I entered the dancewear shop, nervous, and a little hesitant. There were several women browsing the racks of leotards and dance dresses, presumably shopping for their little girls. I walked up to the counter.
The saleswoman, whose name tag identified her as Rachel, was very fit and in her mid thirties. She had her straight dark hair pulled back. "May I help you," she said.
"Ah, yes. I need to buy a tutu."
"Is your daughter with a specific dance company? I have the list to tell me which one she needs," she explained.
"Well, you see, the tutu isn't for my daughter. It's for me."
Her jaw dropped just a little bit. "Well, I don't understand," she said, "what are you looking for? Are you in a comedy production?"
"No, I just like to wear tutus," I said.
She took a breath, and then said, "Well, do you want a romantic or a classical tutu?"
"I don't know," I said, "What's the difference?"
"The romantic is like the long skirts worn in Giselle. The classical is the straighter, shorter style worn by ballerinas in productions like Swan Lake."
"Like the ones in Swan Lake, I guess," I said.
"Okay," she said, "I have one or two in stock that may fit you. They are size adult large." She brought out the tutus, one pink and one white. "Do you have a preference in color?"
"Which one do you think will match my tights?" I asked her, pulling up my pant leg to reveal the shiny pink Capezio tights I was wearing.
Raising an eyebrow, she said, "Pink it is." In a very business-like manner, she took the pink tutu off the hanger and brought it over to the counter to ring it up.
"How do I know it's going to fit?" I asked.
"Believe me, I think this one will fit you."
"I don't know... the leotard part looks like it might be a bit small."
"It will stretch," she said.
"I don't know, I think I should try it on," I said.
Severely raising an eyebrow and frowning, she said, "Fine, take this and go in the dressing room back here. Please don't damage the garment."
I took the tutu and went into the dressing room. I slid off my shirt and pants to reveal my shiny pink tights. I slid the leotard part of the tutu over my body. She was right-it fit. The stiff tulle tutu just about filled up the small space of the dressing room. The velvet of the leotard tickled my skin.
I walked out of the dressing room, in pink tutu and tights. One of the women shopping took notice, and nudged another one. Rachel looked up from the counter, frowning.
"You were right, it fits fine," I told her. "Do I look pretty?"
She just shook her head. The other women in the store laughed.
"I think I'll wear it out of the store," I said, moving back to the dressing room to get my other clothes and wallet. By now, I had the whole store for an audience.
Once I had paid for the tutu, I left the dancewear store and walked out onto the sidewalk. I saw several people pointing and snickering as I made my way to the car in the parking lot.
"Well, how did it go? Did you show her your tights?" she asked. Mistress always wants to know how it went!
Sissy Mission accomplished... almost.
Mistress was in a good mood today. "Next stop, IHOP. They should have their lunch buffet about now..."