How You Dress it Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 3

Here is the next installment of this story, where we finally learn of Erik's plan. I'm realizing as I continue to write that the plan may seem a little simple or unbelievable, but bear with me, because it gets more understandable as I continue to flesh out details. Enjoy!

How You Dress it Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 3

I had decided at that point that I was going to make crossdressing acceptable by going to school all dolled up, and hopefully with the support of my brothers I could make it seem normal to be someone like Judy. I ran home after school and darted up into the attic: to my satisfaction, everything was exactly where I expected it to be, Dad's old wigs, dresses, and assorted makeup were stashed in a trunk behind the vanity mirror. I began rummaging through the wigs first, tossing aside ones with holes or hairstyles that would look ridiculous on a teenage girl, and eventually began to sort out some of my favorites by color. I finally decided that I wanted to be a blonde and selected a beautiful honey colored wig when Mark walked in behind me. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

     "We're going to be girls for a week. Here, try this on," I said as I chucked him a brunette wig similar to mine.

     "Why?" he asked, neither angry nor fully supportive.

     "Because," I replied, as I adjusted my wig on my head. "That poor Judy is absolutely shunned in school, Frank is friends with her, and of all the people to be supportive of crossdressing in this town, it should be our family."

     "True..." Mark said softly. He looked down at the wig in his hands thoughtfully, then slowly put it on. "You know that Matt is going to hate you for this, right?" he said as he began to look through some assorted dresses with me. "I know. But if we can convince enough people to do this, he'll have to realize how ridiculous he's being," I replied. "Now are you willing to help me?"

     He looked down at the wig in his hands thoughtfully for a minute, then slowly slid it over his own hair. "I'm not as passionate about angering my friends as you seem to be," he said matter-of-factly. "But I do feel that our family has to do something in support of the Phillips, and this seems oddly appropriate, considering our father's history."

     "I'll worry about dealing with Matt," I replied with a smile. "Right now we just need to worry about looking like viable girls for tomorrow."

With that, Mark and I began a thorough search of Dad's old clothes, trying on different dresses, heels, skirts, tops, and bras to see what fit and what looked good. We were so busy modeling and evaluating outfits that we didn't hear our father come up the stairs to the attic. "Hey boys!" he called out as he jogged up the stairs. "What are you doing up in the att-"

     He froze as he glanced at us, all decked out in heels, minidresses, and our wigs. "Dad," I said, spinning around wobbly in my heels. "We need to talk."

     We sat down and discussed my plan to draw attention to the harmlessness of crossdressing by indoctrinating any and all guys at St. Elmo's to support Judy Phillips. "So what do you think?" I asked. "You look a little dazed"

     "I just didn't think I'd see the day when my boys would pick up my old habits..." Dad said with a small smile.

     "Sometimes, the only way to get someone's attention is by shocking them," Mark said. "It worked on you - hopefully we can get the same results at school."

     "Also, we we're wondering if you would teach us how to do our makeup tomorrow morning?" I asked. "Mark, Frank, and I could definitely use some expert advice..."

     Dad's eyes lit up. "I would love to!" He then suddenly sobered up. "But do we have to tell Frank?" he asked pleadingly. "I still don't want him to think that crossdressing is the reason why your mother and I broke up..."

     "You could say that you learned how to do makeup when you helped out at the annual school play for all these years," Mark responded. "Frank is trusting enough to believe that."

     "Alright," Dad answered. "But that means that you 'girls' will have to get up earlier in the morning to get ready."

     "No problem! Thanks for being so understanding," I said, hugging my dad. "Now you should let us get ready - we want to have some time alone with Frank to discuss our plan."

Dad left, and we finished picking out our outfits for the next day and waited for Frank. Right at 6 o'clock he came bounding up the stairs. He took one look at us in our new feminine attire and broke into a huge grin. "You guys look like Judy!" he giggled.

     "That would be a compliment, considering how lovely she looks," I said. "But we need to talk seriously for a moment, because we're dressed 'like Judy' for a reason."

     It wasn't hard to explain to Frank our reason for crossdressing, considering he had experienced Judy's pain up close as her friend. He eagerly took to the clothes we had set out for him, and tried out a few wigs before selecting a brown wig with a hint of auburn color in it. After we were all dressed fully, we sat down to discuss our plans for the next day. "I do not want to force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with," I told both of my brothers. "Because it is quite likely that we will be mocked, bullied, or otherwise tormented much like Judy. In fact, we may not be successful at all in our attempts to convert the boys in our school to dress like us. But I intend to be in full female mode for the next month and will try to get other guys to do the same. So from now on, call me Erika."

     "Ooooh! I want to be called Francine!" exclaimed Frank. "What's your name going to be, Mark?"

     "I don't know...I guess Marcella has a nice ring to it," Mark said. "But how are we planning on convincing anyone at our school to do what we're doing?"

     "Well, first, its important to get people sympathetic to our cause," I said, thinking out loud more than anything. "Then, hopefully it will snowball as we get a bigger and bigger following."

     "We should talk to Claire Van Dyke!" chipped in Frank eagerly. "I'd bet she'd help!"

     "Let's just try and get through tomorrow alive," cautioned Mark pragmatically. "Then we'll see if Claire can help us in any way..."

     "Agreed. Let's worry about looking passable for tomorrow," I smiled, knowing that with Dad's makeup help, Erika, Francine, and Marcella were sure to turn some heads the following day.