Memories and Dreams

By Marie Anne Greene

In her (my) Teen-Years, high school, that is particularly from sophomore and on, Marie (I) knew-suspected that part or all of her wanted to be or was a girl although society, family and public would not permit it. Knowing this was the world she was in and would have to survive and excel in purposefully suppressed, in the physical sense any feminine inclinations however this was not so in the imaginary world of the stage, movies and the best of all her inner theater of the mind.

Just recently, this morning in fact, after a comfortable night’s sleep ala fem, in a delicately smooth red floor length, bare armed shift (a girl gift from Tanya) which just floated down after, over raised arms, dropping it over her head and shoulders finally gently settling, no just hoovered a millimeter or less over her tanned skin providing a most delightful feeling of femininity. No tucking, pulling, squeezing as it settled and fell perfectly highlighting her Feminine silhouette, soft bare shoulders, pleasantly rounded breasts, natural slimming of the waist with a polite proportioned flaring of the hips.

After sweeping the skirt to the side and swinging her tanned legs in tandem to the carpeted floor casually sliding her manicured silver pearled toes into her most (only) pair if soft, pink pearled slippers (more than four years old) and still going strong, she rose and stretched from toes to finger tips with a little butt wiggled included. Oh! How wonderfully female. A joyous thrill.

As she did the morning routine, night light off, tea pot on, window blinds up, same for door blinds, a quick step on to the porch to check the temperature and get a taste of the cool but warming air, felling the breeze tug at the skirt and play with her shoulder length honey blonde tresses. All pleasant little perks and reminders of the joys of being a girl. Wonderful, just wonderful.

Somewhere in this brief period of glorious natural reverie several memories from those high school years surfaced in vivid full technicolor detail along with their companying melodies. One was a stage production performed at an outside oceanside amphitheater at a place called Jones Beach on Long Island outside of New York City. The title was as best I can recall—Bells, Bangles and Beads – The setting was Middle Eastern Harem with many dancing Girls all with the most graceful movements and obviously delicious costumes. I just envisioned what it would like to be one of the dancers, of course there was no way or person I could express these thoughts, wishes, dreams. That was just the times.

Another was a similar experience although this time it was another Colorful singing dancing extravaganza, a fantasy movie, its title was: Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. As the titled suggested there were at least seven pretty young vivacious actresses, all wearing colorful somewhat stylized western costumes with full skirts, trim waists and appropriate breasts. There was a lot of dance numbers where the girls were swept into air with skirts and legs flying. I was envious of how pretty they looked and much fun they were apparently having (in the story that is) I knew all that dancing and singing was work but it still could be fun.

Well I do not know what brought these long-ago memories and dreams to light this morning but they did prompt me to remember a skirt I had purchased about two months back which I had not worn, except to try it on. It was a colorful, full sweep skirt which swished as a reminder of femininity as one walked. I did not quite race to closet to find it but it was in a deliberate search mode. My homing instinct must have been on high as my eyes quickly zeroed in on it and my left hand quickly grabbed the hangar, swirled the skirt like it was a Matador’s cape and stepped into it. Immediately, noticed it zippered up smoothly a nice feeling as I recalled when I tried it on there was a little tugging and pulling and sucking in of the waist at the time. None of that this time. It was a wonderful feeling and warranted a Girlish spin in front of the mirror. The image passed muster and felt I just had to capture this entire story immediately, SO dear reader propped my derriere clad skirt and red top at my PC, limbered up my pink pearl tipped fingers and created this little piece as they say “As a stream of consciousness”. Hope you have enjoyed it. Capture your own special memories and have fun.

Wearing Paige

Two youths femulating on Halloween. Don’t know when, but my guess is in the 1960s or 1970s. How I wished I could have gone trick or treating en femme at their age. And I so regret not accepting my friend’s invitation to do so back then. (You can read all about that here.)