Pigtails Are For Girls — Part 16
Chapters 35-36 
 
By Katherine Day
 
Jane gains more strength as she becomes more feminine;
now she faces a decision that could endanger the company her beloved stepfather has created.
Meanwhile, the pangs of love grow stronger.

With great thanks to Julie for her careful editing and ideas
Copyright 2009

Chapter 35: Lovely Fashions for ‘tweens'

By the summer before her senior year, Jane noticed the hormones she had been taking for about eight months began to have an effect. Her skin felt softer and her breasts began to hurt; in particular, she found her nipples had become sensitive to the touch.

“I think my breasts have grown a little, mother,” she said, perhaps out of wishful thinking more than reality.

She walked before her mother, alone in the kitchen, wearing no top and only panties. Her mother looked at Jane, seeing a slender nubile body with undeveloped thin arms that might be more typical of a 13-year-old girl. Jane had grown to 5’ 7” tall and weighed only 120 pounds, but had a cute bottom and somewhat broad hips, probably due to the running she had done in the past for cross country.

“I don’t see much there, honey, but you have the body of a model, that’s for sure,” Nancy said.

“Do you think Jacques will want me to model again?”

“I’m not sure, honey, but I think he has some plan to use you this summer in the store,” she said. “He’ll pay you, of course.”

“To do some sewing?”

“Not sure. Ask him tonight, dear.”

*****
“We want you to come up with some more designs for a second pigtails campaign, Jane,” Jacques said at supper that night.

“Oh, really. Will this be for older girls?”

“No, we want to stay with the tweens, honey,” Jacques said.

“Do you think I can still model for that age?”

“Probably, we can make you up like a 13-year-old, but I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Oh?”

“We have a couple of young girls we’re looking at for models,” he said, expecting Jane would be disappointed.

“That’s cool,” Jane said.

“I thought you’d be sad about that, Jane,” Jacques said. “Don’t you still want to model?”

“Not really, daddy,” she said. “That’s hard work, and I like to design.”

“That’s good,” he said. “I’ve retained Anastasia to work with you on designing. You’ll work in the store, and Anastasia will come in a couple of times a week to review your work.”

“Anastasia?” Jane wondered.

“Yes, Miss Amelia, the woman who trained you last year.”

Jane smiled, realizing that Jacques wanted to ensure that her work would meet practical dressmaking needs, something an experienced dressmaker would know.

“I want you, Jane, to be the idea girl, you understand.”

“Really, daddy? You think I can do it?”

Jacques reached over a grabbed Jane’s hand, looked into her eyes and said: “I know you can Jane my dear. We’re doing to market these clothes under the name of ‘Jane.’”

“Jane?” her mother interjected.

“Yes,” Jacques said with firmness. “Jane. Just plain old Jane. We’re going to make ‘Jane’ the clothes every tween girl will pester her parents for.”

“Will they wear pigtails?” Jane asked.

“Of course, silly,” Jacques said with a smile. “Pigtails are for girls, and all girls must wear ‘Jane.’”

*****
“Oh, you’re Jane,” a tall, blonde young woman said. “I remember you from some years ago when you were the pigtail model.”

Jane looked at the girl who was fashionably dressed, but it was obvious had put on some weight. It was Jane’s first day of work at Claudine’s, and she had been driven to work by her stepfather, and introduced to the other workers. Jacques had made a workplace for Jane out of a small room that had been used for alterations, complete with drawing board and easel and sewing machine.

“Remember me?” the girl asked. “I’m Heather. We modeled together.”

“Oh yes, you were always nice to me.”

“Yes, those others were so jealous of you,” she said. “I’m a sales clerk here now during the summer. Am at college otherwise, and work here some during weekends and vacations.”

Jane was eyed suspiciously by the others, largely because she had at onetime been a star model and because she was the boss’ stepdaughter. Nonetheless, her co-workers seemed pleased to meet her, and Jane looked forward to a happy summer.

“No one there ever suspected I might have been a boy once,” she told Jacques as they drove home that night.

“No honey, and many had asked me whatever happened to that hot young model we had in the pigtail campaign.”

Jane worked hard that summer, readying designs for the later winter and early spring “Pigtails Are for Girls” campaign and the introduction of the “Jane” line. She had numerous arguments with Anastasia, whose criticisms always were made harshly and direct, always with a tone that seemed to indicate Jane was stupid.

It took several weeks, but Jane soon realized all of Anastasia’s corrections were made for practical and cost reasons, and never were critical of Jane’s artistic themes. She began every session with some criticism or other, and the remark always began with: “Why in the world would you do . . .” said with her heavy Polish accent.

Never did Anastasia compliment a design and Jane sometimes wanted to cry, but she knew she should never want to show weakness before this woman. By the end of the summer, Jane became fond of this overbearing woman who truly only cared about the professionalism of her work.

“You’re a lovely young woman, Jane,” she said one day. “Don’t you haf any boy friend?”

“Not really. Mother doesn’t want me to get serious yet,” Jane replied.

“Vell, I haf a nephew. He cute honey. He need girl friend.” Anastasia acquired a mischievous grin as she announced this fact.

“Oh, well, I have one boy friend, Miss Amelia, but he’s off at school,” Jane said, hoping the mention of Anastasia’s nephew was only idle chatter.

Anastasia’s offering of her nephew as a potential boy friend was becoming routine for Jane, particularly among boys and young men who never knew of her genetic origins. Even when she dressed casually, Jane drew looks and occasionally got advances from young men. During the summer, Jane was reluctant to walk alone in the halls of the mall in which Claudine’s was located, having been subjected to lustful looks or even crude invitations by the crude boys and men that populated the hallways.

“Are all men so rude?” she asked one day.

“You make me so jealous,” Heather said as the walked to the food court for lunch. “All those guys want you, honey.”

“No Heather, they’re looking at you, too,” Jane responded.

“Sweetie, you’re the beauty here, not me.”

The two had become quite close during the summer, even though Heather was a few years older. They shared a common interest it turned out, in movies and politics as well as fashion. Heather was studying political science and history, having become active in the College Democratic Committee on campus.

Sometimes Wanda joined them for lunch. She was working during the summer at one of the athletic shoe stores in the mall, and arrived wearing the basketball referee’s shirt, which was required uniform for store employees. Wanda, as it turned out, had become an outspoken supporter of feminist causes, having battled the high school administration to ensure they gave girl’s sports in the school all the support they deserved under Title Nine rules.

As the summer wore on, Heather and Wanda began chumming around a lot; they invited Jane along to their outings, but Jane soon realized she was a “third wheel” in the relationship and usually begged off. It was never mentioned but Jane was convinced the two had developed a lesbian relationship; Jane was pleased for both of them.

*****
“Don’t you think you’re working Jane too hard, Jacques?” Nancy asked her husband as the summer moved into August.

“She seems to thrive on it, Nancy,” he replied. “Besides, she’s made lots of friends at the store.”

“But six days a week for a girl that’s only turning 17 this month is pretty much, dear. She’s getting awfully thin, and she’s got no color at all.”

Nancy had tried to get Jane to eat more, but as the summer wore on she merely picked at her food, usually eating the greens and the vegetables, leaving the meat portions untouched.

“I wonder if it’s those hormones, Nancy?” Jacques asked.

“I don’t know, but Jane seems to have as much energy as ever, doesn’t she?”

“She’s a whiz at the store, working on the designs for the campaign, sewing sample dresses, even taking time to model them. Jane has so much enthusiasm she just seems to infect the whole place.”

It was true Jane seemed to be a whirl of teenage energy, alternately running and skipping through the store and backroom areas, giggling, her hair flying and the pigtails flapping. Jacques told Nancy she looked like a 13-year-old sometimes, and everyone seemed to love her.

“I know she’s excited more than one young man in the store,” Jacques said, laughing. “Eric our stock boy hangs around her like a lap dog, and Jane seems to relish the idea. She flirts with him mercilessly, I’m afraid that boy will die of disappointment if she never agrees to date him.”

Nancy looked sternly at her husband: “Jacques, you know we’ll have no dating for her yet, not until she’s a girl through and through. You know that, don’t you?”

“Oh I know that. We’ll keep Jane under wraps for now, but don’t you ever let her out, she’ll cause devastation among the young men of the city.”

“Jane tells me that Anastasia keeps wanting to hook her up with her nephew, Jacques,” Nancy asked. “Is that right?”

“She keeps persisting at that, but Jane just puts her off.”

“I thought Anastasia knew that Jane still has her male parts,” she asked her husband.

“She does, but she thinks Jane is so divine that such things don’t matter,” he laughed.

“Jacques, I’m so worried about her. She’s really naíve about sex and relationships, I think.”

Jacques smiled: “Oh Nancy, my sweet, I don’t think Jane’s as vague about these things as you think.”

*****
Dr. Martin had referred Jane and her mother to Dr. Jennifer Braunschweiger, whom he called the best gender specialist in the area. The doctor had prescribed the hormones and followed the medical treatment of Jane since she began living as a fulltime girl in October of her junior year in school.

Dr. Braunschweiger, in spite of her rather ponderous name, turned out to be a tall, striking blonde woman of early middle age. She wore her long blonde hair tied in a bun in the back, and wore no makeup that one could determine. She smelled of fresh soap, seeming to eschew perfumes of any type.

It appeared the woman took no interest in beautifying herself, yet Jane found her to be one of the most attractive women she’d ever seen.

“Her eyes are a magnificent blue, Jane,” her mother said after their first appointment.

“I wanna rush her to a beauty salon, fix her hair and put on some stylish clothes, mom,” Jane said. “She’d be the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Nancy smiled at her daughter, who would get so excited and expressive at times, the words rushing buoyantly from her lips. She was finding the new energy in her daughter to be so stimulating.

“Honey, she’s already beautiful, so why should she work at it?”

“But she could be so much more beautiful. She’s a natural.”

“She doesn’t need to be more beautiful; she’s already a big success. She’s helping people and she’s nice and I see she has a nice family. You saw the pictures on her desk.”

“I guess.”

“Makeup and dresses do not a beautiful woman make, dear. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

Jane pondered the statement for a minute, adding: “I guess the important thing for us is whether she’s a good doctor.”

“Yes, dear. For you that’s much more important.” They both laughed.

Dr. Braunschweiger scheduled monthly appointments for Jane, just to monitor the hormones.

“We’re beginning you with a slightly higher dose than usual, Jane,” the doctor said on their first appointment.

“Is that wise, doctor?” Jane’s mother asked.

“It’s OK as long as we monitor Jane closely, Mrs. Pinkerton. If there are no side effects, it should go all right. Jane’s a healthy girl and seems strong enough. We’ll schedule once a month appointments and if you feel anything other than the changes I said you’d face, Jane, you must contact me immediately. You understand?”

“Yes, doctor,” Jane said. She had a printed sheet that outlined the changes she’d experience as the hormones began to work.

“I agreed to increase the dosage based on Dr. Martin’s recommendation,” the doctor explained, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, a motion that distracted Jane momentarily as she wanted desperately to fix the woman’s hair.

“Yes, I know,” Nancy Pinkerton said. “The doctor is totally satisfied that Jane needs to become a complete woman as soon as practicable.”

“Yes, I can see that, Mrs. Pinkerton. Jane is all girl now it appears mentally and psychologically; all we need do is correct the physical part, right?”

“Yes, doctor,” Jane said eagerly.

Their August visit was their 10th with Dr. Braunschweiger, and the doctor appeared wearing lipstick and with her hair fixed up.

Jane was so astounded at seeing the doctor more beautiful than ever that she couldn’t help blurting out: “How beautiful you are today, doctor?”

“Jane,” her mother scolded. “You shouldn’t address the doctor like that.”

“That’s all right,” Dr. Braunschweiger said, smiling broadly. “When Jane was awaiting for me last time, I saw her looking at a fashion magazine, and wondered how strong her interest was. You, Mrs. Pinkerton, had left the room, since she and I were to have a private consultation.”

“I remember.”

“Jane told me she worked this summer for your husband’s store, Claudine’s and did dress designing. I was astounded. She’s so young.”

“She’s been studying dresses since she was a little tyke.”

“So I asked her what she thought of my fashions. And she told me.” The doctor laughed.

Nancy looked sternly at her daughter: “You didn’t?”

Jane merely nodded, her head hung low.

“Yes, she did, and was pretty honest about it, too.”

Jane reddened, wishing she had never said anything.

“And,” the doctor said. “I realized Jane was right. I’ve been so busy with my practice and my kids I forget about myself sometimes.”

Jane looked at her mother, not sure what to say. The doctor added with a smile: “In this case, the patient was the doctor.”

The visit turned suddenly businesslike. The doctor ordered Jane’s weight and vitals taken by a nurse.

“Well you’re really turning into quite a young lady,” the doctor said. “But we need to fatten you up. You’re getting too thin.”

The scale had said 116 pounds, underweight for her size of 5’ 7”. Jane now stood before the doctor in only her panties; her mother was out of the room.

“You never developed boy muscles, that’s clear,” the doctor said, examining her arms, one by one, noting their slenderness and lack of muscle tone. “You’re frame is truly that of a young girl, Jane, so your transition in that way should go nicely. I’m pleased with the growth of your breasts, too, dear.”

“But they’re still only training bra size, doctor?” Jane protested.

The doctor explained that later on, Jane would need breast implants, since hormones on their own won’t do much to grow the breasts.

“But Jane, you should gain more weight,” the doctor said. Her voice was firm. “The hormones shouldn’t cause weight loss. If anything, they should increase your weight. But, if you don’t put on about 10 more pounds, I’ll have to cut back on the hormones and that would delay your transition.”

“I don’t want that, doctor,” Jane said. “I’ll try.”

“Now get dressed and I’ll talk to your mother for a minute. And, Jane, thank you for the style hints. What do you think of this suit today?”

Jane looked as the lovely Dr. Braunschweiger arose from her chair, and did a model’s turn, showing off her elegant long legs and smart dark blue skirt. “It’s truly stylish, doctor.”

Leaving the room, Jane was astonished to realize that the doctor, who must surely be a sophisticated and worldly person, was looking to her, Jane, for modeling hints.

*****
It takes until August for Lake Michigan to warm up enough for any serious swimming; even then the water temperature keeps out all but the hardiest. Yet, Bradford Beach in Milwaukee was always a great place for girls to throw down a few beach blankets and sunbathe on the beige-colored sand, even if the water was too frigid.

The beach was mobbed when Latoya, Heather and Jane arrived on a Sunday in mid-August; all of the sand volleyball courts were crowded with prancing girls in bikinis and their tanned boy friends playing and giggling over inept volleyball games. The three found a spot to throw down their blankets and their cloth coolers with snacks and cold drinks. There were other clusters of girls doing the same, while the boys tended to hang out near the concession stand, eyeing the girls or just acting crude. Jane no longer could contemplate hanging around with boys like that; it just felt so natural to be with the girls, and, more importantly, to be one of them

“That damned Demetrius,” Latoya said, as they settled on the blankets, all lying on their tummies, their books laid out in front of them. “I think he’s hot on some girl from college.”

“Oh no, ‘toya,” Jane said. “I thought he really loved you.”

“I did too, Jane, but he’s only seen me a couple of times this summer, and he seemed so quiet, so unlike himself. He claims he’s busy at work, and he is taking some extra course too.”

Jane put her arm around her friend, murmuring, “maybe he’s just preoccupied.”

“He should be preoccupied with me,” she said in an almost mean-sounding tone.

“Men are no good,” Heather said. She was several years older than Jane and Latoya and the three girls agreed to go together to the Beach to brighten up an otherwise boring Sunday. Jane found that she relished these moments with her girl friends, sharing girlish small talk.

“We need to get this lotion on, Heather,” Jane said. “Or else we’ll both burn quickly.”

Latoya whose dark skin precluded the need for much sun protection, helped as they took turns applying the lotion on each other; even Latoya used some, since sun damage can also be done to dark-skinned persons.

“Dammit Jane, you have the loveliest body of all,” Heather said.

Jane enjoyed feeling the hands of both her friends massaging the suntan lotion onto her smooth, almost dainty back, and her truly skinny arms and lovely shoulders. She felt their hands covering her thighs and legs.

Then it was Heather’s turn to be covered with lotion; the young woman had grown a bit fleshy since her modeling days when she was 16 and 17 years old. Her breasts had filled out as well as her hips and thighs. Jane felt she was truly a pretty and appealing woman.

“I bet you girls would like some help with the massages,” a male voice came, interrupting their activity.

Jane looked up and found she was staring directly into the sun, looking at the outline of a boy, his features hidden by the glare.

“No thanks,” Heather said. Being older, she was used to these approaches and moved quickly to stifle the advances.

“Aw, he was just kidding,” said another voice.

They realized there were three boys standing before them, two wearing only swim trunks and displaying trim masculine bodies with the third boy wearing a tee shirt over a somewhat chubby body. The boys introduced themselves as Tom, Anson and Caleb.

“Can we sit with you a bit?” the chubby boy, named Caleb, asked.

The girls looked at each other, gave an approving nod, as if to say the boys looked ok, or at least “not too bad.”

“We all graduated from King here this year,” the boy named Tom announced. He was referring to Rufus King, the premier high school in Milwaukee for the college bound.

“Well, good for you,” commented Heather, a bit sarcastically, knowing that King grads often acted a bit arrogant.

“We’re not like that,” the other boy, Anson, said quickly, picking up on Heather’s intended slur. “Really, we aren’t.”

The three girls introduced themselves, and announced they were from Douglas, the city to the south.

“You come here for the boys?” Tom teased.

“No, because this is best beach around,” Jane said firmly. “There are plenty of boys in Douglas. We don’t need boys from here.”

“Oh listen to that!” Tom said. “She’s too pretty to have a mouth on her like that.”

“She told you off,” Caleb said, laughing at his friend.

“Jane may not look like she’s strong enough to swat a fly, boys, but don’t get on the wrong side of her,” Heather said.

“I can see that,” Tom said.

As it turned out, Tom ended up talking most with Jane, Anson with Latoya and Caleb with Heather. The boys bought the girls ice cream and they even took part in a makeup volleyball game, Jane embarrassing herself by her athletic ineptness. She felt her arms too weak to make decent servers, but everyone giggled and laughed, and several times she fell in the sand, once landing in the arms of Tom who hugged her briefly.

Both Heather and Jane wore skirt type bottoms and full halters to make up their two-piece suits. Heather felt the fuller suits were necessary because of her heftier figure, while Jane realized that her penis, small though it was, might show through a tight swim suit bottom. Latoya, who had a magnificent figure, wore a bikini.

“I enjoyed meeting you, Jane,” Tom said.

“I did, too,” Jane said. She had truly liked Tom; they talked about his desires to go to the State University to study politics; he was active in the Presidential campaign that year, and even asked Jane to get involved, but she begged off, pleading her busy scheduled, which was truthful.

“Can I call you up sometime?” he asked as the afternoon was about to end.

“Mmmmmmm,” Jane paused.

“No you can’t,” interjected Latoya. “She’s got a boy friend.”

“Oh,” Tom said, growing red. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

The afternoon ended suddenly as a cool breeze arose from the lake and the sky darkened, foretelling the coming of a thunderstorm. Everyone scrambled from the beach and headed to leave, the girls reaching Heather’s Focus just as the downpour began.

“Did anyone give up their phone number?” Jane asked as they paused in traffic on the crowded lakeshore parkway.

“Not me,” Latoya said.

“Well, I gave Caleb my number,” Heather admitted. “I don’t think he’ll call, since I’m two years older than he is.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Jane laughed.

“I’m sorry, Jane, that I wouldn’t let you give Tom your number,” Latoya said. “But you know how your mother feels. No dates for you yet.”

Jane nodded, realizing that as lovely a girl as she was, she still was equipped with a penis and several other male characteristics which could cause her harm or embarrassment. She, too, admitted to herself that she still considered Marquise to be her boy friend and, thus far, the love of her young life.

Chapter 36: Resolving a Dilemma

Except for the trip to the beach and the every-other-week visits by her stepbrother, Jane’s summer vacation was concentrated on her work at Claudine’s and the preparation for the release of the store’s new fashion line for ‘tween girls, those from 10 to 13. Since the line was to carry the name “Jane” in stylish lettering, Jane felt she had to give it her greatest attention.

Thus every weekday and for half days on Saturday she rode with Jacques to and from her job at the Milwaukee store to spend the day drawing designs, cutting and fashioning samples and trying them on models and herself. It was a labor of love, but it was labor, nonetheless, and she was exhausted by the time the weekend came.

Everyone who saw the designs raved about them, except for Anastasia who constantly carped about production concerns.

“I love her, dad,” she said to her stepfather after one particularly troublesome day of fighting, “But how can she be so ornery, so nasty?”

“Listen to her, my pet,” Jacques said with a smile. “Between the two of you, you’re creating a gem.”

“I know, but I could kill her.”

Jacques looked at his stepdaughter, astounded at the degree of anger she showed, so much a change from the sweet, kind child who never had a bad word to say about anyone.

“You two are quite a team, dear. Now the only thing is to see if the new line will sell.”

Jane knew that Jacques had put a lot of money into the project, and it could either make or break the store. She loved her stepfather without reservation; her mother had been so fortunate to fall in love with this man who treated Jane as his own daughter.

“I’ll work with her, daddy,” she said. “I know how important it is, but I could have killed her today, you know.”

At Jane’s insistence, Jacques had decided to make all of the JANE line in Douglas, taking over a onetime dress manufacturing company that had gone out of business as the work had been out-sourced to China and Sri Lanka. Jane had learned from Latoya’s mother that she had lost her job in the plant, and that there were still skilled workers in the area, needing such work.

“We should be able to say ‘Made in USA’ on our labels, daddy,” she said.

Jacques scheduled to have the plant reopened in October, rehiring some of the previous workers and even a few supervisors to work in the formerly abandoned plant. Most of the equipment was still useable. The Douglas Journal-Times called the reopening the “Miracle of 6th Avenue,” referring to the street location of the plant in an otherwise rundown, largely abandoned industrial district.

Even the Wall Street Journal highlighted the prospect of the plant reopening, noting that it would be the only clothing plant to be opened in the US during the year, bucking the trend to send work overseas. The newspaper wrote:

“The plant is to manufacture a promised new line of clothes for girls from 10 to 13 called JANE / USA. The new line of clothes is to be based on the sensational ‘Pigtails’ campaign of several years ago, which was a six-month phenomena among young teen girls.

“The company, Claudine’s Apparels of Milwaukee, says only that the designer of the clothes is herself a teen, but will give no other details. Her designs are being previewed under strict secrecy in the company’s place of business.

“Several teen magazines have been sending reporters to Douglas and Milwaukee to seek to ferret out this mystery teen designer. So far, the young ladies identity seems to be unknown.”

*****
“Guess who called me?” Heather said on the Tuesday morning after their trip to the beach, stopping Jane as she was sorting materials before beginning to sew a new sample dress.

“That kid from the beach?”

“Yes,” Heather answered, her face growing a bit flush. “Caleb.”

“I figured he would, Heather. He was hot for you. And, he seemed kinda nice.”

“Not really, Jane. The other two were nicer, but all three are too young for me.”

“You mean you’re not going out with him?”

“Well, ah, yes, I am. We’re going to the movies on Friday, and he says Tom wants to take you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Jane. They all wanted you. You drew all the attention, Jane. I think Caleb called me because Tom wants you so bad.”

“But you know what my mom says, Heather?”

“Oh Jane, you’re 17 now,” Heather said. “You can’t stay unkissed forever.”

Jane laughed. She had become acutely aware of the allure that she held for many boys; yet, she was aware she still could not “date” in the usual sense. Tom would probably want to feel her up and then what could she do.

“Well, I just can’t, Heather. Really I can’t.”

“It doesn’t make sense Jane,” Heather said. “You’re so lovely and smart. Why won’t you go out? Don’t you like boys, honey? Really you can tell old Heather. I understand those feelings.”

Jane nodded, recognizing that Heather had seemed to find an attachment for Wanda, who had long felt she was likely lesbian. Heather, it was apparent, was having confusion over her own sexual feelings.

“No Heather, I like boys. It’s just that I can’t date yet.”

“Well, I guess I understand, but poor Tommy will be disappointed.”

Jane desperately wanted to tell Heather about her gender situation, but she knew she had been accepted as a girl at Claudine’s, ever since she first tried on clothes during her middle school years. All of the employees and the models accepted her as a girl and Jane knew that to expose herself now might upset her stepfather and damage the campaign to market the Jane line of clothing.

Besides, Jane told herself, she really had a boy friend, at least in her fantasy. In her mind, she pictured Marquise, now grown to six feet in height, slender and wiry with neatly cropped hair. Almost nightly she envisioned herself in Marquise’s arms, accepting his kisses.

*****
“Sooner or later,” Nancy Pinkerton told her husband, “the newspapers are going to find out about our Jane.”

“I know,” Jacques said. “They’ve been nosing around, trying to find the high school our Jane went to. They’ve scoured all the schools in Milwaukee, and sooner or later they’ll put two-and-two together and realize she’s at Roosevelt here in Douglas here.”

“Yes, Jane’s kind of a legend now at Roosevelt, even though the novelty of her sex change has worn off.”

The two were discussing the matter over an early weekend in September, enjoying an ice tea on an unusually warm day. They sat at the picnic table in the backyard and soon were joined by Helen, their neighbor and mother of Jane’s best friend, Wanda.

They shared their quandary with Helen, who had been involved with Jane’s switch from being Jarod from the beginning.

“You’re marketing that line of clothes to middle schoolers, Jacques,” Helen said. “And their parents will hardly like it that they were designed by a transgendered girl.”

“I know,” he said. “We’ve purposely tried to keep the clothes in good taste and not too racy.”

As they continued talking, Jane appeared from the house, carrying a diet drink, and wearing a pair of short shorts and a tank top, with a floppy sunhat on her head. Her slender, lithe figure literally flowed and her pigtails bounced as she walked to the group. She heard enough of the conversation to realize they were talking about her and the problem of keeping her gender a secret.

“Sooner or later, honey, the world will have to know,” her mother said.

“I know, mother, but that’ll kill the sales for our Jane line,” Jane said.

Jane sat down next to her mother, using her left hand to play daintily with one of her pigtails, pondering the dilemma.

“I hate being dishonest, mother,” she said finally.

“But once it’s known, the whole clothing line will die,” Jacques said. “And all the new jobs we created with it.”

“Not to mention the investment you’ll lose, Jacques,” Nancy said.

“I know,” Jane said, her demeanor becoming morose.

*****
The conversation on that warm afternoon bothered her for several days: Jane was struck with the irony of it all: If you’re dishonest or gloss over the truth, you’ll succeed but if you’re open and honest, you’ll fail.

“I’ve been dealing with this dishonesty about myself all my life,” Jane told her friend Wanda on the following weekend as the two had stopped at their favorite coffee shop. Wanda had an athletic scholarship at the state university in women’s basketball, and returned home about every fourth weekend.

Wanda had grown nearly six feet in height, and her body had hardened, but retained a warmth and femininity, which made her attractive and even alluring. She usually had a warm smile, brightened by sparkling blue eyes and framed by short, well-maintained strawberry blonde hair. By contrast, Jane was almost a wispy slender twig of a girl whose natural beauty attracted the attention of passers-by.

“Jane, sweetie, you’ve only had to hide who you are because you had to,” Wanda said. “You’ve always been a girl, a female, but you had to hide that before because of your mom.”

“She was afraid I’d get hurt, you know?”

“Yes, and she was probably right, but you got hurt a few times anyway.”

“And now, I’ve got to hide the fact that I still am a boy, in one way at least, and hide the fact that I once was only a boy.”

“Oh, I know, it does seem unfair,” Wanda said, touching her friend’s slender, pretty hand.

“And it’s unfair to friends like Heather,” Jane continued. “It seems I’ve hurt my other friends, too, like Marquise, who’s mad because I hid the truth from him.”

“Doesn’t he contact you at all, Jane?”

“No, Latoya said he’s still pissed at me.”

“Maybe time will change that,” Wanda said. “I understand he’ll be home for Thanksgiving.”

Jane smiled, a hope springing in her heart for this lovely young man; yet, she feared any further friendships with him were not in her future.

Wanda said she had been out with Heather the previous night, visiting a dance club where they met some other girls. “I really like her,” Wanda said. “She’s a true friend. Do you want me to tell her about you?”

Jane considered the idea, recognizing how close both Wanda and Heather had become, most likely developing a lesbian relationship. Jane enjoyed the idea that she had developed so many friendships with other girls and that she was accepted as one of them.

“No, I think I should tell her myself,” Jane said. “When the time comes.”

*****
On October 1, Jacques held a formal factory-opening; he had hired about half of the eventual workforce he expected would be needed to handle the JANE brand of clothes. The governor and Mayor of Douglas both appeared for a ribbon-cutting ceremony to herald the first employees to enter the plant.

“We’re so proud to recognize Claudine’s Apparels for re-opening this garment factory,” Mayor Maryann McCormick said in her speech. “At one time, Douglas was one of the leading clothing manufacturing cities in the United States, specializing in children’s clothes. Foreign trade has taken its toll and we’ve lost all the jobs in the industry. Now, we must salute Jacques Marcineau for his enterprising beginnings here.”

The ceremony included four models walking across the platform, showing creations that were to be manufactured at the plant. The girls were all 14 and younger, since the JANE apparel line was to be aimed at girls 10 to 14. Three of the four models wore pigtails as if to highlight the age bracket.

In his few remarks, Jacques thanked the mayor for his encouragement and the governor for speeding up an application for a small business development loan, but then he had a special acknowledgement: “None of this would have been possible except for our Jane, the young lady who gave us the idea of the JANE clothing line and has designed all of the clothes.”

“Where is Jane?” someone yelled out.

“Jane’s here and we’ll introduce her soon,” Jacques answered.
“There’s no Jane,” someone else yelled. “She’s just a marketing ploy.”

Staring down the heckler, a young woman wearing a camouflage outfit, Jacques said: “Yes, ma’am, there really is a Jane and she will be revealed when she is ready. She’s the genius behind the designs and the pigtail trademark. If you’ll recall the pigtailed girl that four years ago set off this campaign when she was 14, that was our Jane.”

The hecklers had a point: Jane’s identity had been kept a secret, and there was speculation that she was merely a gimmick to sell clothes. There had been posters set up, showing the first fashions that Jane had modeled, and displaying the logo that would herald the new line. The logo was simple, a stylistic cartoon of a girl with pigtails, with the words “JANE / USA” emblazoned fashionably.

A Milwaukee-based advertising agency, with strong New York fashion industry connections, had set up the JANE / USA campaign, and it was hoping to take the sub-teen fashion world by storm.

Jane nervously waited in the office of the factory, located just behind the platform that had been erected for the event; the governor’s black huge General Motors SUV was parked nearby, with two motorcycle officers from the County Sheriff’s Department, standing guard. Several hundred people, mainly the new employees of the factory and their families, along with union representatives, several business officials and other dignitaries gathered about the platform, listening in the mid-morning sun, still low in the eastern sky.

All three major television stations in the area had crews there, along with Channel 9 from Chicago, which beamed nationally through the cable systems.

“Is JANE / USA the rebirth of garment making in Douglas?” headlined the Douglas Journal-Times the morning of the reopening ceremony.

“If what they’re doing today in Douglas, Wisconsin, is any harbinger for the future, this once thriving manufacturing capital for women’s clothing will again be going strong,” commented the reporter for a National Cable news network which was taking the TV feed from a Milwaukee station.

“This is a big story, Jane,” Jacques told her several days earlier. “During these tough times, people are looking for signs of hope, and we’re giving it to them. On second thought, it’s you, yes you, who is giving them hope. You insisted on the clothes being made here.”

“I know, daddy,” she said. “And now I’m maybe going to blow it for you.”

“Don’t say that, honey,” Jacques said. “This whole thing is a gamble, but I have faith that you being honest and letting the world know you began life as Jarod will not matter.”

“Oh, I hope so, daddy, I’m so selfish to insist, and you’re such a cool daddy.”

Jacques smiled. “Jane, I think your need to be honest is so important. Let’s go for it, right.”

“I love you, daddy,” she said.

Jacques had the most to lose in the venture; he had mortgaged the business to begin production at the plant; he had convinced a local businessman who strongly supported revitalization of Douglas to join in the venture, at the tune of several million dollars. Yet, he readily agreed to let Jane go public, even though it might bring bankruptcy. Jane’s mother, Nancy, was very reluctant, urging that they just keep Jane in the background, and continue as they were.

“But, mom, that’s dishonest,” Jane said in a heated argument.

Jacques, however, prevailed, stating the happiness of his new family and his daughter, Jane, was most important, as well as basic honesty.

*****

(Item in Douglas Journal-Times, Oct. 2, 2007)

New fashion plant opens to big fanfare,
But news that ‘JANE’ is boy shocks all

DOUGLAS, Wis. — This community’s expected rebirth as a fashion capital of the nation began with both major fanfare and a shock that may threaten the success of the venture.

JJ Fashions opened its doors Tuesday to usher in the first of some 120 employees it expects to hire before the end of the year. The opening followed a ceremony before more than 200 bystanders outside the plant on W. River Road. The plant-opening was heralded in a ribbon-cutting shared by plant owner, Jacques Marcineau, Wisconsin Gov. Will Boylston and Douglas Mayor Maryann McCormick, and watched by both local and national television crews.

“This is big news, not only for Douglas, but for the garment industry throughout the state and nation,” Mayor McCormick said to great cheers.

The big news of the day, however, was sprung at a press conference held after the event inside on the factory floor.

“I’m Jane,” said a willowy, pretty teen girl with long flowing light brown hair. “And I was Jarod until last year.”

The announcement by this teen girl whose fashions form the seed for the new factory was simple and direct, and the fact that Jane was a transgendered girl at first didn’t register on the news reporters, who were expecting a typical news conference to hype the new JANE / USA clothing line.

“First of all, I must say I am sorry for deceiving so many people, some who viewed me as a female. I was never honest with them that I was born a boy.

“Second, I must tell you all that I have always felt I was a girl, and I am currently under doctor’s care and am in the process of transitioning to be a female. That’s a process that will continue for several years.

“Third, I must thank my mother, Nancy, and my stepfather, Jacques, for their support. I must have been a difficult girl for them.

Her announcement revealed, too, that she was the stepdaughter of the plant owner, who has put significant investment into opening the plant. Both parents were at Jane’s side during the announcement.

Also at Jane’s side was Anastasia Szymczak, known professionally as Miss Amelia, a prominent woman’s clothes designer from Milwaukee. She had been hired to oversee the young girl’s designs to assure that they would meet the demands of mass-production.

“I assure you,” Szymczak said, “The designs were all Jane’s, and I merely looked over her shoulder. This lovely child is a true talent.”

Jane said she had always felt she was female, even as a young child. “I loved dressing dolls and designing clothes for them,” she said. “I just felt more real as a girl.”

Jane is a senior at Franklin D. Roosevelt High School in Douglas, where school authorities said she maintains a 3.89 grade-point average, is editor of the literary magazine and president of a club entitled, Peace at Roosevelt, formed to decrease violence at the school.

Principal Marguerite Jones said Jane switched to attending school as a girl in her junior year, and that after some hassling by other students, the change was relatively peaceful. “She’s a credit to our school,” the principal added.

Jane appeared on platform wearing her trademark pigtails, a symbol of the new JANE / USA clothing line. She wore one of her newest designs, an autumn outfit, which featured a v-neck, sleeveless top of turquoise with a dark blue swirl below the ‘V.’ Her mid thigh-length skirt was layered with dark blue cloth, each layer trimmed in lace. She wore flats and matching turquoise ankle socks. The outfit made her look about 12 years old, instead of 17, her real age.

Four years ago, when she was 13, she modeled clothes for Claudine’s Apparels in Milwaukee. At the time, her stepfather said, everyone knew her only as a girl, except for himself, the fashion photographer and publicist.

Heather Young, a Claudine’s employee and former model, told a reporter: “I modeled with her then and have since worked two summers very closely with her and never suspected. As far as I knew, she was merely a pretty teen girl.”

Young said Jacques had assembled all Claudine’s employees the day before and had Jane admit to her gender.

“We were all shocked,” Young said. “Some of us were mad that she was deceiving us, but you have to put yourself in her place. She must have felt very confused.”

Not everyone was pleased with the announcement. Whitney Helgeson, president of the Douglas Association of Commerce, commented that Jane’s revelation might kill the JANE / USA line even before it started. “There are likely to be boycotts and all sorts of fuss, and all this will be for nought. I wish she’d have kept her mouth shut. Or his mouth shut. Whatever!”

Within two hours of the ceremony, six persons identifying themselves as members of the Witness for God Evangelical Congregation began picketing JJ Industries, carrying signs that for a male to wear women’s clothes was an abomination. “We’re notifying churches everywhere to boycott this line of clothes in protest to this young man spitting in the eye of God.”

Marcineau, JJ Industries owner and Jane’s stepfather, said: “We’re aware that some persons may be uncomfortable with Jane’s situation. She really had no choice in the matter. I’ve looked into this transgender issue and realize that some persons are really born in the wrong body. That was what happened in Jane’s case.

“Also, I want everyone to understand that Jane is a very moral and ethical person. She wanted to be totally honest about her gender, even though it might cost sales. Furthermore, you must not confuse gender with sex. Jane is changing her gender, and not participating in sex. As a boy, she had several dates, all very innocent, and she has yet to date a boy in her new gender.

“Her mother and I are proud of her and all of Douglas should be as well. It’s been her inspiration that has been at the heart of this today.”

Marcineau’s eyes teared up as he completed his comments.

“We think Jane’s designs will sell themselves,” commented Szymczak. “They’ve been very popular with young teen girls. I don’t think Jane’s gender should be an issue.”

*****
All of the news coverage brought Jane back into the spotlight at Franklin D. Roosevelt High School. Jane dressed like any other student in the school the following day, jeans and a sweatshirt, with her hair tied in a bun. She wore only neutral lipstick and no eye make-up. She was determined not to stand out in the school, or to draw attention to herself. But she soon realized she could have dressed as a homeless girl and still become the center of attention. There were hoots and whistles aplenty as Jane approached the school the morning after the plant opening ceremony.

“You’re the queen of the school again,” Latoya said as the two met on the street in front of the school.

“I’m afraid so,” Jane said.

“Oh, oh,” said Latoya. “Look what’s up ahead.”

The Witness for God Evangelicals had positioned themselves on the public sidewalk near the entrance, with about a dozen middle-aged persons and a few younger men in their 20s forming two lines along the sidewalk, leaving just enough room for arriving students to walk single file through their makeshift gauntlet. Arriving school buses lined the curb, making it difficult for students to avoid walking between the protesters whose signs, carelessly printed in markers, complete with misspellings, proclaimed: “God Says NO to Fagots,” “Boicott JANE,” “JANE is Godless Wierdo.”

“Oh damn,” Jane said, realizing she’d have to brave the gauntlet. “I’m going through it, I’ll show those cowards.”

“Where are the cops when you need them?” Latoya asked.

“I don’t know, but things have quieted down here at Roosevelt. Maybe that’s why they’re not here,” Jane replied. “Let’s go.”

With that, Jane moved forward resolutely, her head held high, ready for any hitting or taunts they had to give. She remembered Jacques philosophy: “Do not hate them. They think they’re right, but they don’t know any better. You are strong so don’t be dragged down by them.”

Yet, as resolute as Jane appeared on the outside, she was trembling with fear inside, and hoping it didn’t show; Latoya followed right behind her to show common cause and purpose. Jane took strength from her friends, girls like Latoya and Wanda.

Just as Jane reached the group, she saw Jerome, the huge security aide appear at the other end of the gauntlet, his voice booming authoritatively:

“All right folks, let the young ladies through. Or else there’ll be trouble for you all.”

“Are you threatening us?” a middle-aged man who appeared to be the leader protested, his voice weakening as Jerome looked at him with a menacing scowl.

“I’m warning you. These young ladies have a right to go to school without your harassment. Open up your ranks now.”

His booming voice carried a no-nonsense quality that caused the protesters to back up, although reluctantly, but without some mutterings about their right to assemble being abridged.

“Welcome, my young media star,” Jerome smiled as Jane and Latoya emerged from the gauntlet. He escorted the two onto school property, right in the midst of a throng of students who were milling around the entrance, waiting to enter.

A huge cheer went up, and Jerome said: “That’s for you Jane. We’re all so proud.”

Jane smiled, and like a celebrity, waved at the crowd, and many cheered back: “Way to go, Jane,” “We love you Jane,” “Kisses Jane,” and as she high-fived several friends, she noticed a handful of boys turn away in disgust at the demonstration, and Jane realized she would always be the subject of scorn for some people and a focus of curiosity by others. That would be her life from now on.

“Jane,” Jerome said as he directed them into the school and through the metal detector, “I owe you a personal debt of thanks.”

“Why, Jerome?” she looked up at this giant of a man, his face almost in tears.

“My mom was one of the workers who went back on her job in your plant yesterday,” he said. “She said it was like being reborn, to get back into the garment trade.”

“Jerome, that makes me so happy, really, it means more to me to hear that than anything. I’m so happy for your mom. What’s her name?”

“Mom’s name? Oh, it’s Sylvia, Sylvia Jackson.”

Jane felt so elated as she headed to her locker and classes for the day. She thought, too, of Latoya’s mother, who also got a job in the reopened factory. She discovered the realization that it may have been her own insistence at having the JANE / USA line manufactured in Douglas that made it possible for Sylvia Jackson, Latoya’s mother and many more like them to get their jobs back. Little did she realize it then, but the recognition that she, Jane, had positively helped other people marked the beginning of a change in her life, even more than the gender transition she was going through.

*****
Most of the preparation work for developing the JANE / USA line of clothes had been completed during the summer, and Jacques insisted that Jane should concentrate on her senior year in high school. He hired Anastasia fulltime to be the company’s design director, and Jane’s activities were relegated to occasional trips to the plant for consultations and promotion work that was being developed for winter and spring to accompany the release of the JANE / USA line to the stores in March. She also worked several Saturdays a month at Claudine’s Apparels mall outlet store, where Jacques felt she’d get ideas by waiting on customers and signing autographs, which became a side-effect of her recent celebrity status. She enjoyed the Saturday work, particularly since she got a chance to work with Heather.

After the splash of news that accompanied the plant-opening, there were numerous requests for Jane to make public appearances; two of the major networks invited her to appear on their morning news shows, but Jane’s parents, with Jane’s approval, turned down all media interviews, saying: “Our daughter is still in high school and needs to concentrate on her studies.”

The advertising agency handling the JANE / USA account agreed to keep Jane under wraps, though they did allow a reporter and photographer from Vanity Fair to spend time in Douglas for a long feature story that would highlight both the new clothing line as well as outlining the truth about transgendered teens. In addition, another reporting team from Teen Views, a magazine directed at young teen girls, was permitted to interview Jane and her friends and to review the coming fashions.

On the Saturday after the plant-opening ceremony, Jane was surprised to see Melissa, who was the sister of Terri, enter the store.

“I’m so happy for you Jane,” the young woman said. She was dressed casually, but with good taste, and she appeared thinner than Jane remembered her.

Jane agreed to meet her for lunch at the food court, and was startled to see Melissa sitting with an older woman, a pleasant-faced woman with a husky build, wearing slacks and a colorful wrap.

“This is my mother, Jane,” Melissa said, introducing the woman as Jane took a seat. After the three got their food, they settled in for conversation.

“I’ve followed your story with great interest,” said the older woman, whose name was Deborah. “I only wish I had met you when you and Terrence were friends. Maybe he’d still be with us.”

“Mother, dear,” Melissa interjected. “I think she’d like to be remembered as Terri.”

The woman’s eyes moistened: “I know, honey, but I can never get use to that. He came into this world as Terrence. I miss him . . . ah . . . her so much. And, I must blame myself for not paying more attention.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Mrs. Heller,” Jane said. “Terri said her stepfather was strict about being all boy.”

“That’s true, Jane, but I should have listened to both Melissa and Terri then. I know now he was like you, I guess. You know, really feeling he was a . . . ah . . . girl.”

“She really was only happy, I think, mother, when she was Terri,” Melissa said.

“I know that now, honey, and my marriage to that man was so bad and he hurt our family so much,” she said. “I’m rid of him now.”

Jane smiled, gaining affection for this family, as the conversation went on.

“I made a good divorce settlement,” Mrs. Heller continued. “And Melissa has helped me understand the transgendered people better. If I had only known.”

“And mother wants to start a Foundation to help young boys who face similar situations as you and Terri did,” Melissa said. “She’s made good investments, and built up a nice bank account. So we thought it might be nice to use some of that money to help begin a Foundation to assist in educating people about transgendered youth.”

Her mother added: “We’ll call it the Terri Heller Foundation, in honor of Terrence . . . oh, darn, I mean Terri. I’ll never get used to that.”

Melissa explained that they had hired an attorney and begun to incorporate the Foundation, and suggested that Jane might eventually want to get involved, perhaps to lend her name to the Foundation.

“Of course I would, just let me know how.”

As they ended their lunch, the three hugged briefly, and Melissa said: “Jane, I can’t tell you how lovely a young woman you’ve become.”

“Thank you, Melissa, and you’re looking great.”

“Oh still too fat, and how I envy your figure.”

Mrs. Heller smiled: “She’s lost 30 pounds and I think she looks great. And, Melissa show Jane your engagement ring.”

Melissa reddened, holding out her hand to show a silver engagement ring, with a large ruby centered by four small diamonds.”

“Wow, congratulations, Melissa. Who’s the lucky man?”

“Mark is an attorney in Milwaukee and he’s sweet man,” Mrs. Heller said. “The wedding is the second Saturday in June.”

Jane hugged Melissa again.

“Gosh, I’d love to make your wedding dress,” Jane said.

“Really, we were hoping you’d want to,” Melissa said. “We’ll pay you of course.”

“Let me do it for you, no charge, Melissa, in honor of Terri.”

“Not for free, Jane, but in honor of Terri, yes, Melissa said.

Jane watched the two walk away, and realized she was eager to design a dress that would flatter the young lady to make them all proud. Melissa’s fleshy body would pose a challenge, but Jane would be determined that the dress she designed would make Melissa, who was such a generous and lovely friend, a dazzling bride.

*****
Her senior year at Roosevelt continued to be busy. As editor of the Odyssey, the school literary magazine, she found the weeks before the late November publishing deadline to be unbelievably busy. Fortunately, she had two other girls on the committee who worked, along with her co-editor, Aniesha.

The theme of the December issue was respect, and Jane found one of the girls particularly talented in graphic arts, and they designed a cover called “Respect at Roosevelt,” containing a stylish collage of students, emphasizing the great diversity within the school, touching all bases: Caucasian, African-American, Hispanic, East Asian, American Indian and, cleverly, gay.

Articles within the covers were written by persons of each of the ethnic groups, including one by the gay students group president, with an opening comment by Jane, as editor, reflecting briefly on her own transition and the welcome she received from both the school administration and most of the students.

*****
The Peace at Roosevelt (PAR) group finally succeeded to getting the leaders of the various groups (or gangs) together to meet each other under the auspices of Prof. Angleton. They held weekend sessions, in which the participants were given gift cards and refreshments to reward them for attending. The sessions started on a rocky note, but by the second day, the rival groups were laughing and telling jokes. There was no formal truce announced, and none was sought, but Jane saw enough progress to prompt her to hug each of the boys (they were all boys) at the end of the session.

“You know what I think helped to cool things down?” the professor said after the sessions ended.

“What?” Jane asked. Tiffany, Aniesha and Sam were also there doing a post mortem on the sessions.

“You Jane, telling them all why you want to be a girl,” the professor said. “That was so courageous.”

“Yes, her honesty I think shamed them all,” Tiffany said.

“I just wanted to get them focused on something other than their hatred for each other,” Jane said. “The sessions seemed to be going badly.”

“They were,” the professor said.

“You almost had me crying when you finished, Jane,” Sam said.

Gangs continued to exist at Roosevelt; it was inherent to the community at the time, but there was a relative peace and but few random acts of violence. Soon, police presence was decreased and school continued, less chaotic and a bit more orderly.

The principal visited a PAR meeting in the middle of Jane’s senior year praising the group for its efforts and initiative in seeking to make Roosevelt a better school. Though she singled no particular member of PAR for special recognition, she did indicate the “extraordinary courage” of a certain student with “special characteristics.”

“That’s Jane,” Tiffany interjected. “She’s our girl!” The group cheered.

(To Be Continued)