Filene's Basement

A while ago, now, I saw on the TV news that Filene's Department Store in Boston has gone bankrupt and closed. This reminded me of a previous experience I had there a number of years ago with my husband, Dave. I guess this was an example of "accidental nudity" for others, or maybe "unplanned nudity" for me. We were in Boston for a long weekend prior to my having a business meeting there. We both had been there before, but not for quite some time, and we were looking forward to great dining, shopping, the Freedom Trail, and just walking around downtown. After breakfast on Saturday morning, we meandered around the Commons a while, then decided to shop until it was time for a late lunch.

We went into Filene's, where I always found some bargains I can't seem to find at home. In the second basement, where the best bargains are found, there was a local tradition that women didn't want to wait for the very few dressing rooms, so they just tried things on right out in the aisles between the racks. It was kind of a "who cares" attitude and it wasn't uncommon to see women in their bras and panties or somehow less than fully dressed as they inspected their prospective purchases. Since this tradition was pretty well known, it also attracted a certain number of male "gawkers" who found this public display of female skin and lingerie to be an easy, cheap thrill. There had been times where I'd have to admit my husband might very well have fit into that category. He tried to be subtle, and he hated it when I caught him.

I am not an overt exhibitionist, so I tried to either avoid trying things on at all or try them on right over my clothing, though I had on a few occasions shed my jeans to try on pants. Dave has always given me a hard time about being so prudish and self-conscious, especially when, as he points out, I virtually know no one in the whole city. Plus, he reminded me Boston is a pretty liberal place and invites a "when in Rome..." attitude. Nonetheless, I've usually resisted his taunts and gone through my painful ritual of exposing nothing more than necessary to the aspiring voyeurs lurking around to sneak a peek.

This year it was fall and now quite cool in the mornings, so I wore a cable knit sweater and jeans. Being a "small on top" woman, when not at work I usually go without a bra, and today was no exception. As we shopped, I found that most of the things that were on sale were the left-over lighter weight summer fashions, including some silk dresses I really liked.

Soon I had selected two and was ready to try them on. As usual, I had opted to just put them on right over my clothing. It was not going to work. The sweatshirt was simply too bulky for these form-fitting dresses to fit over. Even the jeans were going to be a problem to determine if the dresses were a right fit. Being these were end of the season and deep-discount items, they couldn't be returned. I knew I'd have to try them on to be sure they would work for me.

We had been shopping for nearly an hour, and Dave had already been treated to four or five of the women around us stripping down to their "unmentionables." While he found this quite delightful, I was not so impressed with his overtly roving eyes. One woman had worn a fairly sheer bra that left nothing to the imagination, and her nipples were well on display as she tried on a top. In addition to the racks of clothing usually on display, I noticed today that they had a "bargain bin" full of bras. And one woman shopper was going through them obviously looking for the right size and style for her. Dave also noticed this, and no doubt was wondering if she would need to try some on. Sure enough, that's exactly what she was about to do. I noticed her looking around to see who was close enough to see. Then off came her top and bra, as she tried on several new items with lightning speed. Dave was clearly impressed with the show while painfully trying not to be obvious, at least to me. He was not successful.

While the other shoppers were not quite as risqué, they were uninhibited enough to be comfortable being half-undressed in the presence of men in the area, including Dave. As all this was going on there was one other guy standing close to us, pretending to look for something, presumably for his wife. He was about our age and pretty good-looking. I figured he too had been enjoying the "show," although he wasn't being too obvious and certainly not obnoxious about it. I made intentional eye contact with him, and we traded playful, if not a little bit flirty smiles. He had now clearly focused his attention on me, and I was pretty sure he was looking to see how I was going to try on the two dresses. My coquettish grin must have signaled my recognition of his intentions, and my acquiescence to his watching me.

While I wasn't too happy with the circumstances of the moment, I wasn't at all amused by Dave's "overly-noticing" these other women; plus, I was very frustrated by not being able to put the dresses on over my clothes. So, I again looked around to see if there were any dressing rooms in the area and found none. While I still wasn't quite ready to let down my inhibitions enough to just follow the local customs, I looked at Dave, and his expression told me that he was not nearly sensitive enough to my predicament.

By this time, my flirtatious friend having sensed my dilemma now saw that something was going on between Dave and me. He avoided more eye-contact, all the while maintaining his position to not miss anything. This was not lost on my husband. The smirk on his face and shrugged shoulders became a challenge, if not an outright dare to me. Suddenly a mischievous impulse came over me as I looked at Dave and said very calmly, "OK, you think all this is pretty funny, don't you?"

With that I laid the dresses over a rack and pulled my sweater off over my head. I think I caught Dave and this other guy totally by surprise, but no one was more startled than I when I was rudely reminded of the fact that I hadn't worn a bra. The guy who'd been waiting around near us certainly got way more that he was expecting. I wasn't sure if Dave had remembered my being braless either, but with his snide attitude, I was ready for him to believe that I knew exactly what I was doing and for him to feel the discomfort which had been mine alone. This unexpected exposure brought my very sensitive nipples to full length as I reveled in the captivated attention of my unknown admirer.

I kicked off my shoes and shed my jeans very matter-of-factly and stood in my socks and sheer bikini panties as I put the first dress on. Our new-found friend tried to appear as if he were still looking at the clothing racks as his eyes were obviously riveted on my every move. Dave started to move between the two of us to block the guy's view, but I instantly told him quietly to "Stay right where you are, and don't say one word."

As I continued my "show" I found myself getting increasingly turned-on knowing my A+ breasts (my husband's description) were stunningly displayed in public and clearly the object of at least one other man's wanton admiration. I probably could have leered at the guy, and he would have left, but I really didn't want to change the sexual chemistry of the moment. His being there was certainly part of my being excited, and I was pretty sure it played a part in Dave's behavior too.

So, I enjoyed the moments as I tried on the two dresses and then got back into my sweatshirt and jeans. At that point my secret admirer had left, and we were left alone as I went through a pretty anticlimactic decision as to which dress to buy. I asked Dave's opinion, and I don't really think he much cared. "I guess I really don't need either of them," I replied without much enthusiasm, but I didn't want to see the sensual investment I'd made in trying them on go to waste. I decided to buy the more revealing of the two as a fitting memento of our Boston trip.

With that, we left and walked back to the Commons and sat on a bench not talking for some time. Finally, he asked, with a slightly smug tone, "Well, how did you enjoy your Filene's shopping experience?"

I wasn't sure exactly what to say, mostly because I hadn't done a postmortem on my own feelings yet. So, I tried to get off the hot seat and asked him, "You seemed to be enjoying yourself with the full cast of performers."

"Since I'd award you the Oscar for Best Actress in a Leading Role, maybe you should tell me your thoughts first?"

"OK," I said with a lot of consideration, "I'll tell you exactly what I was feeling. First, you seem to like looking at other women so much, I assumed you must be OK with me returning the favor for other men. Second, I really did want to try the dresses on, and the damn store doesn't give you much choice. And third, I figured 'piss-on-it,' I really didn't know anyone in the store any way."

"I think there's a fourth feeling you forgot to mention, and I know because I was feeling it too, and that's excitement. You were as aroused showing yourself as I was watching," Dave offered lovingly.

At the store I was a lot more emotional than I had expected to be, mainly because he had pushed me further than I, and maybe he too, wanted things to go. I could have been more discreet if I'd wanted to and let him move between me and our voyeur friend. So, he asked me point blank why I hadn't wanted him to shield me from the other guy.

"It wouldn't have made my point about your watching the other women, if I hadn't been visible to some other man. And you are right about that fourth feeling, I was aroused. When I saw the expression on that guy's face as he looked at my bare breasts, I did feel like the most beautiful, sexy woman on Earth and deserving that Academy Award you offered me."

I learned or finally admitted a couple of things that day. First, I would have never expected my irritation at his looking at other women to take priority over my natural inhibitions to being seen myself. And second, I got a whole new perspective about how exciting it was to show off in public.