Mom dressed me in my sister's clothes when I was a toddler. Supposedly to keep me from ruining my 'good boy clothes'. But her decision to let my hair grow out was probably not out of that interest, as we had enough money for lots of other things, just not for me. She's use all sorts of excuses; the line at the barber was too long, or we'd miss our bus if we stayed and got my hair cut. By the time I was in grade school my dad had tried to take over taking me to the barber shop but he worked so much, every day and saturdays too, that it wasn't unusual for me to to wind up with a sort of 'dutch boy' haircut (the picture on the paint can), easily getting me mistaken for a girl a lot.