“Geez Drew,” Bern let out an exasperated sigh, “what are you wearing tomorrow night?”
“What's it matter?”
“Of course it matters, I don't want to clash.”
Oh yeah, the whole co-ordinating outfits thing.
“I dunno, I think it's supposed to be semi formal.”
“Well I know that, the girls filled me in on that, you must have some idea on colour and style though.”
“Bern, remember who I am, clueless in Dernau? How the heck should I know what to wear?”
“You can be a snappy dresser.” She pointed out.
“Not that I'm exactly a fan of dresses but the stuff I kinda like could hardly be described as formal attire.”
Bernie had to admit the truth in that, whilst her friend certainly had a certain flair for often slightly kooky fashion, formal it wasn't.
“So what've you got, we'd best look before we go to get me kitted out.”
“What about this?”
“I wore that at Chrimbo and its too formal.”
“Well as I see it you can either give something a second airing or buy another frock.”
“I am not buying more dresses.”
“Well it's recycle time then, shitza! We're supposed to get the bus up to Anna's in ten minutes.”
That effectively halted the conversation as we both swarmed downstairs to heads for the noon bus that luckily passes our front door. We made it to the stop with the bus fast approaching and clambered on board a bit out of breath.
The ride up the hill to Anna's village wasn't a great deal quicker than if we'd been on bikes, the asthmatic old MAN was a plucky but not exactly adept hill climber. We'd decided to use public transport as we were expecting to have Bern's dance outfit with us on the return trip and well we'd at least be dry on the return trip.
“Hi guys.” Anna greeted us.
“Hiya.” I allowed.
“Hi Anna, thanks for this.” Bern told our host.
“No problem, what are friends for? Lets sort your dress out first then we can get some coffee and cake.”
“Now you're talking!” I grinned, “I can wait down here.”
“Oh no you don't Gaby Bond.” Anna shoved me up the stairs.
“But you'll be undressing an' stuff Bern.” I appealed to my houseguest.
“Well its not like I have anything you don't is it?”
I was girl handled into Anna's inner sanctum and plonked on her makeup stool.
“So what are you wearing Gab's?”
“We've just been having this conversation at ours,” Bern supplied, “everything's too formal or been out too recently.”
“Ooo-kay.” Anna tapped her teeth in thought. “So we need something for our Königin as well.”
She dived into her closet and started shuffling hangers.
“What are you wearing Anna?” Bern enquired.
“That's a surprise, try this Bernie.” She thrust a hanger towards the pregnant one.
Much to my embarrassment Bern just dropped her jeans to the floor and pulled her top off without a thought. The dress was a high-waisted affair, gathered under the bust in what I recognized as Regency style.
“Kewl, you can't see my bump at all, I'll take it!”
“Great, that was my best shot.” Anna admitted, “lets see if we can find something for Gabs.”
That's the quickest I've ever seen Bern decide on an outfit.
“No, hmm maybe, ah now this!”
Anna triumphantly withdrew a hanger from the closet.
“Oh my god,” Bern agreed, “lets get you into this Gabs, its perfect!”
Perfect for what?
“Don't you think it's a bit er frilly?”
“It wouldn't suit me,” Bern allowed, “but with your figure.”
“Come on Gabs, lose the bustenhalter too.” Anna cajoled.
“You what?” I exclaimed.
“It's got built in cups, it won't fit over your bra.” She explained.
Oh joy. Not that I've got a lot of choice in this. Reluctantly I stepped out of my own jeans before removing my T and releasing my booblets.
“Oh come on Gabs, stop hiding your assets and get this on.” Anna encouraged as she pulled the frothy confection up my legs.
With more than a little reservation I released my appendages.
“Oh mein Gott! They are perfect!” Anna exclaimed.
So okay they don't droop, which is good I suppose – if you are a girl, but perfect – hardly.
“Stop gawping, it's cold!” my nipples were quickly showing their agreement.
“Er soz Gabs.” Anna pulled the ‘dress' up and I slipped my arms through the shoulder straps.
“Oh boy, you have so got to wear that.” Bernie stated as Anna made some adjustments to the bodice.
“You sure its not too much?” I asked for the umpteenth time.
“How many more times, its perfect.” Bern stated once again.
Anna insisted it was ‘the one' and even called Gloria up for her opinion, I never stood a chance really. Its not that I hated it myself, just not on me, the bodice was tight and designed to emphasise the wearers assets and the floaty skirts screamed Disney ® princess. It could have been nauseatingly tacky but the off white somehow suited it well and I must admit from what I could see in Anna's mirror, I looked a bit of a Fox – not that I wanted to of course, I'd rather not be going to the flippin' toe crusher.
“I'm not wearing heels.”
“We discussed that already, you need them so the skirt isn't dragging the floor.”
“Its not you wearing them” I pouted.
“I have a valid excuse.” She mentioned rubbing her tum.
“So do I, I'm a boy!” I shrilled through gritted teeth.
“Not good enough, and from where I'm sat you look like a regular Lolita.”
“Oh cheers, just what I wanted to hear.”
“Well you must admit boys with chest's like yours aren't exactly two a penny.”
Maybe if they were I wouldn't feel like such a freak.
Once we were back at Chez Bond I made my excuses and took refuge in my eyrie. Flippin' girls, flippin' dresses. I found the latest MAZ (Modell Auto Zeitung) and took refuge in the world of miniature automobilia. I think I've mentioned it before but here in Germany this stuff and by extension railways and dioramas are taken a lot more seriously than back home in the UK. It didn't take me long to forget by dress woes and become engrossed in how convert the latest Herpa MKI Ford Escort saloon into a passable estate version – with the help of an Opel Kadett, some filler and a bit of imagination.
“Drew? What are you doing up there?” Mum's voice enquired.
“My room pronto, I need to see this dress you've borrowed, if I need to make any adjustments I'd prefer not to be doing it tomorrow evening.”
“No arguments, it won't take long.”
Its easier to give in when she's in one of these moods so with ill will I grabbed the hanger with Anna's dress off the wardrobe door and descended to the ‘rents bed chamber on the floor below.
“Come on kiddo, show some initiative for a change, put it on.”
She gave me such a withering look that I swallowed the rest of my complaint and started changing into the hateful garment.
“Hmm, bit more décolletage than I'd like but I guess you are fifteen.”
“What's that got to do with anything?”
“You get more leeway on stuff like this. Put these on.” She instructed handing me a pair of shoes with I reckon 8cm heels.
“Do I have to?”
“Yes we do, no daughter of mine is going out looking like their mother is Loretta Slob.”
“I'm running out of patience Gaby.” She warned.
In the end there wasn't anything to do except to put a couple of stitches in the hem.
“The colour is fading on your eyelids.” Mum noted as she did a dry run on tomorrows makeup.
“Not before time, I feel like a right freak with it on all the time.”
“Hmm, best not let your Dad see you in this until tomorrow, he'll throw a hairy fit.”
“What's wrong with it?” I asked hoping to score a reprieve.
“Nothing's wrong with it, it just makes you look older and Dad's are never keen to see their daughters grow up.”
“But I'm his son.” I pointed out.
“Not from where I'm stood kiddo.”
Well I have to admit that dressed up like this there's about a one in several million chance that I'd get ‘mistaken' for the male of the species. Terrific.
“Get yourself out of that lot then, we don't want you spilling your dinner down it, or for your father to see it.”
“Yes Mum.” I sighed.
To be continued....
Maddy Bell 03.06.09 © 2009