Ever since I was a kid I was very thin and had the curliest hair ever more than once I was mistaken for a girl I can see why looking back, my brother was sporty, muscular where as I was lean and feminine hell I even walked like a girl (I had hip displasia andnspent time in hospital when I recovered it had left me with that gait).  Mum made clothes as a parttime job, her sewing machine and knitting tools where kept in the box room, I would often be asked to help her with this. Hand rolling yarn, helping set the stiitching and talking history, gender politics and whatever else mum wanted to discuss while she worked.

 Several of her customers would often order clothing for children as gifts more othen than not for girls although there were jumpers made for boys as well. Mum did not have a manniquin at least not at first. Generally she would take measurments and quite often I would end up posing with the clothes on as she finished the stitching and last parts of the designs. I did not protest. Quite often this meant having to take my own clothes off and stand in just my underwear while she fitted the outfits. There was nothing sexual about this I was just a tool, part of the cloth making process. She would often take me into town to buy supplies still perfectly normal at first. But things changed when my sister died mum didn't recover from that for a while. 

One day while in town she took me clothe shopping, we met up with her friends and, she bought several items of underwear, dresses, clip on earrings and other jewelry.. One day there was a laundry accident and somehow all my clothes ended up on the line at the same time, mum told me to go into the workshop and open the drawer there so I could get an item of clothing, I opened the dawer and found several pairs of panties, tights, dresses, hell there were even several pairs of shoes and a corset. I said there must be some mistake and she said it is just you and me in the house your clothes will be ready in three hours it won't hurt you to wear these for a while. They turned out to be a perfect fit I recognized some of them from the time she had taken me shopping I had hand picked my own wardrobe. I stepped out into the hall and stood before the floor length mirror mum used to check finished clothing in. What I saw looking back was no boy, my hair was long and curly, even my lips had a kind of pout I did a little swirp watching  the skirt flow around me, it felt really liberating. Mum looked at me you look just like her and started crying, I hugged her and told her it was okay. I stayed like that for the full three hours before switching back to my own clothes, it felt odd. 

Every few days there would be other accidents and out came the clothes I learn't to walk in shoes, heels are not easy but I already had the sawy. At some point it became every two days I was mums daughter we would go into town me fully dressed up,makep, earings and hairclips, we would go to the same hair salon on a Friday and get my hair done as well, a few clips here and there and then on Saturdays we'd meet up with her friends and their daughters I was often complimented on my appearance and I had practiced my voice, on these two days I was not a boy but a girl.then on Sundays I'd wash it all off and return to being me. I had taken up cycling and shaving your legs helps with wind drag it also helped with the change. This continued for around five years.