Inside, the shop stretched much further back than expected and it’s laid out in partitioned sections, making it feel more like lots of little shops rather than one big shop. One section would be all purple and lilac things, another is all white, some have all rabbit, teddy bear or kitten designs and another is dedicated to Hello Kitty stuff. Towards the back is a pink and blue section, which Mum pays more attention to since I’d apparently like a blue dress, but I’m not being very helpful when she tries to find one I like. There’s also a completely blue section in which I spot something that doesn’t look too bad. It’s one of those old fashioned sailor style dresses in navy blue with no satin, no frilly stuff and no bows hanging all over it, just some white stripes around its big square sailor style collar.
“Well it’s nice.” Mum said. “And I’m sure it’d look lovely, but it’s not really a party dress is it?”
“I don’t know.” I replied. “I just like it better than all the other stuff in here.” I said as I cast my eyes around the items on display. In addition to the prissy dresses were some short suits similar to that Peter wore on the day I visited him. Although absolutely fucking horrible, they too didn’t look quite as bad as many of the dresses, so I suggested one of those (but not in a girlie colour). Again, Mum said they were nice but for a party I need a party dress.
I was surprised at just how big the shop was on the inside, and was doubly surprised when I realised that there’s also an upper floor. If the ground floor was scary viewing for a boy, then the upstairs put the fear of God in me. Not only does it have a huge selection of the girliest footwear you’ve ever seen, it also has underwear and sleepwear too. We had a quick browse upstairs before Mum said that we need to find me a dress before we start choosing underwear and footwear. “I don’t want underwear!” I blurted.
“Please don’t raise your voice to me John.” Mum said. I quietly apologised before quietly telling her that I neither want nor need any of that underwear. “If you don’t have nice underwear too, you’ll only be half dressed.” she told me. I suggested that my own boy’s undies would do, but Mum said it most certainly would not ‘do’. “You need ‘nice’ underwear.” she informed me. “Now are you going to help me choose a dress or shall I just choose one for you?”
