Chapter 430: 42,000 Marks; We Go Clothes Shopping

Tuesday, July 1 to Thursday, July 10, 2008

It was much easier to get the non-Mom members of my family onto my side.

I went running with Donna the next afternoon. We had a long conversation about topics that I knew were important to her. Naturally there was a lot of talk about sex, as Donna was very curious about it anyway and had been bursting to ask me about what she'd observed. She already knew enough about sex to know that she'd seen something very unusual. She was also amazed that I'd let her watch, and was even more amazed when I told her that I'd be getting Mom's permission to take a considerable role in her sex education and training [Donna's I mean, not Mom's. Sorting out that one problem between Mom and Dad was the beginning and ending of my involvement in my parents' sex-life].

When Donna was tiring, we popped home to get her bike so she could ride beside me while I blew her mind with my running endurance. I kept my speed below world-record times because it was too early to introduce that level of freakishness, and I probably couldn't have gone much faster than I was anyway as my body hadn't adapted quite enough yet, but what I did still had Donna VERY excited by the time we finished my run. By then the only remaining conversational boundaries between us were on subjects we hadn't had time to get to yet.

When we got home, we played a little one-on-one basketball with me slaughtering Donna. I invited Dad to join Donna's team, then I slaughtered them both. That pretty much had both of them solidly respecting me, or at least had Dad respecting the magnitude of my change.

Within a couple of days, Donna and I were giving each other quick hugs whenever we saw each other after an absence of a few hours. It became normal for us to be leaning against each other on the sofa when we watched TV, and that progressed to arms around each other, or her lying down with her head in my lap.

Carol's attitude toward me was slower to change, but only because Donna was naturally an impulsive person. Donna's raving about me over the weekend helped a great deal in my convincing Carol to let me take her clothes shopping on Monday, even though I could easily tell that Carol was just doing it to humor me, with every intention of doing her own shopping while ignoring my comments.

Seven of my minds had lived with a Julia, Carol and Ava for three years, plus even more significantly, quite a few months with Nevaeh. Living with just over three girls on average does not mean being exposed to three times as much clothing information as living with one girl. From my experiences, I estimate it means more than thirty times as much. They talk and talk and talk to each other! That was especially true once Nevaeh joined us because she had the best eye for what worked, a better understanding of why, and the other girls - especially Julia - were determined to learn from her so they talked about fashion at least incessantly, if not more. That means my seven imported minds had been subjected to an extraordinary quantity of fashion discussion. (I can't understand all the controversy over waterboarding, because it seems so non-traumatic in comparison.) Despite my very best efforts, I'd accidentally absorbed a great deal of - I'll charitably call it - "knowledge" about females' clothing choices, including a great deal about what suited Carol's body shape, her coloring, personal styles for different situations - casual, party, special date, etc. - what she was comfortable with, what accessories worked with her (e.g., what shape of earrings best suited her rounded face and the hairstyles she used), and many other factors.

It only took three or four serious discussions in clothing stores for Carol to be amazed by the words that were coming out of my mouth. By the time we'd finished our first familiarization pass through all the stores, Carol was STUNNED by me. Even with my having to compensate for this Carol being less self-confident and in a different financial situation than the Carols I'd learned about, she could tell that I was far better at judging what clothes suited her than she was. Being more knowledgeable than Carol wasn't hard, as I'd had the 'educational' (cough, cough) 'benefit' (more coughs) of living with multiple Julias and Nevaehs while this Carol knew even less than ordinary girls. Given how beautiful her face and figure was, that was a sad indication of how much she'd always preferred to stay in the background.

Speaking of her financial situation reminds me of mine. I was willing to blow a significant chunk of my savings on Carol, but I didn't have a lot of savings and we weren't shopping at the Kmart end of the market, so I wouldn't be able to buy nearly as much as I wanted. That made me even more cautious in my evaluations, making me appear even less like a male shopper. Carol was so impressed by my recommendations and knowledge that she was very happily talking about spending much more of her own money than she'd originally intended.

I don't know whether you know this or not - hopefully for you, you don't - but you can't really take a girl clothes shopping unless you've already memorized everything in her closet, have been studying what other girls are wearing, and - according to Julia and Nevaeh - have diligently studied the latest international fashion magazines. Despite all eight of my minds having failed to read fashion magazines, between what I'd seen this Carol wear and what I'd picked up from my other-dimensional girls, I was able to make several 'intelligent' (cough, cough) comments, further impressing Carol.

I also impressed her in other related ways, such as by responding to her suggestions about what store we should visit next by my making comments about that store: "No way. Their major brand gets 80% of their stock from a large CMT factory" (Cut, Make, Trim; basically an assembly operation) "outside of Shanghai which seems to push their workers to go so fast that they don't finish properly. You'll have problems with the hems and seams coming undone, buttons not lining up perfectly with their holes so tops don't hang quite right, and things like that. We won't even look in their window."

By the end of the first pass, Carol was so impressed by me, and I'd said enough variations of, " ... depending on what you've already got in your closet," that Carol dragged me home so we could go through her closet.

All I had to do, theoretically, was quickly look at every item in her closet, plus the folded up garments in her drawers such as sweaters. My memory had already improved dramatically, so it could've taken less than ten minutes. It didn't quite go that way because Carol held up an outfit to ask me, "What do you think of this?"

We were still reviewing and discussion all of her clothes a few hours later when Mom came home from work. Carol heard Mom's arrival and called out, "Come to my room please, Mom." My family had accumulated enough money to move to a slightly better house, so Carol and Donna now had their own bedrooms.

Mom walked in to find virtually every item of apparel Carol owned strewn around the room, Carol and me standing in the middle of it, with Carol in her bra and panties.

[Take it from an accidental pseudo-expert, there truly is no substitute for seeing the outfit being worn to judge it competently. Getting Carol down to her underwear hadn't been part of my plan. It'd happened simply because after so many hours of nonstop fashion talk, Carol had forgotten that I was a boy and she'd started swapping in and out of outfits unselfconsciously. She'd realized her mistake a few undressings later, by which time my VERY careful lack of reaction - I'd realized the situation the instant she started lifting her first top - had taught her that there was no point in making a big deal about it. She felt self-conscious for the next few changes, but the excitement of the discussion had rapidly dispelled that. By the time Mom arrived home, even my original mind had stopped noticing Carol's semi-nakedness and she was totally uncaring about it herself.]

Carol's underwear was decidedly unsexy - seven out of the eight of me thought - but Mom's eyebrows both shot northward at the sight of Carol being undressed with me in her room. Before Mom could get the wrong idea - which would soon be a very understated right idea if my plan went the way I wanted - Carol started raving about my fashion-sense (the prefix "fashion-" has an even more extreme meaning than "non-" when placed ahead of "sense"). Carol looked around for a particular garment, which was no easy task in the disaster site that was her room, spotted its sleeve protruding from under some other garments, swooped down to pick it up, unconcerned by the view she gave me. Carol put it on while commanding me, "Tell Mom what you told me about this."

I couldn't think of anything witty to say in response to that opportunity - I'd spent the whole day talking fashion so my intellect was now a gibbering wreck hiding behind my thalamus until it was safe to come out - so I merely followed Carol's order. It took a few minutes because her outfit was wrong for her in several ways.

As soon as I finished, Carol exclaimed, "He's been like that ALL day! He's BRILLIANT at fashion! I'm NEVER going to buy anything again unless Mark approves it first. He even knows all about the stores, where their labels are manufactured, which sales assistants to use or avoid, the owners' names, and EVERYTHING! And he won't tell me how!"

I said, "Now you understand why the first surprise I gave you was with Alexis, Mom. Otherwise you'd be convinced I was gay by now."

"Where did you learn about women's fashion?" asked Mom, in puzzlement and a foolish hope that I'd tell her.

"In the same place I learned to run so well and judge the sexual behaviors of everyone in this house." My turning over a leaf explanation had been deemed an unsatisfactory one, so I'd been grilled over my recent changes. Everyone was totally mystified, and the parents very determined to understand their son's dramatic changes. It was one thing for me to see something in my parents' love-life that even Dad hadn't spotted, and it was a COMPLETELY different and mystifying thing for me to be able to outrun Donna and out-basketball Dad and Donna combined. Despite their many repeats of the same few questions, I'd not satisfied my family's curiosity. I'd just told them that the cause of my change was a secret that was my responsibility, and that I was refusing to make it theirs.

Carol's enthusiasm bubbled over into a gushing description of her day.

I interrupted it to say, "Carol, how about you put some clothes on and help Mom with dinner. We didn't have a big enough lunch and I'm hungry." With only eight minds I couldn't obtain as much energy from the Universe as my vastly increased mentation required, so I was eating about 50% more than I used to. Probably slightly more than that because I was trying to change my body shape as fast as possible.

When Mom and Carol left to start dinner, Carol still excitedly describing her day with me, I started tidying up the mess in her room, sorting her clothes into several groups. It took me several hours less than would've been the case if Carol had been helping me.

All through dinner Carol gushed about me and fashion. She'd never been so excited about fashion before, but having me explain everything with such clarity and credibility had ignited her genetic weakness for it.

Donna caught the disease and asked to join us tomorrow, Carol having already allocated all of the next day for us to hit the stores again.

With great enthusiasm, Carol urged, "Get Mark to go through your closet with you first. We'll do that right after dinner."

I wasn't the only one that got bad news over dinner, because Carol urgently asked Mom and Dad for more money so she could spend it tomorrow. Donna thought that sounded like an excellent idea too.

Mom was doubtful, answering, "Let's see what you come back with first, before we spend much."

After dinner, the first thing I did was take Carol back to her room, followed by Donna and Mom. I explained the groupings Carol's clothes were in now, and suggesting a new organizational structure for her closet and some of her drawers (my new minds had shared a walk-in closet with several girls, so I knew FAR more than I wanted to about clothing organizational systems). I was encouraging her to put all her non-rejects away right now, rather to risk me getting sucked into another discussion about all of them.

Mom indicated one of Carol's garments and asked, "Why did you reject that? I like how she looks in it."

"If I start answering those questions, in five minutes Carol's clothes will be spread all over the bed and floor again, and we'll never get to Donna's room. That'd leave me unprepared for helping with Donna's shopping tomorrow. Carol knows my opinions about all of her clothes so ask her later. Meanwhile let's get these put away as fast as possible so we can get to Donna's room."

They fell for it, so it took a miraculously short time before we were recreating the tornado effect in Donna's room.

I didn't have nearly as much specific information about what fashion suited Donna, as it'd only been the last year or so that my other-dimensional girls had been helping Donna buy her clothes. Nonetheless, I still remembered quite a few Donna-specific tips, and I'd also been corrupted by far too many general fashion principles that I could apply to anyone. As a result, we didn't have to go through many of Donna's clothes before my commentary had Mom and Donna as amazed by my fashion acumen as Carol was.

Dad must've gotten lonely because he wandered in an hour later to see what was going on.

Donna shrieked and covered up as she was in her underwear. Dad got very quickly shooed out of the room, chuckling to himself. Dad wouldn't normally have walked into Donna's bedroom without being careful about announcing himself first, but he'd heard my voice from in here so had obviously assumed it was safe for males to enter. He hadn't been aware that by now the females in the family all considered me one of them. No doubt they thought that was a good thing, and it certainly was for gaining their trust.

After I'd finished commenting at length about all of Donna's existing clothes, Mom was impressed enough by my fashion sense to talk about my choosing several new outfits for the girls. Implicit in Mom's comments was that she'd be contributing financially, making all the kids very happy.

The girls were therefore somewhat surprised, if not dismayed, when I said, "I suggest we don't buy many outfits tomorrow. A few are needed, but not even half as many as I'm removing from their closets. Their personalities and clothing styles are going to be changing quite a lot over the next few months because of my influence on their lives. More than a few new outfits would be a waste because they won't get worn. It'd be better to save our money for when the girls are ready for their new looks."

The girls had some very eager questions about their new looks.

I certainly wasn't going to explain. What I had already said - telling them in general that I was going to change their styles - was a useful first step in making the changes easier. It got them used to the idea, would make them easier to motivate later, and it even gained me some authority over the process. But it'd be a bad idea for me to be detailed about the changes, especially because the main change I wanted was to make both my sisters dress sexier. That wouldn't go over well with Mom or Carol. It'd go over well with Donna, which would only increase my problems with Mom.

I answered by using my hard-won fashion credibility (I'd learned it without trying, but it'd still been hard on me), "I'm sure you understand that your clothing styles will change noticeably after six months of my educating you about fashion. The trouble is that your current style is what you like the most, so if I describe a different style to you, then you obviously won't like it as much and you'll be disappointed. You're going to have to trust that I understand fashion well enough to know what I'm doing, including knowing what you'll like once you're better educated and have learned to be better judges of clothes." They trusted my fashion sense to a degree that amazed me, so I got away with that sidestep.

I also sidestepped Mom's asking me for advice about her clothing choices by saying, "I'm a teenage boy, so it's the fashion of teenage girls that I notice the most. There are some general principles that I could apply to your clothes but you should be aware of most of them yourself. Rather than have another marathon closet reviewing session in your room, how about I just comment on whatever I see you wearing each day, presuming I can think of anything useful to say about it?"

Mom agreed to that, adding, "Please speak up if you don't think something suits me. I want my boss to think well of me."

That was an opening I couldn't resist, "I'll do as you ask, but I suggest that the best way of improving your standing at work isn't with your clothing. When you go to work tomorrow, tell your coworkers that you've recently become aware of how often you say, 'Are you insane' as an accusation. Apologize to them for it, and ask them to point it out to you if you accidentally say it or something similar out of habit."

"What are you talking about?"

I took Mom through it again slower, until she understood exactly what I was asking her to do. She was convinced that it was unnecessary because she was sure she never spoke to her coworkers that way.

"If they've never heard you say it, then there's no harm in asking them whether you have. I strongly suggest you ask them though. And after you've heard your coworkers' responses, you might want to have a talk with your boss about it because it might be coloring his impression of you. I wouldn't be surprised if it was a factor in your missing out on that promotion you went for a few months ago." There being no MAF in this dimension, Mom hadn't changed jobs to work for it, and she was still at her medical sales support job.

^

The next day's shopping with Carol and Donna was actually fun most of the time, although I could've done without the salesman who assumed I was also a homosexual. Counterbalancing that was an incident in which a refreshingly female assistant was so attracted by my fashion knowledge - after her overhearing a long discussion about a style Donna liked but I didn't - that she started flirting with me. She obviously had a better gaydar than the gay guy, and no compunction about flirting with me in front of the two girls I'd walked in with. When her flirting got so strong that Carol and Donna noticed, I told the assistant, "Thanks for the compliment, but it's not going to happen. I've already got two fantastic and beautiful girlfriends, and my life is perfect."

My sisters laughed happily, and accepted my comment in amusement. A week ago they would've indignantly denied that connection, and told me off for embarrassing and annoying them. Things were progressing nicely.

After we'd left the store, Donna and Carol started teasing me for being shy with the assistant.

I disagreed, "I wasn't the least bit shy. I've got too many other very important things to do over the next few weeks to bother with starting with a new girlfriend."

"What about Alexis?" asked Donna. Donna was fascinated by what I'd done with Alexis; not only the sex, but the way I'd done it right in Mom's and Dad's faces and by the emotional depth Donna had overheard me revealing in my post-coital conversation. Donna had already asked me so many questions about Alexis that she didn't need to ask any more, but she couldn't resist.

I answered, "I needed to quickly convince everyone that I'd changed a great deal. I chose Alexis because I knew she'd be easy to get into my bed, that it'd be very pleasurable for both of us, and she wouldn't turn into a clingy, time-wasting wannabe girlfriend afterward. I've told her we'll have lunch in a few days, and then another session maybe a week later. That doesn't consume much of my time, and she's cool with that because she enjoys be free to have casual sex with other guys quite often." All of which Donna already knew, but I was happy to have Donna ask me questions about relationships and sex.

Carol asked, "If you've got important things to do, why are you spending so much time with Donna and me?"

"Because you and Donna are two of the MOST important things." I gave them a one-armed hug each. They accept my hugs, with only Donna giving me half a hug in return. It was early days in our new relationships though. I added, "Until a few days ago our relationships were a terrible waste, but now your first reaction is to smile when you see me. The improvements we're making are very important to me."

^-- Proximity told me that they were mostly comfortable with that, but did have some concerns, especially Carol. I couldn't tell what their concerns were about, so to be safe I downplayed what I'd just said then changed the subject with, "We'll just spend time doing enjoyable things together like shopping, and we'll see how well we get along." I put on a fake-outraged tone of voice, "Meanwhile I'm APPALLED by your teasing me for being shy! I'll show you how shy I am! The next store we go into that has a suitable girl, I'll stop you EVER being able to tease me for shyness."

A couple of stores later, there was suitably aged, attractive and actively shopping 'target', so I made sure to clearly say "my sisters" to the assistant a couple of times. Then when Carol asked me about a dress that she pulled from a rack, I gave her a long, impressive answer, loud enough to be heard by my target. I repeated that tactic again talking to Donna a couple of minutes later. By now the target girl was conscious of me and impressed by the extent of my knowledge about the most important female topic ever.

I waited until the target pulled a dress that suited her out of a rack. She paused to consider it, and I spoke out to her, "The style suits you, especially the way it" (I'll omit making you read the reasons, out of consideration for my male readers). "But you should get it in one of your colors. You can probably know that the square neckline doesn't go well with your current hairstyle, but you should get that changed to better complement your face anyway. Who does your hair?" [My extra-dimensional girlfriends had not talked just clothes, but also hairstyles, jewelry, makeup, shoes, fabrics, colors, handbags, etc., ad nauseam. Much of which had seeped into my brain, ears not being capable of being closed or redirected the way eyes can be.]