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Crossdressed at the Fabric Store

May 15, 2016


I needed to buy some menswear.  I dressed pretty during my lunch break and went on a shopping trip.  I was wearing a long black skirt, nude hose, black flat shoes, an orange top, and a white, collared shirt.  The white shirt was unbuttoned and was not tucked in.  I, like usual, was wearing my man head.  Also, I currently have a beard.  I felt pretty.  The soft skirt kissed my shins and ankles as I walked.  It was nice.

First, I went to a fast food restaurant.  It was early and no customers were there yet.  When I walked up to the counter I pulled some money out to be ready.  I recognized the lady at the counter.  She served me that last time I came to that restaurant in a skirt.  Apparently, she was rather distracted by my outfit.  She reached out to take my money.  I almost gave it to her because I was a little distracted as well.  We recognized our mistake and laughed together.  For some reason, I was less nervous than normal this time.

Once I had placed my order, the server and I started talking.  She was open and friendly.  I was amazed at how comfortable I was.  I filled my drink and got my food and sat down to eat.  Around the time I was finished eating, three men entered the restaurant.  They were men who worked outside.  Hard-working men.  They got in line to order their lunches.  At this point, I felt less comfortable.  I have never had trouble with men like this, but I feel like they would disapprove of me more than other men.  While they were in line, I stood up, threw away my trash, and left.  I never looked to see if they noticed me.

I drove toward the clothing store.  As I was driving, I noticed a fabric store that was having a sale.  I decided to take a quick look.  It turned out that it was rather large sale.  I started off by doing my browsing while staying hidden between the racks.  Shortly later, I was walking freely in the open.  I became unconcerned about who saw me.  I started out thinking that I was out of my normal shopping environment.  These people were all calm, conservative, “crafty” people.  But it was no different than shopping anywhere else.

At one point, I asked a woman, “Do you sew a lot?”  She said she did.  I asked, “How do you decide what scissors to buy?”  There were so many at a wide range of prices.  She came right over and started giving me perspectives.  I started to feel like she was giving me too much help.  She was all in.  She gave me good advice and then took me to another aisle where the most expensive scissors were on display.  She called them the “Cadillacs” of scissors.  They were priced accordingly!

Much later, I asked another woman for help.  She seemed to me to be rather conservative.  I figured she found me distasteful due to my choice of dress.  However, I needed help and she was the closest person.  I asked her to help me understand how much fabric was required for a pattern.  She was just as polite and helpful as the previous woman.  I had wrong about her.  Perhaps crafty people are just very passionate about this stuff.

I selected my fabrics to buy.  The woman at the cutting counter was young and conservatively dressed.  I could not tell if she had noticed what I was wearing.  I asked some questions about my fabric.  She voluntarily took me over to another area to show me the linen fabric.  It was too expensive (five times as much as broadcloth).  We walked back.  By this point, she had seen my outfit, yet her politeness and demeanor was not different.  I love this!  I felt so welcome and normal.

Next, I went to the cash register.  I think I may have forgotten that I was crossdressed.  I paid and left.  It was a total non-event.  However, by this point in my experience I always assume it is going to be a non-event…  Because it always is.

I left the fabric store, changed clothes, and went back to work.  I had spent an hour shopping in that store.  I will have to buy my menswear some other day…

I returned to the fabric store wearing my bright green skirt for a few more items.  The girl at the cutting area saw me and called out to me with a smile asking how my project was going.  She remembered what it was I was planning on making.  I must have stood out to her somehow…  But she was comfortable being friendly calling out to me.  That made me happy.


From → True Stories

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  1. Fabric Store Revisit | joeypress

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