it; and therefore not much traffic. I don't think anyone will see you; and even if anyone did, they'd probably think you were a girl with short hair."
Bill wiped the tears away and said, still whispering:
"I'd like that very much. What do I have to do?"
"We are going on a shopping expedition, because if you want to enjoy the full experience you'll also have to wear girl's underwear, not just a dress. And for the same reason, we'll have to get you some pantyhose."
He looked up, and the tears started welling up again.
"Aunt Flo, before we do anything, you will have to tell me something; why are you doing this for me? I'm only going to be here for a couple of weeks, and you've already decided to invest a lot of money in clothes I can only wear if I don't go anywhere, and show off!"
Florence only snorted, and cryptically said: "That may change, my young man; that may change. Now; you find out what size underwear you have and your shoe size, so we can begin spending some money."
They started their expedition by going to a large department store, where there would less chance of anyone wanting to know who the clothes was for.
They went to the kids' clothes department and started a thorough search in the girls' section, rejecting most, ending up buying several pairs of panties; most of them in cotton but some in velvet, in a variety of colours. The only thing they had in common was they were plain. They also bought nylon pantyhose, mostly light beige, but also darker shades, and other colours.
After that, it was time for shoes. When the clerk wanted to show them some boys' shoes, Florence told her they were for a girl, but that she had about the same size shoes "as this young man".
A couple of Mary Janes with inch-high heels and as many slippers later, Florence directed Bill towards the barbershop.
"But I don't want to get my hair cut!" he protested, being very protective of his shoulder-length hair, as always. "I like it, just the way it is!"
"And it is just fine," aunt Flo agreed, "but if you want to pass for a girl, you'll have to get it more---girly, I suppose. Otherwise you'd look like what you really are; a boy in a dress." She gave the hair-dresser instructions on how she wanted his hair to look, and then she disappeared, only to come back in time to pay.
"As a finale you and I are going to a manicurist, to get our nails done." she told him. "n the way home, I'll let you choose clips and ribbons to put in your hair."
I still think you might be wasting you money, aunty!"
"Mm, maybe so; but it'll be money well wasted, if that is the case."
When they came back home, Florence picked out a pair of white cotton panties and pantyhose, and from the wardrobe a blue, knee-length, long-sleeved velvet dress which she had to help him put on, as the buttons were small and located in the back. She grabbed his shoulders and sobbed:
"Oh, why weren't you born a girl? You look simply stunning in that dress; it's like it's made for you and not your mother who it originally belonged to!"
Bill turned towards the mirror. "I like it, too." he said. "The sleeves are a bit tight, but I guess they're made that way." He took a deep breath and added: "If you want to, I could continue dressing like a girl as long as I'm here?"
"You could what?" Florence was surprised. "But you're a boy. Don't you think you'd miss wearing boy-clothes?"
"Mm, probably; but I too liked what I saw when I saw myself in the mirror, so please; let me keep wearing them until it's time for me to go home? Besides, that way you'll get value for the money you've spent!"
His aunt said nothing, just shook her head, and left.
Later that day, Bill and Florence emptied the wardrobe and drawers in his room of all his boy-things and put them neatly in bags, and replaced them with the things they had just bought. Florence even found some long-sleeved and high-necked cotton nightgowns. When Bill saw them he said they looked like they came from the Victorian age.
"Mm," Florence agreed, "you're actually not that far off. My parents bought them in a thrift shop more than half a century ago. They're yours if you want them."
He thanked his aunt, and put them in a drawer.
With that done, they turned their attention to his name.
"What should I call you? I can't very well keep calling you Bill; not when you're supposed to be a girl!" Florence said.
"No, that would be a bit odd, wouldn't it?" Bill agreed. "As you know, I'm also called 'Anders', so why don't you start calling me 'Andrea'?"
"I like that name; 'Andrea' it is!" Florence went to the door, where she turned around. "You're strange, even for a teenager; but I guess you know that already. I mean that in a nice way!"
"Yes aunt," Andrea solemnly replied, "I know."