“I like that sort of stuff… but I don’t think I’d have the guts to wear it.” Hannah replied.
“Why not?” I quizzed. “You’re a girl, you can wear anything you want.”
“Well it’s not quite as simple as that.” she said. “You know those Lolita dresses?” she asked. I nodded. “I love those too but I wouldn’t have the guts to wear one in public.”
“At least if you did no one would say… you’re a boy!”
“No but they’d say what the fuck are you wearing?!” she said, describing the Lolita style as cross-dressing for girls.
“There’s brolita too.” I said.
“See, that’s the odd thing… I can understand a boy wanting to dress like that more than I can a girl.”
“Really?” I asked.
Hannah explained that since boys haven’t been through a prissy princess party dress phase that six year old girls go through, then it makes sense that they might want to experience that… when girls do it it’s like, I’m fourteen and want to dress like a five year old.
“I dunno…. it’s no different to me going I’m fourteen and I want to dress like a girl.” I replied. “We’re both dressing up as something we’re not.”
“Yeah maybe.” Hannah replied.
We spent the next hour or two listening to my records and chatting. Hannah liked the festive pyjamas Mum had bought me. I confessed to borrowing her ‘moon’ nightie on occasion. “You can have it if you want.” Hannah said. “I don’t wear it often.” she added.
“Nah it’s OK.” I’ve got my pyjamas now.” I said. “…but ,thanks.” I added.
“Well you may as well… there’s be a lot more of my old clothes heading in your direction tomorrow.” she replied. “One nightie’s not going to make much difference.”