Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts

Friday, January 3, 2020

My Morning, January 3, 2030

My alarm clock sounds off at 5:45 AM.

I slowly get out of bed and remove my nightie as I walk to the bathroom.

I slip on my shower cap and shave in the shower with a gel shaving cream and a five blade razor to get a close shave. Then I lather up my body with Dove Body Wash, rinse and step out of the shower to dry off. I touch up my face with the razor to remove any strays I missed, then I apply eye cream around my eyes and a moisturizer on my face and neck.

While I wait for my skin to absorb the moisturizer, I deodorize, then slip into my underwear (waist cincher, girdle, and long line bra).

Next I quickly do my makeup: a dab of concealer under my eyes, foundation, eyebrow pencil, eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara, blush, lip liner, lipstick, lip gloss, etc. I am done in 15 minutes without any mistakes.

I remove my curlers and shake out my short blond hairdo. It does not need much work; just some finger combing and it looks great.

I put on a pair of expresso-colored tights, my cute black cap-sleeve babydoll dress decorated with black buttons, which accent its scoop neckline and pockets. It is lightly pleated below the collar and its hem is above the knee. Actually, the hem is well above the knee!

I slip on my black faux suede platform pumps with a 3½” heel. The only jewelry I wear is a watch with a silver bracelet band, a pair of silver hoop clip-on earrings, my wedding band and engagement ring.

I spritz myself with Chanel No. 5 and grab my purse.

My spouse is still asleep in bed. I give her a light peck on the cheek so I don't smudge my lipstick.

I get in my Subaru and drive to work. The 35-minute commute is uneventful and I park in my usual spot in the company parking lot.

I love the sound of my heels clicking on the pavement; it puts me into a masculine frame of mind.

Our receptionist, Sue, looks up from his work and smiles when he sees me. He buzzes me in so I don't have to fumble through my purse looking for my security card.

“Hi, Sue,” I say.

“Hi, Andi. You look pretty today. I love your dress.”

“Thank-you.”

I walk to my cubicle and the only person I encounter is Briana. He is wearing a navy blue pin-striped suit with a cropped jacket and a knee-length pencil skirt, a cream colored blouse, nude hose, and patent high heel pumps. His makeup is perfect and he is wearing his chin-length brunette hair in a new pageboy style.

“Hi Bri. I love your new do.”

“Thank-you, Andi. My hairdresser suggested it and I love it, too!”

In my cubicle, I put my purse in my desk drawer, pick up my phone and access my voice mails. Thank, Goddess, there is only one and it’s from my manager, Ms. Bennett.

“Miss Holden, I need you to take a letter, so come down to my office as soon as you get in.”

I am a little put off by her calling me “Miss Holden.” I have been married for over a year now and she knows my name is “Mrs. Vera.” Oh well, she’s the boss.

Saturday, March 16, 2019

It's the Law


“That’s the way it is and you will just have to get used to it,” she explained.

“But I prefer to wear girl’s clothes,” I pleaded.

“I know, sweetheart, but now it’s against the law for boys to dress like girls.”

“But I don’t know how to wear boy’s clothes,” I responded.

“Well, I’ll help you,” she said.

Most boys were already wearing boys’ clothes, but I was a stubborn little boy and would turn on the tears whenever she suggested I begin dressing like a boy. Until now, my tears had been successful, but they would not help me anymore because today the anti-female impersonation law went into effect, which ruled that boys had to dress like boys, not girls.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” she insisted.

Boys I knew who were already dressing like boys did get used to it and learned to like it.

“Now take off your clothes and I will help you get dressed,” she said.

“And that's an order,” she added.

I quickly removed all my clothes and put them in a pile in the middle of the bedroom.

Next she handed me the first item of boy’s clothing to put on.

“Tell me if you need any help,” she proffered.

One-by-one, she handed me another item of boy’s clothing to put on and surprisingly, I needed very little help.

She insisted on showing me how to put on the pantyhose because, “You don’t want to run your very first pair.”

Other than that, I only asked for her assistance twice: to help me close the hooks on my bra and to zip up the back of my dress.

(This story originally appeared in Femulate.org.)