Filene's Basement

Some time ago, I saw on the TV news that Filene's Department Store in Boston had 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. Being with his wife, he tried to be subtle, and he hated it when I caught him looking at other women.

While we've been to a number of clothing-optional beaches, I am not an overt exhibitionist. A clothing store is a different venue, so I tried to either avoid trying things on at all or try them on right over my clothing. Though I must admit, I have on other occasions shed my shorts or jeans to try on slacks.

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. So, when dressing for the day, I was on autopilot getting ready for a casual day. 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 since Dave also liked them, I was ready to try them on. As usual, I had opted to just put them on right over my clothing. I quickly realized it was not going to work. The sweater was simply too bulky for these form-fitting dresses to fit over. Even the jeans were likely going to be a problem to determine if the dresses were a right fit. Though we'd be in-town for several days, these were end-of-the-season and deep-discount items, and 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 unabashed roving eyes. One woman had worn a fairly sheer white bra that left nothing to the imagination, and her nipples were well on display as she deftly tried on a front-button blouse.

In addition to the racks of clothing usually on display, I noticed today that they had a "bargain bin" full of $8.00 bras. One middle-aged woman shopper was vigorously 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 dare to try some on. Sure enough, that's exactly what she was about to do. I noticed her looking around to see who might be close enough to see.

Dave tried to play his best clandestine self, hoping to be invisible to her. It must have worked, when 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 to me. He was not successful. I know Dave like most men wouldn't miss a chance to see a naked or half-naked woman, and I'm generally OK with that. But the intrusive nature of his looking at this woman felt like he was trespassing on what she would generally reserve for her husband.

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 not too far from us, pretending to look for something, presumably for his wife. He was about our age and pretty good-looking too.

I figured he too might have been enjoying the "show," although he wasn't being too obvious and certainly not obnoxious about it. Thinking about Dave's attraction to other women today, I paraphrased an old saying to tell myself "what's good for the gander should be good for the goose."

I made intentional eye contact with him, and we traded playful, if not outright flirtatious 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 awareness of his intentions, along with my acquiescence to his watching me.

My mind played with the circumstances of the moment. I wasn't 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 debated if I was actually 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. That became a challenge I was now ready to meet.

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 taunt, if not an outright dare to me. Again, that earlier mischievous impulse came over me.

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 wanted 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 spellbound attention of my unknown admirer.

I kicked off my shoes and shed my jeans very matter-of-factly and stood in my 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 "performance" 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 or lose the sexual chemistry of the moment. His being there was certainly the compelling part of my being excited, and I was pretty sure it was the motivating factor in Dave's behavior too.

So, I enjoyed the sensuous moments as I tried on the two dresses. I took my time changing, so my audience got a double feature show, before getting back into my sweater and jeans. At that point my secret admirer left, and we were 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 put him on the spot and replied, "You sure 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 thoughtfully, "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 at least one 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.