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Dear Helga, This is an account of petticoat discipline that might be of interest to your readers. From references to the Beatles and the movie "Georgy Girl," it probably dates to 1966 or 1967. "My brother and I generally got along pretty well until an incident that happened when I was 13. My brother, whose name is George, was 11 at the time. Our parents were going out of town for an over night trip and had arranged for George to stay with his friend Bill. It worked out even better for me. My best girl friend Marlene got her mother's permission for a pajama party/sleep over for Marlene, me and three other girls. It was set for Friday. That morning my mom drove us to school and on the way I left my clothes for the over night at Marlene's. Her mom was to pick us up after school; which she did. Wouldn't you know, when I unpacked at Marlene's I realized I had left all my cosmetics at home. What's a pajama party without tons of goo to put on your face! Since the other girls hadn't gotten there yet; they weren't coming until dinner time, Marlene and I walked the three blocks to my house to pick up what I needed. That was when things began to happen. As Marlene and I went into the house we realized George was there--and he was in my bedroom were he had no business being. He had my underwear drawer open and was messing with my bras and panties. My mom liked to say I was a 100% girly girl; and I guess I was. From the time I was little.I liked things that were frilly and lacy and most anything that was pink. As a 13 year old I still did. Maybe if I was a tom boy and wore "plain Jane" underwear it wouldn't have bothered me so much. But as it was, I was really mad. These were my newest and nicest things. He had no business being in my bedroom; and definitely not touching my bras and panties. I gave him a chewing out you wouldn't believe and told him, as soon as mom and dad got back they would hear about it and then he would really be sorry. Mom would have no sympathy with him being in my bedroom without my permission and with dad it would be even worse. Dad had played all kinds of sports in high school and wasn't too happy that George wasn't that big and had no interest at all in sports. If he thought George was into "girly stuff" on top of everything else, I could only imagine what he would do. George must have been thinking the same thing because he begged me not to tell mom and dad. He was just "curious," he said. I'll bet he was. "I'll do anything," he pleaded, "anything at all. Just don't tell." I was still steamed but I could see Marlene motioning me to go out into the hall. When I followed her out, Marlene said, "I've got a great idea. Tell me what you think." The idea she came up with was kind of far out; but in a way it was perfect for what he did. It took a while for us to iron it out but when we were done, this is what it came down to. He could take his chances with mom and dad, or; he could go to the slumber party with us as my "cousin" from out of town who had shown up unexpectedly and was invited to be "one of the girls." If he did everything we said--100%--we wouldn't tell mom and dad and with any luck the girls at the party would be none the wiser. It was all up to him. Really, he had no choice and he knew it. We called Bill's mother and told her, mom and dad had decided to take George with him on their trip. Now it was up to us to see just how sweet and girly we could make him look. To our surprise, he turned out to be be very pretty. It helped that his hair was fairly long. You can thank the Beatles for that. This was another thing dad was less than happy about. "No son of mine is going to have hair that long." But mom liked the Beatles and didn't think their hair styles were all that bad. So, at least for the time being, George got to wear his hair long. I think now he may have been regretting it. I found him a panty girdle to wear. Mom had bought it for me and it was the one item of underwear I had that George was more than welcome to. It was tight on me; and was just as tight on him ; but it did the job. I came to realize as we dressed him, that he and I were actually pretty close in size, I picked out a bra for him to wear and it fit fine; except for the cups which needed padding. At 13 I was close to a "B" cup and George, of course, was pretty much flat chested. Marlene took care of that by stuffing the cups with rolled up nylons. Not as good as "real" falsies, but not all that bad either. I had him put on a little half slip, and then over it a pink dress, mini length, that I had gotten just recently. Really short. If dad didn't like long hair on his son, he wasn't much happier with short skirts for his daughter. But once again mom had prevailed and I got to keep it. Dad probably would have died if he saw his son wearing a mini skirt. I never thought of George as being all that good looking, but as a girl, he was just darling. He had big brown eyes and those long lashes that boys sometimes have, that girls would kill for. He also had cute legs. Marlene commented, "it's not fair how pretty he looks." I couldn't disagree with that. It was mid June so sandals were fine for foot wear. We added a little make up; did a few things to his hair and when we were finished, we had a very cute girl to take to the slumber party. George, for his part, was embarrassed beyond belief. He blushed a bright red every time Marlene or I would comment on his looks. A couple times, when the humiliation got too bad, he had to fight back tears; only to have us remind him that "spoiling his make up" would only make matters worse. George was sure that Marlene's mother, who he had met a couple times, would recognize him. She didn't although we came close to giving things away when she asked what my cousin's name was. George was tongue tied and I drew a blank. I couldn't very well say "George." It was Marlene who came to the rescue with "Georgiana." Marlene's mother.had just seen the movie, "Georgy Girl" and said, "Oh, like in the movie." Marlene answered, "yes," and George blushed an even brighter shade of red. From then on, he was "Georgy Girl" Truthfully, he made it through the pajama party better than we expected. The other girls never suspected he was anything other than what I had told them, my out of town cousin. They were polite but otherwise pretty much ignored him; which from George's point of view was the best thing that could happen. Still, I'm sure it was a real learning experience for him as we did each others make up and nails, danced, and talked about boys--lots of boy talk. At one point somebody brought up little brothers and what a pain they were. Watching George cringe, I couldn't help saying, "maybe it's because they don't know what it's like to be a girl." Most of the others felt it was more a case of kid brothers being just naturally miserable. George's 'moment of truth" came during the "modelling session" where each of us modelled something. Marlene decided "Georgy Girl" should model a pair of frilly baby doll pajamas that one of the girls had brought. He knew better than to beg off and he did model them. With his pretty legs he looked really nice in them and the girls clapped and tried to get him to do a little runway routine like models do on TV. That he did beg off of. The next morning before we left I took off his fingernail and toe nail polish. On the walk home, he didn't say much; just acted very relieved that he had somehow made it through the pajama party and sleep over in one piece. When we went in the house I asked him if he had learned his lesson. He said, "you better believe it." I can't wait to get out of this girdle." I couldn't help but laugh and I told him "that's what girls go through to look pretty." As he went into his room to change, I thought to myself, it really would be kind of fun to have a little sister. So I told him, "if you still want to wear my undies, you can if you ask.." He never asked.. I guess once was enough." Sincerely, Just Wondering Thank you for your letter 'Just Wondering'. I too wonder if on the inside he was secretly thrilled by the opportunity to wear your clothes. Helga |