I don't know if this incident was a precursor of things to come. When I was in kindergarten my teacher called the cowboy shirt I had on a blouse. I emphatically told her it was a shirt. At that time I had no desires for any feminine or girlie. I thought I was just correcting my teacher, but, I still remember my expressive manner was forceful. I still don't ascribe any significance to it. My first interest in feminine garments, and, I cannot put an age to it, was my mother's nylon full slips. She hanged the wash to dry on a clothesline strung down the hallway from the livingroom area to the bedrooms. The manner in which the wash was hanged sort of made it like running a gauntlet of wet wash. I was young enough to remember my head did not go above the hanging clothes. I found the feel of the nylon slips to be enticing. The cloth was like nothing I wore; cotton, denim, flannels. I would linger to caress the fabric. Ultimately, I had to try one on my body. I still did not have any thoughts of femininity. Was it a lure for things later?
