Power Dressing




Power Dressing

Chapter 4

By Peta Wilson

Catch up on the story by reading
Parts 1-3| Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8|Part 9|Part 10|Part 11

The clouds had cleared by morning except for the one which appeared to remain over Steven Branigan's head. He had breakfast ready when Christine came down but her sunny smile of greeting seemed lost on him. He barely grunted his "Good Morning". He was grim and uncommunicative.

"What's up?" Christine ventured while they ate.

"Nothing," he replied with a shrug. But he fingered his eyebrows.

"You're worried someone will notice? I'll bet you a thousand bucks they don't."

"They're pretty obvious."

"Only if you're sharp and looking for such things."

"I guess."

He said nothing further and Christine, who had wanted to say more, to ask about the previous afternoon, chose to hang off.

At the salon she worked steadily through the morning feeling a little let down. She met Sylvia for lunch. They ate Italian sandwiches with coffee in the window of Brunch.

"I had a an interesting conversation with Steve yesterday," Christine volunteered.

"I thought you guys didn't talk that much."

"We haven't. Not before. But he had a bee in his bonnet and it raised a long talk like we'd never had before."

"What about?"

"He was reading...Elle, I think, and he came across this ad which showed a girl in a pin-stripe suit, white business shirt and tie. You know one of those power dressing his-clothes-for-her type outfits?"

"Sure. Did he object?"

"No not really. Not about the girl wearing a suit. Actually he was complaining about the inequality of the dress code. You know, girls can wear suits or jeans and boy stuff but boys can't wear dresses."

"Huh! I know some boys who wear dresses. What about Reggie?"

Reggie worked in Sylvia's salon and was always throwing on a dress on some pretext or another.

"Reggie's gay and drag queen, darling. I don't think that's what Steve meant. And besides those boys want to look like girls. Just because we wear a suit doesn't mean we want to look like boys. Most of us anyway."

She went on to explain the gist of the conversation.

"God if Steve wore a dress and makeup he'd get away with being a girl easy," Sylvia said.

Christine contemplated her a for a moment.

"You think so?"

"Sure. He's very pretty. Did you see that jeans ad Calvin Klein did recently? That guy he used was pretty enough as a boy but drop-dead gorgeous as a girl. It made me envious."

Sylvia was not drop-dead gorgeous. She was slightly overweight. She had a slightly hooked nose. Her lips were too thin. But she made up for these faults with style and excellent make-up and she had a big personality.

"I'd forgotten about that," Christine said. "He was beautiful."

They changed the subject. Christine was not about to admit to anything. Not yet.

Back at the salon she searched through copies of older fashion mags and eventually found the Klein ad. She stuffed the magazine into her carry-all.

She arrived home not long after her brother who was much brighter.

"No one noticed, huh?"

He feigned ignorance for a moment.

"Noticed what? Oh that? No."

"I didn't think they would."

He walked out of the kitchen into the living room and turned on the television set. Christine followed him and turned it off again.

He looked up at her.

"Can we talk a minute?"

"Okay."

"You feel bad about yesterday?"

He leaned back onto the divan and sighed.

"Not exactly. I'm a little confused I think."

"I can understand that. But explain."

"Well I'm a boy. I admit I looked pretty good as a girl and that, sort of, threw me a bit. But I went to bed worrying about it. I mean I'm not gay or anything. Why would it..." He hesitated. "Why would I like it that I looked like a girl?"

"You did like it?"

"Um...yes."

"I don't think that has anything to be with being gay or not being gay. Why do you read my fashion magazines so avidly?"

He shrugged. "I like to look at girls."

"But dressed girls not nudies?"

"Yes. I like the clothes as much as the girls. I'm...sort of, moved...is that the word? By beauty. Physical beauty. And the packaging. I admit I really feel envious sometimes of what girls get to wear."

"So you're looking at the clothes as much as the girls?"

"I guess."

She took out the magazine from her handbag and opened it to the Klein ad.

"Do you like her?"

She passed it across to him.

"Hmmm, sure. She's pretty. Sexy too. I'd like to see her wearing something different."

"Like what?"

"I said yesterday I like girls to look like girls mostly. A dress, an outfit, high heels, something classy."

"Of course I can't say for sure but I don't know if she wears such things. She's dressed like that just for the ad."

"What do you mean?"

"She's not a girl, Steve."

She saw him blush.

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. She's a boy."

He looked at the page again.

"Really?"

"Really. Actually, that aside, I went to bed thinking about it too. And I have to agree with you. You are at a disadvantage. If you want to feel less masculine, feminine even, or pretty why shouldn't you be able to dress like us? It's probably outrageous that you have to do it in private but you don't do you? If she..." She pointed to the Klein ad. "....put on a dress and went out swinging down the street no one would ever know would they?"

"No they wouldn't."

"Neither would they if you did the same. Judging from what you saw yesterday, do you think anyone would notice?"

"I guess not."

"So you can do it. That's all I'm saying." She stood up. "I'm going to get us some food."

She had barely begun when he came into the kitchen.

"You don't think it's wrong?"

"No. Why should I? I tend to agree with you that the present arrangement is a little unfair. If you admire beauty and beautiful things, clothes for example, it's probably wrong that you can't indulge yourself anywhere, anytime. Specially..." She glanced at him as she added, "...if you're beautiful yourself. Here. Rip up some lettuce for the salad."

He took the iceberg lettuce from her and began to tear leaves into a bowl.

"Am I?"

"Are you what?"

"I...can't say beautiful. Am I...was I attractive? Truly? I wasn't kidding myself?"

"Pretty as a boy, beautiful as a girl. It's what make up is for, darling. Slice up some tomatoes."

He took the knife from her and began to slice.

"This is the second conversation we've had in two days," she said.

"We've had conversations before."

"Not really. Short discussions maybe."

"I guess. Maybe I've found something we can talk about."

"Maybe. I like it. I don't mean to sound greedy or self-centred but I think it would be lovely if we could talk about things I like. Girl-talk maybe, you'd call it."

He scooped the tomatoes into the bowl and she added celery, beetroot, cheese, and anchovies. She picked up plates and knives and forks and laid them out on the kitchen table.

"Try me," he said, bringing the bowl to the table.

"Okay I will. I had lunch with Sylvia today."

"How is she?"

"She's fine. She really works hard at it that girl. She's not at all pretty really, But she always, somehow, manages to look attractive."

"She's sexy that's why."

"Is she?"

"Sure. She has a kind of come-on look about her. What was she wearing?"

"Just a pleated A-line grey skirt and red top."

"She has great legs."

"Yes she does. And she doesn't mind showing them."

"I've never seen her that she wasn't wearing heels. She likes red doesn't she? She wears that vivid red lipstick. When you've got lips like hers no one sees her bent nose."

Christine laughed. "Very observant. Poor baby. She's between boy friends at the moment. Her vibrator is working overtime."

Steve blushed and Christine noticed it but said nothing.

"Do you like Tommy Hamilton?" he asked.

"Hmmm he's cute. But there's not much up top. Why do you ask?"

"I wondered what sort of a date he was. But you've just answered that."

Watching her younger brother closely she said:

"He's good in bed."

He did not, apparently, react.

"Is that because he's big or just because he's clever?"

"He's clever. Big doesn't count that much."

He looked up from his plate and grinned at her.

"I can't talk all girl-talk," he said. "I can't respond to that. I have no experience."

She laughed. "Let's keep it above the navel then."

"Sure. I picked up the latest Vogue today."

"Did you? See, I like that. Most brothers would never think of it. But you didn't buy it just for me did you?"

"Yes I know. I've only glanced through it. There's some new winter things. This divine simple camel shift dress with a camel overcoat with a tie belt."

"When you see things like that do you ever think you'd like to wear them?"

"Hmmm not exactly. I've never considered the possibility for obvious reasons I guess. But, well...."

"What?"

"It did rush through my mind at a thousand miles an hour this time."

"You're blushing."

"Okay. I know."

"What else."

"Boots. Black boots. Ankle boots, knee boots. High heels medium heels. I love 'em."

"By the way did my shoes fit yesterday?"

"They're a little tight. Maybe a size too small."

"But everything else does?"

"Yes. I noticed."

"Do you want to do it again?"

He hesitated. "Can I think about it? Give me some time."

"Sure. Do you like Mariah Carey?"

"Sure."

"I bought her new CD today. I'll put it on."


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