Turning Red
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I always thought that I had a boy’s face. I never thought that I would be convincing as a girl, let alone turn heads. I would have even dreamed of doing it if I had not been subject to extreme pressure by my colleagues at work. It was just that I had told them that I was going to get a drastic haircut, and Anna said that maybe I should play around with some styles and color before I called for the clippers.

I wore my hair quite long for a man and tied back. It was just a thing I had adopted in college and kept when I started work at a drug company. I worked as a brand manager in hair products and I was getting tired of people pulling my ponytail and talking about using the client’s products on myself.

“Ok, it is all going anyway,” I said, final relenting. “You can get to work on me this afternoon and have your fun, but after that I am going for a number three all over.”

It was a Friday afternoon – I was not expecting it to last any longer than that. A salon near to our offices used the products I marketed and my coworkers had arranged demonstration samples.

I knew that one of the products was used for eyelash tinting. I really had no idea what the facial bleaching was all about - I only knew that it was a beauty product that was highly effective, but what it was for was removing any color from facial hair so skin on the cheeks and chin will barely show. I knew all about the hair dyes and the lacquers, but I had never seen them fully demonstrated until I saw them on me, that day.

They had even colored my eyebrows to match and just brushed them into shape. I looked into the mirror and I could not believe what I saw. My hair had been cut but into a bob of shiny red hair, and I had cheeks to match, I was blushing so much. The person looking at me was so unlike myself and so pretty that I just had to smile.

“Don’t you dare cut that beautiful hair without going out for a drink looking that good,” said Anna. “I have a dress in the office just back from dry cleaning. I am sure it would fit you. We just need some shoes in your size.”

I said that she was crazy and there was no way that I would be going out looking like this, but as I moved my head from side to side and my hair bounced and shimmered, I started to wonder what it might be like to be admired by somebody other than myself.

The dress was quite short and that meant I needed to shave my legs, and somebody had to trace my feet and then go out to get me a pair of women’s shoes. I just let it all happen because I was so entranced by my own reflection.

I may have told myself that I had fallen in love with the female me, which is why I was so fascinated, but I now know that is not true. My sexual attraction to women was always questionable. I admired women, which is probably why it proved so easy to pretend to be one that evening. I knew how a woman should behave, and I knew how a classy woman should deal with men who might be attracted to her. The problem was that there were so many of them.

“The hairdresser has closed for the night, so it looks like you are a girl until the morning at least,” said Anna. “Then maybe you can return to being a man and we girls can have a chance again.” She was only half joking. I was getting the attention, and I was loving it. I was still blushing like crazy – getting even more red.

The thing is, that I was learning new things about myself. It turned out that I was not the person I thought I was – I was somebody else entirely.

The End
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© Maryanne Peters 2025