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This is the second part of my crossdressing story/fascination with woman’s clothes posts and the timing of this particular story could not come at a better time given children (across the world?) will be performing in their school Christmas plays (assuming they haven’t been cancelled given the current state of the world of course).
One year, I had to wear tights in my school Christmas play. I was in either year 1 or year 2 (UK school system), so would have been around five or six. I, along with around ten other children was to be a piece of tinsel.
The teaching assistant gathered us around and said, with a twinkle in her eye.
“For our performance, we’re going to be wearing tights” she emphasised the word tights, paused for dramatic effect drinking in our blank stares, then said laughing “even the boys!”
A chorus of embarrassed groans went around the assembled boys, with gasps and giggles from the girls. As for myself, I swallowed my emotions and didn’t really react, although looking back I can sense their was a niggle of anger and fear (I often wonder these days, is making children wear silly costumes for school plays etc really a healthy thing to do? ).
When rehearsals came round I was given a pair of ribbed red opaque cotton tights. I rather liked them and found them nice and comfy. I wasn’t interested in wearing girls clothing at the time, although I was curious (which I will talk about in another post).
These tights had one major problem, there was a large hole in the crotch area. I tried to sit with my legs together so no one would notice, but a classmate saw. He pointed out to me only the lead, George (not real name), was supposed to have holes in his tights (the performance was about this deshelled piece of tinsel, whose costume was the same as all the other pieces of tinsel expect rips and holes were cut into his tights).
My classmate told the teacher, and I was given another pair of tights. I wasn’t so keen on these new tights. They were purple, nylon, perhaps around 40 denier, and textured with little balls patterned all over them. They didn’t look nice, nor were they as comfy as my previous red tights.
“What are wearing in the Christmas play?” Mum asked, one evening close to the performance, a big grin on her face. I gave her blank look, Mum was very good at asking me random questions out of the blue.
“Have you got to wear tights?” she giggled.
I nodded, annoyed she was bringing this up randomly and teasing me. I enjoyed being teased by Mum, and had the environment been different, maybe I could have playfully prompted her to buy me a pair of tights.
“What colour?”
“Purple.”
“Well at least their your favourite colour.”
I remember my favourite colour being blue, but hey ho, purple was probably my favourite colour at the time. I wanted to say how I had originally been given a red pair which were much nicer, but having been caught off guard by this conversation I found I couldn’t say anything.
When performance day came round, it wasn’t the tights which felt weird to wear, it was the top. We wore sleeveless tops, made from a stiff velvet type material. I’d never worn sleeveless tops before, and I noticed how odd it felt to have my upper arms exposed.
We went onstage to raucous laughter from the parents, and that was that.
Around the same time, I performed in another show, this time a fundraising event for my local scout group (I was in the beaver section at the time which is for 6-8 year olds). Each section was to perform a small act.
An early idea for our section was to perform Old McDonald Had A Farm, and someone needed to play the part of Mrs McDonald. This was in the 90s when Scouts was boys only. I nearly volunteered for Mrs McDonald, only anxiety of being on stage stopped me (particularly with my parents in the audience). But I certainly enjoyed the idea of being Mrs McDonald, wearing a nice old fashioned dress, the sort of thing a farmers wife would wear. Another boy, with more confidence than me volunteered for the part (I think he was the only one).
As it turned out, we never performed Old McDonald Had A Farm, instead we opted for a circus act, which was much more comfortable to perform. And consisted of us running around the stage like lunatics for the duration of the act, slipping on pretend banana skin, throwing bean bags around, and creating general carnage!
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