The Blue Dress

The Blue Dress - Part One

'It's so unfair, why do I have to wear a dress to prom?'

'You were cheeky to me and rude to your sister about her dress. So you will sleep in a nightie tonight, and I will get you all dolled up in the morning.'

I went to bed that night struggling to sleep, the nightie left me feeling so exposed. I was feeling a breeze even under my duvet but eventually, my eyes closed.

I woke the next day to my mum ordering me to go get breakfast quickly so that she could start getting me ready. I knew better than to irritate her on this morning, she had probably been awake hours getting everything set up. I quickly ate some cereal and then reported to my mum's room. She ordered me to go in the shower while she 'sorted my outfit.'

In the bathroom, there were a couple of bright pink bottles of soap stuff. There was a note taped to them which said, 'Use this stuff please princess, and be sure to shave all over xxx.' I shuddered at being called princess but started running the water with full intention of following the instructions. She was already annoyed with me, I thought best to just get this over with.

Shaving felt weird and hurt a little bit. Once I was done making my skin hairless, I used the moisturiser to soften it all and soothe the pain. I then had to use the Disney princess shampoo and shower gel, which were the two bottles with the note on them. I turned the shower off after what felt like forever and wrapped a towel around my shivering body. I dried myself off a considerable bit and then promptly reported back to my mum.


Pleased with my efforts, she handed me a pair of white panties with a pink outline. I tried to protest but instead just asked her to look away while I put them on, which she did. I slid the awkward underwear up my legs and over my private area, feeling very silly. Mum giggled and then helped me put the matching bra on. 'You were made for this stuff, hon.' Resisting any retort, I just stood there blushing. Mum then showed me my dress for the day and it was even worse than I was told.
On my bed was a blue knee-length gown with a floral lace pattern stitched in. Mum stuffed my bra with a pair of silicone breast forms and then she helped me into the blasted thing. I stepped into it shaking while she pulled it up and encouraged me to put my arms through the straps, the right of which had a distinct flower design on it. Mum was gushing over how I looked as she zipped the dress up at the back and buttoned it at the top. She then sent me down to the makeup artist.

'Ah yes, you must be Alicia, the little prom princess. My name is Cheryl, and it's my job to get you looking your prettiest for when you go to the biggest night of your teenage life.'

Alicia? Where did that name come from? I guess I was Alicia today, at least it should cover up my real identity. Not that real identity was going to matter anyways. I hoped everyone was so focussed on their own stuff that nobody even paid attention to me or my newly enforced femininity.

So Cheryl got started on my makeup but was strangely talking to me like I was a real girl. I suppose she didn't know but still it was so weird, especially when she asked anything about boyfriends or periods. The last thing I wanted to do was blow my own cover so I made some stuff up just based on what I knew. I claimed that I had 'my time of the month' a week ago and that 'my hot boyfriend and I have been going out for 3 months and we talk all the time at school like best friends.' Just typical girly conversation that wouldn't flag anything up that would make her think 'this is a boy.' I was clean shaven all over and in a dress with the name Alicia so adding a boyfriend into the mix was just extra cover, even more so since I had a date to prom.

While this awkward conversation laboured on, Cheryl destroyed my face with makeup. She assaulted it to an insane level of detail. I was wearing pretty much every little chemical in her bag on my face. She even took it upon herself to paint my fingernails and toenails a shimmering royal blue and attach fake eyelashes to my own authentic ones. She painted a vibrant red shade on my lips with a very sticky substance and rubbed at least 7 different powders under my eyes. I panicked a little when she kept going near my open eyes with the eyeliner which prompted her to ask if I ever wear makeup. I went for the safest cover of 'yeah but I never use liner on my eyes – too messy for school.' She bought that explanation and I had no complaints.

Thinking that Cheryl was finished after all of her artwork was foolish, she still had to sort my hair out. 'Your mother wants you to have long hair for the day, so I'll weave some nice and soft extensions into your owns hair.'

At this point, there was no point in trying to escape it and so I just let her continue to work on my appearance over and over again until she was finally happy with it.

'Just in time Alicia, you'll have to rush and get your shoes on right now. Have the best night, princess.'

Getting used to that name was easier than I thought. Then again, it would be much easier since Cheryl kept bloody talking while she did me up and used my name a lot. Turns out that she was doing my makeup and hair for HOURS, and time was quickly running out. My date was going to be at the door in ten or so minutes. I had to hurry.

I went back to my mum who gushed over me, making me feel even more embarrassed. I really hoped she wouldn't do this in front of my date. Hell, I hoped my date didn't arrive. I hoped that the whole thing would be cancelled or even just turn out to be a bad dream. But as she handed me a shoebox which had 5 inch sparkly silver stiletto heels in it. I sat in a chair and lifted my legs up so that my mum could help me into them and then she ordered me to practice just walking around the room. Bear in mind that I still hadn't seen myself. When I made this point, she told me to go upstairs in my heels and look in her mirror while she waits for my prom date at the door.

I looked gorgeous, I looked so strange but it was probably the best I had ever looked up to that point. I went back downstairs slowly, gripping the banister with my life and told mum that I was so embarrassed and that this was cruel. I moaned that I looked like a Disney princess. My mum just smiled and said 'that will teach you, now just wait for your date. Let's get a few photos. You know what proms are like for Facebook likes.' I protested that she couldn't put me online but she just laughed as she captured picture after picture. She was even asking for poses and had just got me to do a kissy face with one hand on my hip and the other out showing my nails to the camera when there was a knock at the door. Oh my, I actually did have a date, someone else was going to see me like this.

Turns out that my date was one of my best friends. He wore a full suit with a blue tie, doing that whole cute and horribly romantic thing of matching his date's dress colour. Mum insisted on getting pictures of the happy couple and once she was satisfied that he had hugged me in enough photos, she decided that there should be one when he pecks my cheek. I managed to survive that one, the weirdest part possibly being how happy he was to do it. She then ordered me to kiss his cheek which totally made my stomach turn as I did it. She snapped the photo and we were finally able to go off to prom and get this night of hell over with.

We got in his car and set off for the prom. He was driving so that I could have a drink. While this was a very kind gesture, I was not one of those people who usually likes alcohol. Then again, I was not usually someone who wears dresses or goes by a false name or kisses boys. But on this night and at the age of 17, I was feeling very different and insecure. The whole plan of his fell down when I reminded him that I wasn't allowed to drink alcohol yet, which he laughed at.

He then strangely started asking about the reasons I was 'Alicia' tonight. I just told him that I lost a bet which earned me the corny reply of 'you look like a winner to me.' It was a cute attempt, but it more made me want to slap my date than kiss him so you could say it had little effect. All his talk about my cuteness felt so wrong, even though he was being a total gentleman to me.

This evidence continued as we pulled up outside the venue and he got out first to open my door for me. I mean, he'd clearly rehearsed this whole routine. He was even strong enough to give me a little lift out of my seat, forcing me to let out a tiny effeminate scream as it was so unexpected. He let my heels find the floor and pecked my forehead once I was out while I just held on to him for support. He offered me his hand and at this point, I was just going with the flow. I took his hand in mine, gripped it tight, and we made our way into the building.