The Conformist

"But I really would like to go, Mother!"  you whine to your  mother.  It is so bothersome of her to not let you go to the gala of the century.   The gala is only a couple of blocks away from your stately townhouse on 1st Street, and is in a secluded mansion of a handsome bachelor.  There, people can drink and dine on the finest imports from France and Italy, as was promised in the invitation.  You knew that this was the best, maybe the only way to meet the social norm of finding a wealthy husband.

"Virginia!  I will not have my only daughter go into the home of that dirty fellow!  Only the Lord knows what could happen."  Your mother exclaims, with a definitive edge to it. 

"What if I had Willie come with me and make sure I stay out of trouble?"  You plead, knowing that having your older brother with you is the only way your mother will budge. 

"I suppose that could do, but you have to convince him.  Understand?"

"Thank you, Mother, thank you so much!"  You cheer.  You run to your mother and give her a hug, and then race up the beautiful wooden stairs to convince your brother William to go to a party. 

You stand in front of Willie's dark, wooden door and knock politely, not wanting to anger him before you even say anything.  The door swings open and your tall, muscular brother of 22 leans on the Redwood frame.  "What is it?"  He blubbers, drunk from his stash of whiskey and gin.  You silently note that this is the third time this week that Willie was drunk before noon.  Although you understand that being left at the altar is embarrassing and heart-breaking, you don't understand why he must always drink.

“Would you like to go to a party with me tonight, Willie?”  You ask pleasantly.

“Will there be a bar?  I’m running low on gin.”  Your brother grumbles.

“I would suppose so.  After all, it is at the Anderson Mansion, with everything the finest of everything, and who wouldn’t want alcohol now that the Prohibition has ended.”  You answer, although you wish that one of your closest kin wouldn’t care about the booze.

“Then count me in, Virginia!”  Willie shouts to you, clearly happy about the prospect of free drink.  As you walk away, you wonder what you should wear to such an important event.

***

“Virginia, turn around so I can see the other side of your dress.”  Your mother commands.  “Honestly, I do not think that this dress is the one.  The red in it might as well be the same as the curtains.”  She says to you.

“Stifling a laugh you reply, “I agree.  Should I give the plum colored gown a try?”

“No, no.  Put on the navy evening dress, you know, the strapless, floor-length one.”  You nod and step back into your vast closet, pondering on where it could be.  At last you spot it and put the dress on.

It's a beauty of a thing, with soft, supple layers of fabric that overlap to form the skirt.  As well as a silken, corset-like top that gives your rectangular body the softer shape of an hourglass.  Besides the fantastic style of the dress, you feel that although you are trying to find a husband, it is too suggestive.  Thus, giving men the wrong idea about your character.  “Mother!”  You call.  “I don’t think that this dress is right for this evening”.

“Well my dear, would you let me see it first?”  Your mother answers.  You step outside of the closet and into your dimly lit bedroom.  Your mother gasps, “Virginia, you look like an angel in that gown!  Why wouldn’t you want to wear it?”  You shake your head.

“Isn’t it a little too provocative?”  You ask.  

“No, of course not.  Besides, maybe in this dress you’ll find a nice, traditional husband.”  

“But mother, I don’t like the dress for this occasion.  If it were for a friend’s bachelorette party, then I would definitely wear it.”  You explain, hoping that your mother understands.

“I do not care, I think it is lovely on you and the perfect style for the event!”  She declares in a sugary voice that exasperates you.  You nod and motion for her to help you do your hair and makeup.

“I think that we should just put my hair in curlers like I normally do.”  You say, as you put on a soft robe.

“I agree.  And I think that you should color your lips in that darkish red, as well as some powder on your face and some black liner on your eyes.”  She says while examining your dark, shoulder-length hair and pale skin.  You nod as both of you begin to work.

***

“Okay, we are here now.  I am going to find the bar.”  Your brother mutters to you.

“Have fun!”  You call to him as he marches through the grand doors.  You check the time.  Perfect.  As intended, you’ve arrived fashionably late.  As you step into the sizable mansion, a young man links elbows with you.

“Hello, Miss, how is your evening tonight?”  The man asks.

“It is going quite well, Mr…”  I trail off, not knowing who the gentleman is.

“Mr. Anderson, and you are?”  You nearly gawk, the wealthiest person in town has chosen to talk to you.

“Miss Johnson, but you may call me Virginia.”

Mr. Anderson nods and then says, “‘Then you may call me Robert, Virginia.”  You smile and continue to walk with him.  “How rude am I?  A fine lady like you, and I haven’t even asked you to dance.”

“Well that could be forgiven.”  You answer.

“May I have this dance, Milady?”  Robert asks, with a silly little bow.

“Of course, Milord”  With that, you glide onto the dance floor, arm and arm with the young bachelor.  You think to yourself, Is he really this easy going and informal?.  

Later in the night, the question of Robert Anderson is answered when he brings a guitar out from his drawing room and begins to play.  The song is a silly one, with lots of “Do Da’s” in it.  You and everybody else at the party were laughing till the party ended.  As you were exiting the mansion with your stumbling brother, Robert strolls towards you and asks, “Would you like to go to dinner with me on Friday?”

“I would.”  You answer, looking into his bright, blue eyes.

“Perfect, I will pick you up at six.”  You walk away, your heart fluttering with happiness.

***

Only a few months later, Robert decides to propose to you.  Although you do enjoy his company, you feel no love for him and tell your mother that you wish to decline his offer.

“Absolutely not, Virginia!  This is exactly what we wanted, what you wanted.  You are going to say yes to that man!”  She shouts at you.

“Fine!  But don’t expect any invitation!”  You yell, furious that she doesn’t care about your happiness.  You stomp away and dial the phone to call Robert.

“Hello.”  He says, confused about who is calling so late at night.

“Let’s get married”  You say, faking joy.

“Really!”  He exclaims, “I’ll come by your house tomorrow so we can plan.”

“No, I mean now.”  You explain, wanting to spite your mother.

“I can’t do that, not to my family or yours.  They would never forgive us for eloping.”

“No!  I mean now!”  You scream, wishing that you could just hurt your mother in some way.

“Something isn’t right, I am going to go to your house tomorrow and we can figure this out.”  Robert says, remaining calm yet infuriating you.  He hangs up and you wail.  Realizing now that in the world you live in, people expect conformity.  And although you wished for that before, time and time again, you will never be that.