Pink Girl's Dress Code

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4

"No one knows what you have been through or what your pretty little eyes have seen, but I can reassure you ~ whatever you have conquered, it shines through your mind.” ― Nikki Rowe

I had been a Pink Girl for a month and I was happier than I could remember being in my life. I looked like myself in the mirror now, instead of a member of the male species. I found my own style that matched my personality. With a lot of help from the girls, I had found my femininity. after being raised as a boy for fifteen years, I was a little rough around the edges. Lace and leather became my signature look.

I sat in my room quietly reading the official rule book for a Pink Girl. It was called the Pink Girl’s Dress Code and it was just a small, handwritten notebook. It had everything I needed to rise to the height of my femininity. Most of the rules were basic. Other’s were more complex. It was, in all, just a list of rules and guidelines. As I finished the first half of the list, my phone rang. I smiled when I saw Mary Ann’s name. She had decided that we should all go to the mall on the other side of town and treat Daisy to a gift from her favorite store since she had just gotten over a bad flu. We all showed up at Mary Ann’s house in unintentionally coordinated outfits. We were all wearing the same color yellow but in different ways. The accident made Daisy laugh.

We took Mary Ann’s car to the mall and found an empty spot that was so close to the door, I had to double check to make sure that it wasn’t a handicap spot. The first spot we took Daisy was See’s Candy and bought her some chocolate. Then it was off to the nail salon for a pedicure. I sat next to Daisy and fought back giggles as the women worked on my feet. I had never had a pedicure and my feet were very ticklish. Daisy was clearly getting a kick out of my attempt to remain still.

“It’s worth it in the end,” said Daisy.

“Is there a way to avoid being tickled?” I asked through slightly gritted teeth.

“Well, you could do it at home,” said Daisy. “We usually do our feet once a month but we get them professionally done once a year just before spring. This is an extra treat.”

“It’s a lot of work, being a girl,” I observed.

“It can be,” said Daisy. “I think it’s worth it. It’s a good feeling, knowing you look your absolute best.”

“I do like being a girl more than a boy,” I said.

When we were done, they paid the bill and headed off to the formal dress store. I was just happy my feet were not being tickled anymore, but they did feel much softer. I liked it.

“Why are we going in here?” I asked. No one told me about a special occasion and felt temporarily left out.

“No girl is too old to play dress up,” said Mary Ann, making me feel both relieved and excited because I was never allowed to dress up and I’d always dreamed of wearing a beautiful dress like the one Belle wore in Beauty and the Beast.

“Still acting like a child, Mary Ann?” a snide voice said from behind.

All five of us turned to see another group of five girls dressed in what looked like expensive fashion trends. Each of them wore luxurious diamond necklaces around their necks. I noticed immediately the lack of individuality. They were all blonde and blue eyed and dressed in a similar style. For a second, I thought my eyes stopped working and I had to do a double take.

“Still controlling the way your mascots look, huh, Patricia?” asked Mary Ann.

“Excuse me for not wanting to be seen with garbage,” Patricia sneered, looking directly at Daisy.

“Maybe you should go home, then,” said Cory. “It would save you the embarrassment from being seen with the clones behind you.”

“Well, it looks like you found a dress-up doll,” said Patricia. “Oh, I know all about you. The girl who dressed like a boy. Never hung out with girls. Didn’t want any competition? Wanted all the boys to yourself? Bet you had fun in the locker rooms.”

“I’m warning you, Patricia,” said Carrie, as she and the others gathered closer around me. “Leave her alone.”

“Now why would I do that?” asked Patricia. “It’s a free country.”

“Just because you can say it, doesn’t mean you should,” said Mary Ann.

“I feel really bad for you,” I said. I meant it too.

“Why?” snapped Patricia. “I’m beautiful, rich, and popular. Every thing you’re not.”

I smiled sympathetically. “Your mom and dad don’t care enough about you to spend time with you, so the give you what you think you want in order to get you to leave them alone. They’re so ashamed of how ugly you are, they’re just letting you dig yourself a hole.”

My words clearly struck a nerve and she stammered a series of curse words at me. I just laughed. When it was obvious that no one was coming to her aid, she stomped off with her clones following her closely.

“How did you do that?” asked Nancy.

“I took a free phycology class at the community college in the spring,” I said. “I wanted to try and understand why my parents were in such denial that I was born a girl.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, they’re going to be surprised when they get home. Where are they now?” asked Carrie.

“They called me last night to tell me they were somewhere in India, and they’re coming home two days after I start school.”

“So four weeks then,” said Mary Ann cheerfully. “Do you need us there when they get home?”

“No, but I might need a place to crash for a while,” I said.

“Well, that’s what my house is for,” said Mary Ann.

“Thanks,” I said. “So does someone want to explain Patricia?”

“We used to be best friends in elementary school,” said Mary Ann. “When we started middle school, my mom introduced us to the Pink Girls Dress Code. She was the original Pink Lady so she was the one who created the rules. Patricia didn’t like that it said that anyone could be a Pink Girl so long as they followed the rules and she didn’t like that the rules were basic. She thought it should be exclusive and that it had to be noticeable that you were a part of a group. We got into a fight about it and she left. To be in her club, as you may have noticed, you have to be rich enough to afford real diamonds and high-end designers. Her idea of beauty is herself, that’s why her followers are blonde with blue eyes.”

“She’s not going to have much of a future if she keeps that frame of mind,” I said.

“No, she won’t,” said Daisy.

“The Pink Girl’s Dress Code is a formula to bring out your best self,” said Carrie. “Good hygiene, good grades, kind hearts, basic makeup that brings out our natural beauty, and clothes that fit our individual bodies and styles for maximum confidence. Mary Ann’s mom knew when she wrote the rules that confidence and good skills breed success.”

“Skills and confidence help you find a good job,” said Nancy.

“Good hygiene and self-care are good for your health,” said Daisy.

“Being beautiful inside and out make others want to be around you,” said Mary Ann.

“It’s a wonderful recipe,” I said with a smile.

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