I remember my older sister's school uniform, the white fitted blouse, the above knee box-pleated black skirt, the chunky heeled loafers and the popular options of black opaque tights, skin colour tights, or below knee white socks with the heart pattern, or ankle socks that were barely visible. Oh and in the younger years there was the blue or pink checked summer dress which looked like it had made out of table sheets.

My first memory of crossdressing was finding my sister's school skirt and black tights in the washing basket. At the time I hadn't yet discovered masturbation and the feeling of sexual excitement was mystical and facinating. Yet even when finishing off the ensemble with the heeled schoolshoes, blouse and blazer, dancing and imitating the most feminine of movements, there was never a climax. I could have stayed dressed like that forever as I was extremely turned on and had no outlet.

I envied my sister for being able to wear such a feminine outfit. It was I who deserved to wear the outfit, or at least wear one aswell. I was privately an extremely feminine boy and was very self conscious about my thin body, my black curtained hair which was on the verge of a bob. I also had to keep my mannerisms in check, as I naturally would move like a self conscious girl. I was ashamed of my femininity, yet at night I constantly dreamt that my hair grew down to my lower back, that i'd get to tie a ribbon into it and show it off to the girls at school. When I saw Cinderella I identified with her and her femininity. I was UTTLERY mesmesized by her dress and fantasized about wearing it and being treated like a princess. Also another recurrence was that I dreamt of being Alice in Wonderland and awoke dissapointed that I no longer possessed the beautiful dress.

School should have been different. I fit were up to me... in a sort of warped fascistic fantasy, school would not be devided into "males and females", but rather by "masculine and feminine". If you were thin and had a pretty look about you, you were deemed not masculine enough for the boys uniform and be banned from masculine behaviour, wearing trousers on school premises for the year. You would be expected to grow your hair long and participate in ballet, dance and cheerleading in physical education. All feminine students would have regualr beauty classes, makeup, hairdressing, nailcare, aswell as training for feminine posture, walking and general movement. They will be conditioned to internalize femininity and sexual attraction to mascullinity. Even overweight girls would deemed too masculine for the feminine role. Once deemed masculine or feminine, the roles would be encouraged and enforced. Attraction to males is feminine, a playground insult the feminine side would want to avoid is being called a lesbian, from which a feminine person would always try to project an attraction to males.

In my school years I would have failed to achieve masculinity every time. 

If I had a classic authoritative, disciplinary, yet colourful nanny when I was a child. I like to imagine the ways in which she could have feminized me. One in particular involves her catching me playing with my sisters Barbie. She calls my sister into the room and gets us both to strip. We both takes turns to wash and when we return our school uniforms are set into two piles; my school uniform and my sister's. Our nan says, "If you are to act like a girl you will dress like one. You have a chance to prove your masculinity to me by five challenges against a feminine counterpart in your sister. For each masculine challenge you win, you will retain an item of your masculine clothes." The first challenge is an arm wrestle. I am shocked by my sister's strengh, she is only a couple of months older than me and is in total control as she ends the contest in her own time. With a smile on her face she cllaims my boxers, whilst I put on her bra and knickers. They are white with a pink pattern along the edges and a bow at the front. Next is a race along the length of the garden twice. She is just too quick. She claims my rugged black socks whilst I put on her soft opaque black tights. We are then presented with a plug power socket, a fuse and a screwdriver each and are challenged to see who can change a fuse quickest. I lose again, so my sister gets my shirt and I get her blouse which has a pink pattern around the collar and cuffs. Next challenge is a pentaly shootout in the garden, where its the best out of five. I lose again and am horrified to she her pull on my trousers and stand with a triumphant masculine pose, as I step into her black pleated skirt. The last challenge is a wrestling match. A circle is drawn and we enter into it. We grab eachother and go back and forth. My hairband comes loose and falls off. Both mine and my sister's hair are quite long, and my hair falls in front of my face, whilst hers is still comfrotably places behind her ears. I am lifted off my feet and her forearms dragged my skirt up from both sides and with a free hand try feebly to cover myself. I scream as my hair is pulled and am tripped over, falling outside of the circle. My sister claims my bulky masculine shoes, whilst I slip into her Kickers shoes with a high chunky heel. Our nanny passes my sister my hairband, so her hair is tied back and mine is left out, playing to the wind and my movements. Our nanny states, these are our new uniforms and that my sister now has sole usage of the games consoles whilst I am reduced to playing exclusively with her Barbie dolls. I get angry and try to grab and pull the trousers off my sister's legs, but she easily pulls mu arms off and then quickly responds by pulling my skirt up. I scream and try in vein to force it back down, but she is too strong. She and my nanny start laughing as I start crying.

Another idea being that on my first day attending a new school, I am sized up for my uniform. (Supposing this school produces its own uniforms on the site). I am told to head into the next room where a lady then emerges with a list of my measurements and a few parcels. She tells me to go into one of the changing rooms to get changed. To my embarassment I see that it is a girl's uniform and then sheepishly go to talk to the women. Although I admit that I am a "little" feminine looking, I have long pretty, glossy hair, a pretty face, a think delicate, body and hyperfeminine mannerisms... The women simply do not believe that I am a boy and threaten me with expulsion if I do not stop with this rediculous little joke. So I find myself in the girls school uniform, aswell as having two extra sets of the same outfit and a summer gingham dress. No one at school believes I am a boy, so I slow give up in protesting and start to become accustomed to being referred to as a girl.