A Day In, by Ellen Vickrey
“That skirt is far too short,” I said. “If you want to pass as a girl, you need something longer. You have man legs.”
My boyfriend, Gary, rolled his eyes. “I look fine in it.”
“You don’t look like a girl.”
“I’m not a girl.”
“You said you wanted to look like one.”
Back into the closet went the horrid yellow skirt, to my satisfaction. I was no longer the only person shamed by it.
“What about the brown one?” I asked.
“It’s boring.”
“Why do you want to look like a girl?”
A siren wailed at us from four stories below as a reminder that the world was not limited to my apartment.
“I guess I want to see what the world is like?”
Gary seemed to be asking me, as if I was the one to decide. I had no answers. I was as confused and ill-defined as he.
“Is it about the world or you?”
Seconds passed. I could tell they were seconds from the hands on the clock.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah.”
More seconds passed, but I didn’t check the clock this time. It wasn’t important. The sirens on the street weren’t important. Gary’s smile was.
“Can I wear the long lacy one?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “But you won’t fit into the corset.”
*
Ellen Vickrey is a creature that rarely comes out during the daytime and is commonly known as the ‘urban unicorn’. If you manage to spot her, you should contact your local wildlife control.
Tags: drag, ellen vickrey, relationships, short skirt