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Lunch, Haircut, Shopping

March 12, 2017


It was time for another hair cut.  I did not want to wear a skirt.  I wanted to wear a dress!  I do not get to wear dresses very often.  I am taller than most women (and most men).  Most dresses’ waistlines do not fall near my waist.  I do not wear a bra or have breasts.  Therefore, I avoid dresses that have a dart in them and extra fabric up top.  I am a V-shaped man (though I am approaching U-shape) and most dresses are not V-shaped.  Dresses that fit me in the shoulders and also fit me in the hips are particularly hard to find.  Also, I do not wear dainty/girly patterns and styles.  Ladies’ business styles normally work well for me.  Dresses that I can/will wear are hard for me to find.  I only own three dresses that I have ever worn out.

For this outing, I chose my dress that has a brush stroke pattern of black, and gray.  Under it, I wore a black shirt.  I also wore off-black pantyhose, and black flats.

It is the time of year when I stop shaving my legs.  I thought my leg whiskers would not be very obvious yet.  I wore the darker hose to help hide them.  When I got dressed, I thought, “Oh, no!  My hairs are kind of easy to see!”  I did not stop because of this.  I just hoped that they were not noticeable from over six feet (2 meters) away.

Sandwich shop
First I went back to a sandwich shop I have eaten lunch at a couple of times.  It was a non-event.  There was a family at one table eating.  They finished and left while I was placing my order.  A woman who has served me in the past took my order.  I paid for my meal, sat down, and ate my food.  I chose a seat in the corner.  I was able to watch the many customers who started pouring into the restaurant around noon.  They all took their food to go.  None of them paid me any attention.  Eventually, a couple ladies sat at the booth next to mine.  One made eye contact with me a couple times.  I could not tell if she had noticed my outfit or not.  When I got up to leave I noticed that she looked down at my legs.  I did not watch her or her companion to see any further reaction.  When I exited the restaurant a moment later, I turned my side to the door.  I glanced at the ladies.  They were talking and paying me no attention.  Win!

Hair Salon
I returned to the hair salon that I went to last month (same link as above).  This was my second visit to this salon.  Once again, I was the only man in the room.  I was not the only person in a skirt/dress.  An elderly woman was also wearing a skirt.  Otherwise, it was a pants-only establishment.  From the waiting area, I waved at the hairdresser who gave me my haircut last time.  I had an appointment with her for this visit as well.  I took a seat in the empty waiting room and waited.  The front desk woman was elderly.  She gave me a strange look.  After a moment, she asked me if she could help me.  I told her who I was waiting for.

Eventually, my hairdresser came for me.  I had gotten the impression that this salon was a rather conservative place.  The magazines in the waiting room had holes cut in the covers where women’s bodies were exposed.  I had visited their web presence.  I had clicked through to the pages of several hair dressers.  Several had information indicating that they were ladies of religious faith.  When I decided to go for my first visit, I wondered if they were going to ask me not to return unless I was dressed in menswear.  My clothes were never mentioned.  They accepted me as a customer.  My hairdresser was very social with me.  She seemed slightly more casual than last time.  A couple other hairdressers spoke to me as I walked to my chair.  The owner of the salon remembered my name.  This is interesting to me!

My hairdresser completed my haircut.  She washed my hair.  I paid her.  We even stood and talked for a couple minutes before I left.  I am a regular in a conservative women’s hair salon!

Consignment Store
My last stop was to the consignment store where I find nice clothes and get good advice.  I call the owner my “big sister” for fashion advice.  I arrived and the owner greeted me.  I asked her to give me something to try on that will grow me.  I am too conservative in my color and style choices.  I think I am doing better, but my fashion tendency is more toward librarian and grand mother than toward the middle-aged extrovert that I am.

The owner selected a black and white zebra print top.  It was made of a very soft, stretchy knit fabric.  It is a lovely fabric!  Another customer came in.  I continued browsing the racks while the owner dealt with her.  The customer looked at me but did not speak to me.  I assumed I made her uncomfortable.  I selected a few other items to try on.  I went into the dressing room.  I could hear the customer talking to the owner while I getting dressed.  I was not discussed, of course.

I put on a red skirt with the black and white top.  I stepped out of the dressing room.  The customer looked over at me.  The owner said it was the best thing she had ever seen me wear.  I looked over at the customer.  She said, “It is a very good outfit.”  I found myself between two women who were giving me positive feedback on how I looked a rather bold colored, skirt and blouse.  These are weird days, my friends!

I tried on another skirt with the zebra print top.  Another customer arrived in the store while I was changing.  The owner started helping the new customer.  I came back out of the dressing room.  The first customer talked with me about this skirt with the top versus the other skirt.  An additional woman arrived.  She appeared have been either the owner’s friend or perhaps an employee.

I tried on another skirt.  I came out and asked for the owners opinion.  This time, three women gave me insights on the outfit.  Their opinions were all different on the last one.  I decided to buy two skirts (the red one and a black one) and the zebra top.

While I was changing into my men’s wear in the dressing room, I realized that my camera was in my bag.  I forgot to get a picture of me in my gray  and black dress.  I did not dress back up just for a picture.  Perhaps I will produce one later…


From → True Stories

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