Agnes Goes To The Beauty Parlor

The humid summer air hung heavy as Arthur, or rather, "Agnes," nervously adjusted the floral scarf draped around her neck. It was 1965, and in the buttoned-up, conformist world, Agnes was a secret. A carefully constructed facade built on the yearning for feminine expression, a yearning that led her, with trepidation and exhilaration, to Madame Evangeline's Beauty Parlor, located in a remote part of town. This was 1968, and even though he had been wearing "girl clothes" for most of his 42 years, this was a first. 

The bell above the door jingled merrily as Agnes stepped inside, a haven of swirling pastel colors and the intoxicating scent of hairspray. This wasn't just any beauty parlor; it was a temple of hairdos, a sanctuary where women transformed themselves, one curl and teasing comb at a time. The bouffant was in fashion, and Agnes wanted to have her hair washed, teased and made into a halo above her head that would be the crowning glory to her feminine persona. 

Agnes, clutching her worn handbag, felt a flush creep up her neck. Crossdressing in the 1960s was a clandestine affair, a whispered secret often confined to the shadows. The risk of exposure, of ridicule, was ever-present. Yet, the desire for a beautiful hairdo like the pin-ups and movie stars of the day outweighed the fear.

Madame Evangeline, a vision in perfectly coiffed silver hair and a cloud of shimmering lilac eyeshadow, greeted Agnes with a warm smile. "Welcome, darling! What can we do for you today?"

Agnes, swallowing her nerves, managed a shaky reply. "I... I'd like a new hairdo. Something... elegant, maybe a something like this." She clutched a tattered magazine clipping, a picture of Audrey Hepburn with her iconic bouffant, hoping Madame Evangeline wouldn't notice the tremors in her hands. She felt the sweat under her freshly shaved under arms as she put her hand up to her bra strap to straighten it.

Madame Evangeline, a seasoned professional who had seen it all (or at least, knew how to keep her opinions to herself), took the clipping with a practiced air. "Excellent choice, dear! The 'Hepburn Elegance.' Very popular. Come with me!" As Agnes looked around the beauty parlor, she sharted to tremble with anticipation. The sinks with flowery shampoo in glass bottles, the large hair dryers, where a girl could sit and read a magazine and sip coffee as her hair dried. This was almost more than she could take in.

First, Agnes was led to the shampoo station, where she put on her cape and was told to sit back and relax. Madame soaked her head in warm water then proceeded to open the glass bottle and lather up her hair with the sweetest smelling shampoo Agnes had ever smelled. With her eyes, closed, she rubbed her legs together to feel her pantyhose smooth and clingy. After her wash was done, Agnes was led to a plush, pink salon chair, sinking into its comforting embrace. As the process began, the anxieties started to melt away. The rhythmic snipping of scissors, the gentle tug of the comb; it was all strangely comforting.

The hairdo was a meticulous art. First came the teasing, building volume and creating the foundation for the iconic shape. Then, the styling, with precise pin curls and carefully placed rollers. Finally, the hairspray, with Madame covering Agnes's eyes with her hands as she sprayed layer after layer on her new style, locking everything in place. 

As Madame Evangeline worked, Agnes allowed herself to dream. She imagined herself at a cocktail party, the center of attention, her hairdo gleaming under the soft light. For a brief, fleeting moment, she was just Agnes, a woman embracing her femininity. With her cape still on, she felt her firm breasts under her bullet bra and allowed herself a moment of sensual pleasure. Being worked on by this Queen of the salon was a turn on.

When her new coiff  was complete, she shyly asked Madame if she could have her nails polished. "Well, of course, darling!" she purred, and led Agnes over to Katherine, the manicurist. She sat down in a large, comfortable chair and Katherine asked what color she would like. "Scarlet red, please" Agnes whispered in her highest tone, wanting her nails to be just like Elizabeth Taylor. As Katherine started soaking then filing her nails, Agnes felt a twinge in her panties. "I must remember that I am a lady and a lady must control her urges. She squirmed a little and since her hands were on the table, she forced herself to think of something else as to tame the growing bulge under her skirt.

When her nails were done, Madame came back over and inspected the work. "Just marvelous," she purred. Agnes got up and whispered a breathy "thank you" to Katherine, who smiled and winked at her.

Her time at the beauty parlor was coming to an end. As Agnes was led to the full length mirror, she gazed at her reflection, she could barely believe her eyes. The "Hepburn Elegance" was perfect. The towering bouffant, the delicate curls framing her face, the long red nails. She looked and felt like a lady! She turned to Madame, who was right behind her, patting the bouffant for a finishing touch.

"Magnifique!" Madame Evangeline declared, admiring her handiwork. "You look stunning, darling."

Agnes paid, her heart swelling with gratitude and a newfound confidence. As she stepped back out into the bustling street, the world looked different. The stares felt less judgmental, the whispers less condemning. She held her head high, a touch of hairspray clinging to the air around her, a secret smile playing on her lips. Her skirt flowing in the wind, she touched her hairdo and looked at her nails as she made her way home.

Leaving Madame Evangeline's Beauty Parlor, Agnes wasn't just wearing a new hairdo. For Agnes, the beauty parlor wasn't just a place to get her hair done; it was a refuge, a sanctuary, a step closer to becoming the woman she knew she was meant to be. When she got home, she whispered to herself that she looked like a movie star. She took off her outdoor clothes and slipped into a Vanity Fair negligee for the night. Her shaved legs and firm bottom felt sensual under the silky frock. She spent the evening loving herself and planning to go back to Madame often.