Showing posts with label Thrift Stores. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thrift Stores. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 2, 2024

Margie; Second Hand Princess

Margie; Second Hand Princess

I had just recently moved to Scottsdale, Arizona as a result of my mother’s death. My only living relative was going to allow me to stay with her for a couple of years, since there was no one else. Up to recently my Mom and I were living just outside of Amarillo, Texas on a small farm that my Dad used to operate. He got killed several years ago when his tractor overturned as he drove it along a small stream next to one of his fields. He was caught under one of the wheels when it rolled over and he was squashed.

Mom didn’t know anything about farming so she leased out the land to a neighboring farmer. Her claim to fame was running a bar near downtown. She watched over things, bar tended when necessary, and generally saw to the operation of the place. She had started with the owner when she left high school, and had worked her way up to the manager’s job.

Three weeks ago, two men tried to rob the bar, holding one of the waitress’s hostage as they emptied the register. They found very little money, which pissed them off. They threw one of the waitresses against the bar hard, her screaming just further aggravating them. Mom rushed to help the waitress, and was shot in the chest. She comforted the waitress, even though she, herself, was bleeding. The sirens were close and the two would be robbers ran out the front door. When the police and ambulance arrived they went right to Mom, she insisted they help Sonia first, then and only then would she allow them to help her.

It was touch and go for almost a week before Mom lost the battle. I was at the hospital as much as they would allow, staying at a neighbor’s house in between. When Mom died I was in her room, holding her hand as tight as I could. I don’t know how long I was there, I knew when they removed her from the room, but I had no place to go and nobody left. I remember someone helping me into bed, then exhaustion. Sometime later a female came into the room, and grabbed my hand. She looked familiar, but in my current condition, I couldn’t put a name to her face.

“I am Peggy, your mother’s sister and I have come to take care of you.” Everything I had been holding back for days all came rushing out, the tears and sobbing soaking my shirt. She held me, comforting me as much as she could. Finally she laid me back on the bed, laid beside me and ran her fingers through my hair. I sobbed some more, that simple act is what Mom often did for me, when I was distressed or worried. I apparently fell asleep, for I remember nothing else until the next morning.

That morning Peggy took me home. As I moped around the house she took care of the funeral arrangements, then went through the house with me to see what I might want, also what might be of use to her. I really didn’t want to move, but there were too many memories here. The funeral was small, the way Mom wanted it, only a few friends and some of the people where she worked. We received word from the gal that Mom had saved that she was going to fully recover, something Mom would have been thrilled about.

Peggy arranged with the school for me to take my finals early, since she had to get back to her business, and couldn’t wait the three weeks that were left of school. I passed all of them easily and we began packing everything up. Since Peggy owned and operated a thrift type store, everything made the trip. Some things were marked for her house, the other items for the store.

The moving van gathered everything up, and we handed over the keys to a local real estate office that would rent the place out and see to any maintenance problems if necessary. Our flight out to Phoenix, the nearest city with an airport, left later that day, arriving around seven P.M. local time. Peggy’s car was still in long term parking, so after a short shuttle ride we were heading to her house.

I was certainly surprised when we pulled up in front a gorgeous ranch house that looked bigger than three of our older house. It was situated on a couple of acres of land on the far northern edge of Scottsdale. Although the acreage around her house was planted in native plants, I could see no cactus or other desert looking items in her landscape. It was natural looking, the architecture of the house blending in with the adjacent scenery. The sun was setting on the western horizon, the reds and oranges of an Arizona sunset quite spectacular.

She showed me my room, told me I could fix it up anyway I wanted, since the room was currently obviously for a female, the curtains and the light apple green color a dead giveaway. I placed my bag in the closet and asked if I could walk around a little outside. She flicked on some lights, the outdoors lighting up quickly. Nothing harsh and bright, all subdued lighting, although enough to see where you were going. The shadows and illuminated shrubbery made for a pleasant sight, the last colors of the sunset fading away gently in the western sky.

I followed a trail heading to a small Gazebo that looked inviting. It was pretty here, but all new, me missing my Mom the hardest to take. I set in the gazebo for several hours watching the stars twinkling in the night sky and the shooting stars streaking across the night sky. Peggy walked up to the gazebo and asked if she could sit with me. I moved over and she sat next to me. Nothing was said for a while, just two people looking at the stars.

“Are you going to be alright? I know losing you Mom has hurt you, but she wouldn’t wanting you moping around. Life is too short for that. Why don’t you come inside with me, we can have some hot chocolate and then turn in. Tomorrow is another day and we will face it together, just you and me.”

We walked hand in hand to the house, the hot chocolate she made was very good, making things seem a little better. We both found our bedrooms, in mine I was soon asleep, never even remembering where I was spending the night. The next morning, however, I did realize where I was, a huge sigh escaped, thinking of what I would never get a chance to experience again, my mother’s love. I did the bathroom thing, then wandered to the kitchen.

Peggy was making breakfast, fresh squeezed orange juice and sausage biscuits. I was hungry, quickly finishing off the plate of them. Peggy smiled. “At least, you still have your appetite.” She suggested that I accompany her to the store, something for me to do, to keep my mind off the obvious. I dressed in some jeans and a hoodie, then waited until she was ready. Her store was quite a few miles away, in the nearby town of Tempe, home of Arizona State University. The university one of the largest in Arizona, home of sixty thousand plus students. A lot of her customers were college kids, buying secondhand items to help make Daddy’s money last for the four years of college.

As she opened up the store I looked around to see what all she had in the store. The store was much bigger than the small storefront implied. It ran back almost three hundred feet from the front door. There were numerous skylights making the store look bright and cheery. After a brief glance around, I concluded that you could find almost anything you wanted here.

Her racks of clothes were most impressive, everything from evening gowns to bathing suits. A lot of the clothes looked brand new, most likely bought, then for some reason never worn, when the pile got big enough donate them to the thrift store to be rid of them. I even saw a few of them with the original sales tag still on the item.

I found myself looking through some of the skirts, taking each one and evaluating it against some unknown standards. I didn’t hear Peggy come up behind me, so I was surprised when she asked if I found anything that I just had to have.

I blushed bright red, wondering how I was going to explain looking at the skirts. I have never seen a male look at skirts in a store unless his wife is very near. I had been looking at the rack of skirts for quite some time, even separating out a few that looked good to me. Peggy looked through what I had separated from the rest, then pulled them off the rack and handed them to me. The changing room is through the curtains, use the one toward the back, that one is reserved for us. Let me know if you need help with a zipper or buttons. I looked at her with my mouth open, she just pushed me toward the back and returned to what she was doing.

I walked along slowly trying to think what to do. I should turn around and return them to the rack, I am not even sure why I picked them out. By the time I had finished that thought I was at the door to the changing room. Oh well, the damage has already been done, might as well try them on. I slipped off my jeans and shoes trying on the first skirt. Surprisingly, I had selected ones that looked like they would fit me, heck I didn’t even know what female size I would take. It was a pencil skirt, tan in color and reaching about half way down my thigh. It fit snug, but was quite comfortable.

Suddenly the door opened and Peggy took a look at me, I was trying to turn away from her. Not sure what that might accomplish, since she had already seen me in the skirt. She placed her arms on my shoulders and turned me back around. I looked down at the floor, my eyes trying to avoid her stare. She lifted my chin up and smiled. “It looks good on you, and I have the perfect pair of brown patent leather heels to match it. You wear a size eight don’t you?”

I couldn’t believe her reaction, but my mind had already freaked out and I started sobbing. She held me closely, not saying anything, just holding me and comforting me. “Everything will be alright, the skirt looks good on you, but the longer I hold you the longer you have to wait for the cute heels that I have to go with it.” I tried to stop crying, taking short breaths and rubbing my eyes. I finally managed to stop and she left me for a minute, returning with a cute pair of heels, just as she had described.

I slipped them on, the four inch heel height taking a few minutes to get accustomed to. Then the red color of my cheeks came back into play. I had tried on the heels without even thinking, now dressed in the skirt and heels, not a normal look for a young male. I should get out of them quickly, but instead turned to look in the mirror again to see how I looked. I had never tried on female’s clothes in the past, I was not sure why I did it today.

I am approaching my eighteenth birthday, old enough to know better, but the happenings of the last week had affected me more than I could stand. I would never be able to share things with my Mom again, that camaraderie gone forever. Peggy is alright, she seems to care about me, has bent over backwards to welcome me into her home and life. That helps a lot, but the big bottomless pit is still there, probably never to be filled again.

I was still in the changing room, still in the heels and skirt. I am not sure why, I liked the outfit, but why a male is wearing it escapes me. From the waist down I look like a female, but the top is still quite masculine. Peggy opens the door again handing me a stack of clothing. I take it but stare at it, she giggles, “to try them on you have to take off your male clothes and place these items on your body. I will help you with the bra, so let’s get that hoodie off of you.” It is slipped over my head and she slips my arms through the straps of a bra. She reaches behind me and fastens the clasps, then adjusts the shoulder straps.

A blouse follows, a light brown color with lace trim in the same color as the skirt. A smile appears on my face, looking at the image I see in the mirror. Peggy again enters the changing room telling me to remove my shorts and put on the panties. Once my shorts are removed she takes them and my other male clothes and leaves. It takes me a minute or two to realize what she has done, quickly I leave the changing room and try to find her.

She is the backroom, preparing some other clothes so they can be added to the racks on the floor. When I show up, she hands me a hair brush, telling me to move my ponytail higher on my head and then to put on some lipstick, on the counter in the changing room. I stand there, she can’t be serious, but she continues working on the new additions to the store. I decide to humor her, I can’t see where she has put my clothes, the ones I have on at least covering me up. I return to the changing room brush my hair a little higher and redo the ponytail. The lipstick is there so I apply a coat to my lips and go back to find Peggy.

As I walk up she looks at me up and down, then pushes a rack of clothes toward me. “Put these on the floor, in the appropriate areas, picking out any good looking combinations and put them on the mannequins. When you get a customer call me and I will show you how to run the register.” I stood there staring at her, surely she can’t be serious, I am dressed as a female, I am sure the first customer I meet will scream and run from the store.

“You have work to do young lady, so let’s get to it. I am not paying you to look in the mirror all day.” I sense a Twilight Zone moment, but my mind is already checked out, so I push the rack to the floor and start adding the clothes to the racks. I decide to keep colors together, grouping them in basic color shades, also separating them by types of skirts or blouses. After a few minutes I also sort them by size, making it much easier for a customer to find what they want.

Yes, I am obsessive about organizing things, often doing it at our house causing Mom to throw up her hands since she couldn’t find anything. As I add the clothes to the display racks I find a few more items that I like and keep them together at the end of the rack.

A half hour later a couple of women come into the shop, looked around some and ask where the skirts are. I show them the rack they are on since I had been shopping on it most of the morning. I was surprised they didn’t run, instead they asked if I knew if there was some A line skirts there in a light blue. I squeezed in between them and grabbed the four items that might meet their requirements. As I handed them to the lady that asked, I told her the changing room is in the back if she wanted to try them on. The two ladies took the items and went to the back.

Ten minutes later they returned, telling me they would take three of them and handing the items to me. I placed them on a bar near the register and returned to my work. They were still looking around, now in the section of blouses. Peggy had a lot of blouses occupying at least six of her display racks. The same lady introduced herself and asked me for some advice on what blouses would go with each skirt.

I tried to be professional, but my interaction with a customer was scaring me to death. Peggy watched from a distance, but never volunteered to help, although I did see a smile or two as I was being observed. I went through the racks I had sorted and found several selections that would go well with the skirts she had selected. After handing them over to her, she went to try them on, coming back a little while later with her selections. I showed her a purse that would tie in nicely and they bought that too.

When they approached the register Peggy came up and showed me how to ring up the sale. I collected the money, gave the customer her correct change and quietly went back to work. Peggy never said much, but I caught her observing me quite often that day. I ended up waiting on several more customers that day, at one point both Peggy and I had customers that we were waiting on. The customers I was able to observe seemed to be shopping at the areas that I had sorted as to types, sizes and colors. Peggy even left me alone for a while as she went to get some lunch, the customer I was waiting on was no problem as I rang her up.

When she returned with lunch we set at a table in her small office and nibbled on the salads that she had obtained. The broiled chicken on the salads was especially good. After cleaning up she told me that it was settled, I would be working at the store for the foreseeable future. I let a huge smile appear on my face, this is something I liked to do, and apparently I was fairly good at it. It was on the way home that she let the other part of the deal slip out. I would be working at the store as a female, my interaction with the female customers today so normal, like I had been doing it most of my life.

I presume that is why I was allowed to pick some blouses today to go with the skirts I had picked out earlier. She stopped on the way home, dashing into one of the large super stores buying me panties, a bra, and some camis to go with my other clothing I had selected. So one day with her and I had started dressing as a female and acting like one. Quite a change from my past life as a male and son to my mother.

When we got home I expected to go to my room and wait for dinner. That decision was changed for me quickly as she told me that since I was female now I could help prepare dinner and also clean up afterwards. My expression was classic, mouth open, eyes wide and even a stutter every now and then. It was said seriously, but soon she was giggling and shortly I joined her in the giggling fest. I did help prepare supper, making a salad for us and making some soup from a mix. Peggy set the table and advised me in the meals preparation, for her part in this deal.

After we had consumed our meal, I took the dishes to the sink and washed them that I knew how to do well. “Hang all you things in the closet, your underwear in the top drawer of the dresser. Usually I wash all the things from the thrift store for my own personal use, if they are clean when I get them at the store they don’t get washed there, only the ones that come in dirty or smelly. There have been occurrences of bed bugs, and other assorted insects every once in a while. Each day we will find you some new clothes, I can’t have my help looking poorly.”

I smiled before I caught myself, I am sure Peggy caught the smile, knowing that I liked the clothes is one thing, that I wanted to wear them all the time another. I made my way to the bedroom, taking time to inspect them before I hung them. I noticed a button on one of the skirts that was loose, I would have to ask Peggy how to repair it. I laid out my choices for tomorrow, something my mother used to do. As I did so a tear gently ran down my cheek, I miss her so much.

When I turned around to head to the living room Peggy is standing in the door, smiling at me. She holds out her arms and I quickly close the distance and melt into her embrace. It was almost as good as being hugged by Mom. We stayed in the embrace for quite some time, I for one, didn’t want the moment to end. I lowered my head to her shoulder, a tear or two sliding out of my moist eyes. When we finally broke the hug, I was dragged to the laundry room where the earlier choices that we deemed necessary to be cleaned were in a pile on the washing machine.

She showed me how to properly set the machine and load the clothes, which detergent to use and the appropriate fabric softener. When the machine was started we headed to the den to sit and talk. She asked a lot of questions, mostly about what I liked and disliked about what I had been doing the last day or two.

“Do you want to continue in the female role and work at the store or is there something else you would prefer to be doing? I want a truthful answer, there is going to be no judgment by me of what you decide. I have my ideas on the subject and I have indicated my choice. But this is your life, so your happiness needs to be considered. Too many people listen to others, do what others want them too, ending up living their life in the most miserable way possible. So now the ball is in your court, think it over and let me know, the decision is not one to be taken lightly, it will affect you for years to come and in many different ways.”

I set there in silence for a while, I had decided the first twenty minutes I was in her store, but was it a hasty decision or what I really wanted. I got up and moved next to her on the couch, leaned in where I could lean on her and told her that I wanted to be a female, the whole deal, clothes, body, and personality if she would help me I would be most grateful. Before she could say anything I replied for the rest of my life. She turned towards me hugging me, and we stayed in the hug until the buzzer on the washing machine told us the load was done. I felt safe in her arms, the closeness comforting just as if I was being hugged and comforted by my Mom.

Maybe that was part of the fascination with the female clothes, a way to remember my Mom. That day I often thought of her, of the things we used to do together, of the quiet days watching TV or working on a jigsaw puzzle. Being on a farm, I was kind of isolated, no one close to interact with. Other males usually were volunteered to help their fathers in farming, no time to hang around and do things with others their same age.

Mom’s evenings were committed to the bar, their busiest time. Since it was closed on Sunday that was her one and only day off. I would spend time on my studies, surf the internet, or just daydream of a life that would probably never happen. Mom and I talked often, of what she would like to do in her life, of what I might like to do, but we knew that it was just a dream. Money would never allow anything other than what we had now. There would not be enough money for me to go to college, high school would have to be the pinnacle of my education.

She had tried to sell the farm once or twice, but the land was only barely farmable, so the offers were not there. The lease money on the land paid the taxes, plus allowed her enough to maintain the house and make needed repairs on appliances when needed. Now Peggy would receive the rent on the house and the farm land, to help in offsetting expenses my presence would cause.

My dressing never received much comment after the first few days, I learned what I needed to portray the female better and did it without thinking. There were a couple of comical disasters, but all in all it went smoothly. At work I just took over the female clothing section, I saw to it that the clothes were cleaned when received, hung properly and hung by kind and color. Three weeks into by new duties she handed me her car keys.

I gave her a funny look, then waited for a further explanation. “Here is some money, go to these addresses, there you will find our competition. Go through their clothes looking for items that would sell here at a higher price after they are displayed properly. Buy small amounts, never mentioning that you are re-selling these items. If there are lots of good choices mark it down and go back the next day. Wear a scarf over your head if possible, they do come into our store quite often and I don’t want them figuring out what we are doing, especially if they recognize you. Now scoot and on the way back pick us up some lunch.” She put the money in my hand, a scarf and hugged and kissed me then slapped my butt. I headed for the register to get my purse rubbing my butt and looking over my shoulder giggling.

I did make it to the other stores, finding quite a few items that would warrant buying them. Lunch was fried chicken, with cole slaw and french fries. It was good, both of us quickly devouring the items, nothing but the bag left when we finished. I processed the clothes and a little before five I managed to get them hung and on the sales floor. We had several last minute shoppers, some coeds from the university. It seems my tastes in clothing was exactly what they were looking for since all but one of the items I had bought were selected, tried on and purchased. Peggy was all smiles as they left, well tomorrow you head out again, since there is nothing left here to indicate you have done anything today besides look pretty and ring up a few sales.

I got hugged, now something I was looking forward to. The next day I was sent out even earlier, her wanting to be sure that I got first pick on the goodies at the other stores. Today’s disguise was a blond wig, the length reaching most of the way down my back. Again a swat to get me moving, I was still looking at my image in the mirror when my bottom received its motivation to get going. I did better today finding a lot of goodies, some at each of the different thrift stores I visited. I got some of the items processed, but did not have time to get them all to the floor. As we were leaving the store after she had locked up, she looked at the bag I was clutching to my bust. Nothing was said, but I knew that once we were home I would have to reveal its contents. Tonight we stopped for some take out, Chinese in kind and so mouth watering good. I had tried some as she finished driving home, my moans of pleasure making Peggy giggle all the more.

Once home we set the table and I got to finish sampling the goodies, ending up with seven empty containers of Chinese food and two overly stuffed females. I presume I had been assimilated during my time with her, each day my dressing as a female became more natural and automatic. She did nothing to encourage me, watching as I learned new things and perfected my makeup skills and how I coordinated my clothing. I never got asked what was in my bag, but the next day I showed up for breakfast in a flowery sun dress, the smile on my face saying it all. Peggy just grinned suggesting that the dress should sell for at least ten dollars and staring at me. I did the typical daughter thing, stuck out my tongue then ran and hugged her, purchase price handled.

It was bright and early on a Monday morning as I was getting ready to head out and look for more clothing to purchase when she stopped me and handed me a piece of paper with an address on it. At the top was my appointment time and Turnabout Special highlighted. Another swat on my butt, and I was out the door. Recently I had been looking forward to the swat most mornings, a Mother’s gesture to her daughter to get moving. Yes, Peggy was special to me, so like my Mother and so caring.

I made the trip to the other side of town, actually to the outskirts of Phoenix. The place was huge, its parking lot filled to capacity. I did find a spot as one of the ladies exiting from the salon was leaving. I had stared at her, a most beautiful lady although very tall and well built.

I mean that in more than one way. I found my way in and told them I had an appointment, the gal handling reception took one look at me then summoned another lady from the back. I was led off while I tried to keep track of what was going on in the salon. My mind was still trying to put together the bits of information my eyes had processed, but no conclusions were possible yet.

I was told what was scheduled for me and then asked to sign the permission slips authorizing the treatments. I had read what was stated on the slips and listened to her when she told me what I would experience. My mind was mush though, I felt like I wanted to experience everything, but knew deep down that a male would never allow any of these things to happen. I thought of the last few weeks, of Peggy and what she had me doing for the store. Then I thought of how I felt everyday after getting dressed in my feminine finery, yep there is no male left, just Margie, a name I had started associating with me, then signed the slips and laid back to enjoy a further step in my transition to the female persona.

I was pampered and treated. Each step erasing some of the male that was still visible in my image. Oh I passed most of the time, but upon a closer scrutiny there were a few male characteristics left and several female things that I did not possess. Well today’s treatments handled those and added a few more. My body hair was done away with, a cream melting what little hair I had on my thin frame, eyebrows included. Breast forms were added and my male thingy hid behind a beautiful vagina for the duration. Pierced ears, with two pair of earrings in each ear. They gave me several makeup lessons, I had being using mascara and lipstick, but using the wide array of cosmetics that I had now made such a difference in my appearance.

Then they moved to my hair. Since my hair was dyed blonde, I figured the blond wig I wore on occasion would match perfectly now. My hair was to my shoulders, the feminine cut they gave me along with the curls courtesy of some curlers and thirty minutes under a dryer just made me look that much better. I almost squealed when I saw my image in the mirror, I looked perfect now, a cute female dressed just like a college coed. I was pronounced finished and they took my picture handing me a new license with my current picture on it, a courtesy of the salon. As far as the state was concerned I was still a male on the records but now allowed to drive since I was portraying a female 24/7. I gave everyone that helped in changing my looks great big hugs and literally bounced out of the salon.

Of course, I had to show Peggy, her new daughter now looking so good and totally wound up. I ran up to her in the store, almost knocking her down. I did a twirl and kissed her hard, whispering thank you many times. Then had to run to the full length mirror we kept up near the registers to look at my image again. Peggy giggling away at my antics. We had several customers come in then and I skipped over to help them, bubbly and about to burst with enthusiasm. The rest of the afternoon was the same, busier than normal and me constantly trying to get glimpses of my new image. I did not miss looking at my image in every mirror I passed.

By dinner time I had calmed down some, a fact that Peggy was thankful for. I shooed her out of the kitchen when we got home, wanting to make her dinner as partial thanks for her treating me to the makeover. I made a meat loaf with roasted potatoes on the side, about the limit of my culinary abilities, but the way Peggy consumed her share and part of mine I must have done alright.

The next day at the store I was ushered out a few minutes after we arrived, Peggy telling me that she had sold almost everything I had purchased, and then some. So I spent the next four hours shopping for more goodies, finding quite a few nice things. We stayed late that night getting the new purchases laundered and hung, then out to the sales floor. We had ordered a pizza to be delivered as we ate and worked. At nearly ten we headed home and soon collapsed on our beds.

The next day we did make it into work but was thirty minutes late. We had a line at the door, several ladies looking at their watches. They were not upset, just anxious to do some shopping. By early afternoon we had sold almost everything I had purchased yesterday, including a couple of items I would have liked to abscond with. The next day as I was getting ready to head out Peggy stopped me, wanting me to stay and watch the shop while she ran a few errands. It was almost five when she returned, a huge smile on her face.

She helped me close up and then we went out to dinner, an actual restaurant instead of getting takeout. After we ate she told me that I would no longer be required to go out and shop, my look of desperation causing her to bust into laughter. It turns out she had met with each of her competitors arranging for her to buy their female clothes at a set price, to be delivered to her store once a week. That would save them from having to clean the purchases and price them, a job they would be more than happy to pass on. They had always wanted to steer toward the furniture end of it along with accessories for decorating the home. Now they had the space and money to do that. The one competitor that was not into furniture decided to do what we were doing, but specializing in male clothing, a win win for everybody.

Peggy had always called me her princess, a nickname Mom used to use for me, maybe she saw the feminine in me long ago. I did smile every time she called me that, for what reason I am not sure. Well I am apparently a princess now, a second hand princess of female clothing. I hope I never get to be anything else.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Claudia; Fashions And Friends

Claudia; Fashions And Friends

I started and developed my own business, a project very few people have had any luck with. It took more than a couple of years to get it off the ground and eventually profitable, but with perseverance and lots of will power I was able to succeed in the long run. My solution as to what to do to make that possible was to buy older clothes, that were being routinely disposed of at thrift stores and charity shops and remake them into current fashions. I started with male clothes. But found that was not my magical key to success. Men’s fashions do not change that much, so even if the garment was changed from the original design, it still looked somewhat out dated. However, female fashions were a totally different story. Take a full skirt and change the waistband, then re-cut it to a pencil style skirt after shortening the hem and the once disposable skirt, now a fashion desirable. The main advantage in using older clothes is the fabrics available back then were much higher quality then those in use today.

It took the gals that I hired a few days to catch on to what I wanted, but they were soon evaluating the incoming goods and turning it into modern fashionable designs that were sought after and desired by the bargain conscious female shopper. I purchased a warehouse, where the ladies could perform the work. Then stuck my neck out and bought new sewing machines and laundry equipment for the ladies to use. The warehouse was fair sized, but was kind of out of the way, hence the selling price was reasonable. It had a lot of skylights, so additional lighting was not necessary for the ladies to do the work, other than what was on the sewing machines.

At first, I only had a corner of the building I had purchased for the sale of the garments. As we produced more unique garments and word of mouth spread I decided to open a stand alone store specifically for selling the goodies we were producing. It took about two weeks for our customers to find the new store, since I was doing all of this without advertising what we were doing. Let’s face it money was tight, with the wages I was paying, two payments on property I was purchasing, and now more help to run the store.

Things progressed so at the end of the sixth month we now had five stores and word of mouth was spreading about what we offered and our reasonable prices. I now have two females out doing the buying, shopping all of the thrift stores within a hundred miles looking for goods we could redo. I had done the initial buying of clothes, but the gals did so much better at picking what could be transformed into something salable.

We had branched out to every type of female garment, including dresses, blouses, skirts, shorts and even some evening wear. In a couple of instances the places we shopped at would set aside incoming donations till we had a chance to go through them, they still got their desired price for the items but did not have to clean, hang and pay someone to sell the item.

My ladies doing the renovations on the garments now numbered fifty doing the cutting and sewing, along with twenty ladies manning the stores and selling the merchandise. The gals doing the renovations were accomplished seamstresses, taking an old garment and making it desirable, in most cases, in less than an hour. That along with the two ladies doing the purchasing left me with quite a payroll. The first year I had reasonable success with selling the goods, but paying on the properties I was buying and the initial cost of the sewing machines and laundry equipment left very little for me after payroll was deducted from the quote unquote profit. There was a light at the end of the tunnel though, as I now owned most of the equipment used in the production of the garments and had paid down considerable on the warehouse and stores I was purchasing that were used in making and selling the finished designs.

I found out from the two buyers that extra items were being added to their selections, the stores adding in things they could not sell rather than have to pay to dispose of said items. The girls had started marking their purchases with a colored plastic strip, barely visible but proof of what items they had indeed paid for. The ladies doing the cutting and sewing went through everything, if they could do something with the item it was handled whether it was a purchased item or not.

One of my first hires, a lady by the name of Florence did the sorting of each completed item, looking for the small plastic strip as she sorted the items to be sent to the stores. She quickly learned the wants of each stores clientele, sending the appropriate item to the store most likely to be able to sell that item. Things she was in doubt about were stored in the part of the warehouse where we first had set up a place to sell our products. Now that area was becoming full, but the ladies were doing such a good job in redesigning the clothes that I didn’t want to complain or in anyway make a fuss about what they chose to make out of the used clothes.

In a way we were like a big family, several of the ladies husbands drove their trucks and vans to pickup the clothes, with me paying them a fee for their efforts. One of the gals older daughters did the cleaning around the warehouse, then one day a week made a trip to each store to handle anything that needed to be done there. Every couple of weeks she would clean my apartment, I paid her a salary, her gratitude shown to me often quite visible. I was always hugged and received many cheek kisses, her little way to show me how much she appreciated the job. In fact, over the last two years most of my employees greeted me with hugs and kisses. I presume this treatment was since I did not tell them exactly what to do, just let them loose to do what they thought appropriate. I knew everybody by name and asked about their families as I made my rounds. Even though I had stopped to talk to them they never stopped sewing or working on their project.

My lease on my apartment was up for renewal in a month, the landlord seeing a way to squeeze more rent out of me, so I decided to convert the old store in the warehouse into an apartment for me. A couple of the gals husbands were contractors so Florence arranged to have them do the work, saving me quite a chunk of money. I had already seen some of their work at the stores as they remodeled a bathroom or built a service counter. Somehow, Florence made all the garments that were stored in the unused store disappear and the work began, I had told them what I desired, but left it up to them how it would be completed. I was forbidden to look at the work being done, Florence said it would be a nicer surprise when the job was completed. Eight weeks later they finished their work, at only a fraction of the estimated cost.

A grand unveiling was planned for this Friday, all of the employees invited to see what had been done and whether I liked it or not. We even closed the stores early so those ladies could attend. Florence arranged for everyone to make a dish to bring to the unveiling, tables being set up in the warehouse so everyone could partake of all of the goodies. I suggested that their families be included too, that suggestion getting me more than a little heartfelt attention and thanks from the ladies.

We ate first then the apartment doors were opened and everyone toured my new abode. I had tears in my eyes as I made my way through the place, everything I had desired and so much more. There were curtains over each window, recognizing a lot of the material used, then on the beds were matching bedspreads to coordinate with the curtains. Then I took in a deep breath, realizing that the place was fully furnished, not a stitch of my old worn out furniture from the old apartment visible. The furniture was all second hand some of it from the frequently visited thrift stores, but refinished or re-upholstered as needed. I looked at Florence, who nodded and came to hug me, whispering that all of this was a gift from the girls for what I have done for them. She took hold of my arm and showed me the rest of the place, it was truly phenomenal what they had accomplished.

Florence announced the showing was over, pushing everybody out of the apartment. Once everybody but a few of the girls and her were remaining I was told that the next part of my surprise is non negotiable. Carmelita the gal who cleans my apartment and the rest of the facilities is mainly responsible for this next part. She discovered a hidden stash of clothing at your apartment, along with a wig, some cosmetics and a few other assorted sundries. Your dressing secrets have been talked about for a long time, but know we have proof of our suspicions. So we have decided this has went on long enough. She reached over to me and started unbuttoning my shirt, while one of the others undid my belt and let my pants drop to the floor. As the other gals left the apartment with a piece of my male clothing in their hands, wide spread giggling could be heard.

That left me with Florence who stepped over to one of the closets and swung the door open revealing an awesome array of feminine clothing. At the end of the closet was shelves with underwear neatly stacked on each shelf. The gals had sewn each and every piece selecting their material from all of the free goods that accompanied the items we purchased. Then I was taken by the hand to the second bedroom where an even larger closet was loaded with more feminine finery, racks of shoes lining the floor under the dresses.

On a vanity table near this closet set all of my makeup and two wigs, each on their styrofoam heads. Florence turned me so I had to look at her, you are to dress as a female now, the gals insist, nothing else is acceptable to them. I was pulled tighter to her and hugged tightly, then she suggested it was such a waste standing there nude when so many beautiful feminine clothes were available for wearing.

“The girls have one more surprise for you. Tomorrow at nine A.M. you have an appointment at the Turnabout Gurl salon to convert that male figure into something more appropriate for all of these nice clothes.”

“Once the salon learned what the girls wanted and checked into what we did, the services to correct your figure deficiencies will be no charge to you, since the salon has a favor or two they would like to trade for. In fact, they want to sell some of your items in their salon, a contract to supply them is awaiting for your perusal in your office. I don’t think you will have to worry about selling the goods in the future. Now get dressed, I am tired of looking at that male figure, we need something more colorful and feminine to grace our owner. Something to reflect her true nature in life.”

“Now get some clothes on, the gals are waiting in the warehouse to see you in your new persona, so lets not disappoint them.” I did dress in some of the gorgeous clothes they had made for me, feeling like a princess. I was literally dragged back out to the warehouse, where I spent the next three hours talking with everyone, trying to express my gratitude for all they have done for me. I was hugged tenderly by every gal, called by my new name Claudia and shown the love they had for me. It did not surprise me that not a stitch of my male clothing was ever seen again. The few male garments I was wearing that day left when the gals returned to the warehouse so I could get dressed.

The appointment the next morning took care of my figure deficiencies, Claude now permanently missing. The owner of the salon had made a point to be in town, so she could talk to me about purchasing our clothes to sell in the salons. They already handled a lot of new clothing, but wanted to set aside an area for what we made. In most cases our garments were of better quality than what they were buying new, so a much better deal for their customers. I almost had a heart attack when she mentioned she had over two hundred salons, wanting everything we could produce for her salons.

As they were working on my hair and nails I pondered what to do with the stores I now had. Francine the owner of the salons suggested I set them up as thrift stores, taking donations from the public, then sorting then to what could be worked on. All of the stores but one had no other thrift stores within miles, so we would not be endangering our relationship with ones we were already buying from. It all sounded good to me so I made a note to tell Florence my ideas and let her handle the details.

As I was leaving the salon after they finished with me, I saw my image in the mirror. No doubt any more, the feminine part of me is here to stay, something I had secretly desired for years, but couldn’t figure out a way to make it happen. My friends saw that part of me and made sure it did happen, indeed my employees are my friends, my best friends.

Over the next few weeks we made all the changes, now buying clothes from all over the state. I have seventy seamstresses working for the company now, five buyers out purchasing more goods and five company owned thrift stores. The last store has been turned into a production facility for evening wear, with ten gals there creating lots of beautiful dresses. The deal with the salons worked out perfectly, they sell our creations about as fast as we make them. We will probably have to expand again to be able to keep up with the demand.

Just like in my business, making stylish fashions from discards. Claudia is the stylish female and Claude is the discard. The best part of my job is now going through all of the new clothes picking out what I like for myself. There is an advantage to being the owner, Claudia will always be the best dressed female in town. Also the female with lots of true friends, life couldn't be any better.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca



Mitzi; At Last A Job I am nineteen and unfortunately still live with my Mom. Graduating from high school two months ago, but still hunti...