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And besides, I made a fairly pretty girl: I had no beard, certainly, at age 13; I was tallish but slender and my hair was very fine and pretty.
My voice, though not as high as Michelle's was a soft contralto.
I slept over at least one night a week and always on weekends; usually going to school on Monday directly from Aunt Caroline's house. I was able to let my hair grow to a sexually neutral pixie type style, so it was possible for it to appear either feminine or masculine depending on how I was dressed and what other flourishes were employed.
Since nobody in Aunt Caroline's neighborhood knew me outside of my playing at her house, I easily was passed of as Michelle's cousin Paula.
Mom had left several changes of clothes with my aunt so that we could do this if the occasion demanded.
This was a treat that I looked forward to, however unexpected, since come bedtime Michelle and I would dress in her pajamas and go to bed. By the time we reached fifth grade, Michelle and I were more sisters than cousins.
Growing into puberty, Michelle and I would pore over teenage fashion magazines, learning how to be as pretty as possible.
Since we were already a mixture of sexes, styles and tastes (our keyboardist (Michelle) and rythm-player were female, our lead-player was simply strange and the bassist (me) and the drummer were male) I suggested we call ourselves ANDROGENY and keep the crowd guessing as to what it was they were looking at.
Michelle and I would dress in light cotton dresses, sandals with no hose and go down to the dance-hall. Michelle would end up dancing with every boy in the place while I watched from the side.
At first, a lot of boys asked me to dance, but I didn't really know how and really wasn't interested in dancing with boys, especially slow dancing. Instead, I watched the band and dreamed that I was one of them up on the stage. Intensive sessions under the sunlamp and keeping the shirt on for a few weeks got me to a somewhat uniform color.
In contrast, our tops were somewhat more conservative.
At the time, our legs looked much better than our breasts. I wasn't at all self-concious about dressing as a girl; I had been doing it most of my life.