Boymode, (i actually wrote that,lol) I'm a slob. Its been years since I've so much as touched a tie, or wool suit; and even just very rarely long jeans or casual slacks. I live, almost exclusively in gym shorts and T's; except dressing up, which amounts to cargo shorts and a polo shirt. I collect T's that are free, or nearly free, and rarely even buy them.
I kind of approached my toy girl clothes in the same way, just an outward suggestion of what could be.
I was curious, as suggested from the other thread, that maybe it was starting to become time for a little real girlmode, even though everything seems so fast to me, I'm a few months in, there's budding & aeriola and serious measurable fat redistribution (and my butt is comfortable to sit on...) (my corset fit and pull has completely changed in the last couple months...)
So I get the toy clothes out, and do try them on; they don't fit right.. and I notice. The colors don't match right, and I notice. The material is cheap, and I notice. And even though cheap, I treat them kindly as I'm dressing, I don't just put them on; I assemble an outfit (such as it might be). I notice the lace, touch it, listen to it. I pull the corset snug, but its no longer a competition to see if I can break a rib with my arms, but just snug to give a nice figure. I fuss with the bra, more annoyed that the front padding doesn't quite lay smooth (cheap), than complete filling (wrong size). The petticoat goes on, but I'm honestly a little upset that it's lace is wrinkled from poor storage. I lay out the dress, get its accessories smoothed and ready; then pull the rest over and tie&zip..
And there was no arousal. Nothing vulgar. Nothing erotic. But I also decide some things, even though it is complete, it IS a toy.
In girl-presentation, I do not want anything cheap to touch my skin again.
I don't know why that thought is there, but its important. Its more important than another car. Its more important than some number of fast food meals or electronic toys.
I want to feel the fabric, and feel a need to be worthy of its value, its quality. The labor and care that went in to its making and designing.
And I'm getting really choked up typing this, and that's even more odd.
How can the quality of clothing cause a slob like me to feel this way?
