On dressing up in woman's clothing - an appeal from my corrupt Uncle Brenda
My corrupt Uncle Brenda needs your help.
He wants to know where I ...He... can get larger size shoes from an understanding shop that won't smirk when he walks in wearing a lovely gingham frock. Please help me ...err... him. He's also got a certain problem with going into Marks and Sparks and lying to the assistants about my ..his… err… dress size without coming out in a hot flush that makes his foundation run.
Despite Marks and Sparks being full of women who clearly share my …errr… Uncle Brenda's harmless hobby (or, merely have a face like a bag of spanners and need a damn good shave), he was pulled up by the store detectives trying to leave the lingerie department with a dozen pairs of hi-leg panties tucked into his brief case. The police took a dim view of this type of thing and took him down the station for some “fashion tips”.
Uncle Brenda tells me he's had enough of this kind of thing in Peacocks as well: “We don’t cater for those sorts of tastes in Basingstoke. Try Aldershot, I hear that anything goes over there. Now get out and don’t darken my shop door again.”
Oh yes, Aldershot, being an army town, has got plenty of specialist shops, just right for the kind of guy in tight, tight foundation wear and smooth, black seamed stockings under a starchy nurse's uniform, just how I ...errr.... he likes it. But the parking's terrible, and there's every likelihood he'll run into cousin Julia and his dreadful blackmailing habits.
He says mail order's a dead loss. He tells me the wife (Aunty Brian) is bound to find out, and the office mail room will always x-ray, open and ruthlessly stain anything that looks the remotest part frilly.
Uncle Brenda needs your help! Do you think he should try jumble sales, charity shops, or should I …he… just brazen it out and head for Matalan?
And while we're here - tights or stockings? Fake pearls, or the real thing? And is a French Maid's outfit in public considered particularly tarty? Educated minds need to know.
GW wrote half of this sad act of uncley confession, I suspect from personal experience. Read his blog.
Woo!: New blog-me-do by TV's Mr Biffo.
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