Downsized, Upsized

by Jennifer White

  

Hi, I'm Chris. I had worked for J. Bingman Department Stores for 20 years, ever since I was out of high school. I bounced around a couple of departments, but ended up in men's shoes for the past 10 years.

But with the poor economy, they were closing down several locations. We were lucky that they were keeping this store, but we were losing 15% of our staff. They were also shutting down some of the unprofitable departments. Like men's shoes.

Lucky for me, our contract said that they had to let go the 15% of employees with the least experience, and keep those of us more senior. Since I was one of the most senior people effected, I could pretty much pick any department I wanted.

I considered going back to menswear, but I didn't like it the first time around. There was jewelry, where there was the chance for high dollar sales, and a good commission check. But with the economy, that might be hit or miss.

Then I saw that they needed someone in the lingerie boutique. Now don't laugh, think about it. I was single (my wife had divorced me 10 years ago), but I loved women. This would let me work in a department where all the other people were women, and all of the customers. What better place to meet someone?

And it was an area that would be as recession proof as any; women needed bras and panties whether the economy was rolling or not. Not like jewelry where sales might plummet. Oh, and as part of the job description, you measured women's chests to help fit them for bras. I put down the Lingerie Boutique as my designated transfer department. I now worked in intimate apparel.

* * *

 

I could tell the first day at work that the women in my new apartment weren't thrilled about working with me. Dorothy was the most senior person there, followed by Judy. Anne was part time. Then there was me.

They weren't hostile, but they were cold. They helped me as little as they had to. I saw them having what seemed like a heated whispered discussion before I took my lunch break.

"Would either of you like to join me for lunch?" I asked.

"No thank you" said Dorothy icily. Judy just shook her head. So I went by myself.

 

When I returned, Dorothy had a smile on her face for the first time all day. But it was an evil smile. It felt so cold!

"I have talked with Judy about this, and with our manager. She is in total agreement."

"About what?" I said.

'Here it comes...' I thought to myself. But what she said threw me for a loop. I wasn't expecting it!

"As you know from your experience selling at this store, our customers shop here because the saleswomen are so knowledgeable about the products."

"And the salesmen" I added, but I was ignored.

"If you are to work here, then you need to have a very in depth knowledge of the products too. As you know, we sell national brands, and our own in-store brand. If a woman is looking for a bra, and asks you which is more comfortable, Olga, Bali, or Calvin Klein, which do you tell her? Or if she asks about which one is easier on your back, what do you say? How about which brands tend to run bigger or smaller? You don't know any of these things."

"And if you don't know them, you can't sell the products well." added Judy.

"Exactly. And the only way to learn about these types of products, is to *use* them. For that reason, you have two choices. Either start wearing the bras we sell here, every day, or else find another department to work in. We can't have someone who doesn't know their product *intimately* working here."

They had a point. J. Bingman was known for our customer service. And if I didn't know the products, then I couldn't sell them as well as I should. I had planned to study on them, but not by wearing them!

"There has to be another way" I said.

"No, sorry. Actually, it is in the department's written policy. You have your choice sir. Either wear a bra, or pick a different department."

"But all the other jobs are gone. I would have to quit the store."

"That is your choice."

"I'd lose my benefits. I'd lose most of my retirement!"

"Too bad."

They had me over a barrel. It was clear that they didn't want me here. But I couldn't quit now. I needed a job! And retail was very tough right now. So I had no choice: I had to put on a bra.

"Let me try the Bali first" I said.

Judy looked at Dorothy, and giggled. Dorothy covered her mouth, and giggled back. They clearly didn't think I'd go through with it. I took a bra off the table, and went to the fitting room to put it on.

It sure felt weird. I had never even thought of trying one on before. I of course had to pay for it, but I got my 25% employee discount.

The girls laughed at me, and told me I had picked the wrong size. They fitted me properly, and gave me one that fit better. I put that one on, buttoned up my shirt, then went to the counter to pay for it. This wasn't what I had envisioned when I joined this department!

* * *

 

The next day at work, they told me that not only did I need to try another brand of bra (until I had gone through the entire line we carried), but I also needed to start wearing panties too.

"What if someone asks how durable they are? Or if the ride up on you? You don't have a clue, so you can't answer their questions. And you can't go running to me whenever you need help. So pick out a pair, and put them on too."

This was getting worse and worse. Now I had to wear panties too?

"I'm going to talk to Cindi".

She was the department manager. She would be supportive of me.

"I already did, remember? She backs me 100% on this."

"Then I'll go to her manager."

"Is that wise, going over your manager's head? She'll hate you, and you'll never be in her good graces."

So I was stuck. I picked out a Hanes Her Way bra and panty set we had on sale, and went in back to put them on. I felt foolish, but what else could I do?

 

The next day, Judy and Anne were working. It was Dorothy's day off. I thought that might help, but Anne was a merciless as the others.

"I just love the new nylons" she said to Judy. "They don't run as easily as the old ones."

Judy nodded her head.

"What do you think?" she said to me.

"Um...I don't know" I replied.

Judy gave me that look. She went to the table, picked up a pair, and handed them to me.

"Will that be cash or charge?" she said.

Now I had to wear pantyhose too, under my slacks. And it was no surprise now at the end of the day when they suggested that I needed do buy a nightie to sleep in, so I would be able to tell customers how comfortable it was, or if it rode up on me.

 

Every morning, I would have to open up my shirt to show them that I was wearing a bra. I'd pull up my slacks to show off my nylons. They took my word for it on the panties. And I was sleeping in nighties. I was really getting to know my products well!

I kind of figured that part of the reason they were doing this was to really help with my sales knowledge. But I realized too that it was also in part to drive me away. They were pushing me, to try and get me to quit on my own. But I was stubborn, and determined not to let them do that.

A few days later, Dorothy made a demand of me that was unreasonable. She insisted that I should start wearing black bras, then lighter colored shirts, so they showed through. That would make it easier for them to check up on me.

It was stupid and silly, and there was no reason for me to have to do it. So just to show them, I did it! I wore a black bra under my white shirt, and you could clearly see it. They were no amused. They thought they were going to chase me off. But I had done it.

I saw them huddle together in the back when there were no customers around, other than the one I was working with. What were the up to now?

 

I didn't find out until after lunch. Dorothy gave me a box, and told me it was a present from the girls. I opened it up, and looked in disbelief as I saw what they had given me: breast forms. They were the size, shape, color and weight of real breasts. But they were made out of a silicon gel.

"You need to start wearing those" said Dorothy.

"Without having some weight inside your bra cups, you don't understand what its like to be supported. You don't understand how the straps really feel on your shoulders."

"You need to wear these now, so you can really understand your product."

They were trying to push me again, trying to get me to quit. I would have no such thing. I went in back, and tried to put the forms into the cups of my bra, but I had an A cup on, and these were C cup forms.

"Ah, you're not wearing them. I knew it!" she said, gloating.

"I need a C cup bra. My bra is too small."

They looked at each other in amazement as I took one the right size off the table, and went in back to put it on. I had a suit coat, so along with my large shoulders, it pretty much covered up the fact that I had fake breasts. I opened my coat to flash them to the girls.

Dorothy was mad, and stomped away. I laughed out loud. I was winning. I was beating them. And now I was even starting to sell some product (although I did lag far behind the others in sales still).

* * *

 

The next week, I was called into a meeting with Dorothy and our manager, Cindi.

"Chris, we are very disappointed in your sales numbers" she told me. "You are way behind your quota, and not anywhere near the others."

"Yes, I know. I'm new to the department, and still learning."

"We need you at full speed, and soon. An employee with your seniority needs to be leading your department in sales, not lagging behind. This will not be tolerated."

"I'll work on it" I promised.

"I don't think customers are comfortable with you, because they don't think you know enough about the products" said Dorothy.

"But I do! I wear them every day, just like you said" I replied.

"But *they* don't know that. They can't see it. You need to show them."

"You should wear a blouse like I do" said Cindi. "White and thin. Or a cami top with a strapless bra. Show off that you use what you sell."

"And how about the nylons?" asked Dorothy. "You can't see them under those slacks."

"What about Capri pants?" suggested Cindi helpfully.

"That doesn't show enough leg. What about shorts?"

"That is against store policy dear. I think a skirt is a better solution. It would show off the nylons on his legs, yet be within the dress code."

"You're not serious" I said.

"I am" replied Cindi. "You are about to be fired for poor performance. If you want to stay here, you need to seriously pick up your numbers. So starting tomorrow, you are to report to work wearing a skirt, and a top that shows off the fact that you're wearing a bra."

"But I'll look funny..." I started to say.

"You're right. You had better get makeup, and get yourself a wig. Lets go to cosmetics right now. I know some girls there, and they'll color match you, then do a full makeover."

"And you get the employee discount on cosmetics" said Dorothy helpfully.

"Then we'll go to lady's apparel and get you some proper clothes."

"He'll need women's. He's too big."

"Good point. And he'll need some better shoes. Those penny loafers won't go with a skirt at all."

"And a handbag too..."

 

They took me by the hand, and in a few hours, I had a couple of new outfits, a bag full of makeup, a wig, a purse, and a pair of mules, and a pair of pumps.

I didn't know if I could go through with it. But now my boss was telling me to do this, or I'd get fired. I had looked in the want ads, and called some other stores, but nobody was hiring right now. So I was stuck.

I got up early, got all dressed up, and went in to work.

 

They laughed out loud at me, but I didn't let that scare me off. I just went to work. And in fact, I had my best sales day yet. That would show them.

Anne tried to be helpful to me, more than the others. She told me how a set of ear rings and a necklace would divert attention from some of my less attractive features, so I'd look better. And she helped me pick out a more flattering outfit. I was grateful to her for all her help.

My sales continued to improve over the next few weeks, and Cindi told me she was pleased at my progress. But later that day, something happened which changed everything.

I was straightening up my area, when a man walked into the department. Most men were shopping for something sexy for their wives, but this man looked more nervous than most.

"Hello, can I help you?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm looking for a bra" he said.

"What size?"

"I'm not sure. This is embarrassing" he replied.

"That's all right. Describe her, and I'll estimate. She can always exchange it if we pick the wrong size."

"Well that's the thing. You see, its not for a woman. Its for me."

A month ago, I would have laughed out loud in the guys face. But now that I was forced to wear a bra myself (and dressed so that everyone could see that I was), things were different.

"I came here, because I saw you working here. I'm too embarrassed to ask those women. Do you think you could do a fitting for me?"

"Sure thing" I replied, pulling out my tape measure. "Lets get to it."

I measured him up, and showed him several bras that were what he wanted. He would be wearing breast forms, like me, so I knew which bras were better suited for that. I also recommended a gel glue I used, to keep the forms from sliding around during the day.

"You wouldn't want to look uneven" I said helpfully.

He thanked me, and bought the bra along with three sets of panties.

The girls laughed after he left, but I didn't care. A sale was a sale. And this one was going to pay off for me, but I didn't know it at the time.

 

The next day, it was funny. Another man came to me, to be fitted for a bra.

"My friend Tim was here yesterday, and he was raving about you. You're the first salesperson who has been understanding of people in our situation. So I came here too."

"Thank you" I said, as I helped him out. He bought two bras, panties, two pairs of nylons, and a nightie. My best sale yet.

Then over the next few days, more and more men started showing up, all asking for me! At one point, there were three of them in the boutique at the same time, two of them refusing help from Dorothy, so they could wait for me.

My sales numbers boomed, and when the month ended, it was *my* name that went on the sale plaque behind the desk. It was funny to see my name as "saleswoman of the month". But my commission check more than made up for any embarrassment.

* * *

 

I was wearing women's clothes every day to work. It was too much of a hassle to go home, take them off, dress as a man, then go out to do something. So I would just go to the movies or whatever in my skirt or dress. I was used to it by now, and getting better and better all the time of making myself look pretty.

Cindi called for a departmental meeting over dinner one day, so I attended dressed up as normal, even though it was my day off. They all looked at me, and smiled at each other.

"Dorothy had be me that you'd show up in a suit and tie" said Cindi, "but I had my money on you in a casual skirt."

"You were right" I replied, smiling that Dorothy had lost a bet. My rival goes down in flames. She was even angrier at me now that I was leading the department in sales, for three months in a row. I had developed a whole new market without even trying, while the girls were selling to their traditional customers. So overall, departmental sales were up 45% from last year.

"I think I should get some credit here!" she said angrily.

"How so?" asked Cindi.

"It was my idea to chick-ify him. I'm the one who decided to start turning him into a woman. I'm the only reason he's a success today."

"*She*" I corrected mockingly. "You chick-ified me. I'm a chick now too, so you need to treat me like one."

"Okay miss smarty pants" she said. "You're messing with a woman going through menopause. If you're so sure that you're a chick now, then take a couple of these. My estrogen pills."

"Don't mind if I do" I said, popping a couple of them. I had no idea what they would end up doing to me, but I wanted to piss her off even more.

"You'd take estrogen?" said Cindi.

"Sure, why not?" I said.

"Well, with enough of it, you'll grow real boobs of your own."

"Good. Then I wouldn't need my breast forms anymore" I said, to tease Dorothy even further.

"Dorothy has informed me that she found a subsection of the employee contract that says only women are allowed to work in the intimate apparel department. However, since you've just declared your intention to become a real woman, I have no choice but to side with you Chris. You can stay. Dorothy, if you don' t like Chris working there, then you can find another job. She is my best saleswoman, and I'm not getting rid of her."

I never felt so proud in all my life. My boss considered me to be a woman from that day forward, and started me down the path towards the series of surgeries I have been undergoing. It won't be long now until I *am* a real woman. I guess Dorothy really did "chickify" me. And I love it.

  

  

  

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