Barry sat on the edge of his bed, grumbling. "I look ridiculous."
"Sweetheart, you look wonderful. Really." His moher assured him soothingly.
He just groaned loudly and planted his muzzle in his paws. He looked like the mascot from some Easter Chocolate commercial. After the life changing and traumatic event he'd been subjected to, he was given 1 gracious day of rest before he was expected to return to his normal routine, and half of that was taken up shopping for clothes. He wasn't sure if it was his parents idea, or if it had been a recommendation from the clinic to return to normalcy, but he suspected the latter. The brochures he had been handed made the same recommendation. "Don't avoid your usual friends and routines. These days, being Changed is a normal part of life. Even an unexpected outcome won't prevent you from being you. Some changes may have to be made, but keep living your normal life!" If only he could, Barry lamented.
Clothes shopping had been... Unwanted, Awkward, Certainly embarrassing, but not altogether fruitless. The brochure provided only limited usefulness.
"For some changed, especially those with fur, scales, feathers, or shells, clothing can be completely optional! Often times what you wear is determined by your own health, comfort, and the social expectations of your surroundings, rather than a need for decency." Barry thought of Susan and suddenly realized she wore no skirt covering herself. Her entire lower mermaid half had been completely exposed... She was basically naked from the waist down, but he never even thought it strange. "Generally, the more human your appearance, the more clothing you are expected to wear..." 'So I should wear the normal amount of clothing, Barry lied to himself. "Otherwise, your fur, scales, feathers or shells can be considered a bit like wearing a layer of pajama's." Pajama's you can't take off, Barry snidely thought. "There are a few different rules for comfort and health that we'll discuss below." The list continued, offering tips to prevent rashes and ingrown hairs, as well as grooming tips for short haired Changed, long haired Changed, shaving options for both and more, but Barry left most of that to his mom. Thinking so clinically about his circumstances made it too real for him.
He had walked along side the buggy at the market, but his mom had offered to let him ride multiple times. He suspected it was because he moved so much slower than she was used to walking, but the image of riding the buggy like a kid was too much to even consider, no matter how convenient it might be. She had eased him into things, going to the "mens" section of the super market first. Unsurprisingly nothing even came close to fitting him, so they moved to the "boys" section. Fortunately, he still had fairly normal pick of shirts. Plain colored T's, rock band graphic T's, sweaters. He avoided the obnoxious and gimmicky stuff like the plague. "Like a Boss." One black shirt said in bold white lettering. "Wild Child" said another. "Sorry Not Sorry" was next to it. The cringy meme shirts were only trumped by the Fortnite and Roblox shirts for ruining any chance at being seen as an adult. Fortunately, some kids wanted to look like adults, and that, sort of, played in his favor. There were a lot of graphic T's for band's from the 70s - 90s that no modern kid actually grew up with. He hadn't either, but he at least knew who they were. Red Hot Chili Pepper's, AC/DC, Pink Floyd. These shirts gave him an air of maturity that his cartoon rabbit body desperately needed.
What didn't play in his favor were any kind of normal pants. Jeans were out of the question. At his own insistence, he had tried more then a few. He couldn't even walk in the tight ones. The baggy ones were just as inconvenient. The one pair that sort-of kind-of fit his legs were totally foiled by his (proportionately) mature young woman hips. No matter how he tried, the buttons on the little girl jeans just wouldn't reach.
"Shorts had their own problem, as they couldn't be pulled too high thanks to his fluffy tail, but thanks to his wide hips, they kept sliding down his more slender thighs. The brochure talked about cutting a hole just below the wasteband, or anchoring them up with suspender like elastics, but neither seemed like a particularly comfortable option to Barry, as both would put the weigh on his tail, which he could tell was sensitive.
"You know, sweetheart, maybe you don't have to..."
"MOM! Do. Not. finish that sentence." Barry had stammered. "I'm not going bottomless."
"Don't get short with me, young man..." She paused a second as she wondered if she had addressed him quite right. She shook the though from her mind, and continued. "I'm just trying to help you think about this. If you don't want to wear pants, You should think about going without. I don't think that would be out of line." She contemplated the mental image with patient understanding, but her face betrayed clear distress by the concept of her son... daughter... not wearing anything below her waste. Somewhat tentatively she proposed, "OR dresses are always an option too."
"Mom!" He shouted again. "That's even worse."
"No, it's not. You are a girl now, It would be perfectly normal to wear them, especially with how your legs and feet are now."
He looked down at the oversized sweats that had been safety pinned into place around his waste, and then rolled up to allow his slender bare padded feet access to the ground.
"At the very least, we're going to go look." She insisted, her eyes intense, giving no room for compromise.
Barry walked with her, but Barry did not look. Any time she praised something, or talked about how good he would look in something, he simply glared down and refused to even acknowledge it.
"I know this isn't what you expected when you went into that clinic, but this attitude is not going to fly." She finally huffed. "I already told you we can call a seamstress about tailoring some pants but that's going to take... oh..." She stopped midsentence, and then smiled. "What about this?"
Curious, Barry looked up. "What! No way. I'm not some cartoon farm animal!"
"Sweetie, it's perfectly normal, I bet they'll fit great! And besides, tomboys wear stuff like this all the time."
"I'm not a tomboy, mom."
"Come on, it'll look great with just a simple T, and it won't irritate your tail."
"Mom I told you I'm absolutely not going to wear that under any circumstance."
And so Barry sat on the edge of his bed wearing cute Suzie Blue overall shorts over a grey Aerosmith band shirt. A hole had been cut in the back to allow his oversized tail freedom to wiggle all it wished, to the infinite annoyance of Barry who wanted to tape the damn thing down. The teen girl section at least had more options. Darker washes, worn styles with bleach fades, Even a pair of black punk overall shorts which didn't seem too bad. But no. None of those would fit him. He got the little girls clothes, and they came in Bright blue, brighter blue, white, and pink. He had chosen the least of four evils, and ended up looking like she'd just stepped off the farm. All she needed was a big straw hat.
"Decision time." His mother stated. "Bus or car."
Yesterday it had technically been considered HIS car. Or at least... Once he payed for half of it with a summer job it would have been his car, but now even driving was almost totally out of the question. Another brochure had recommended everything from motor scooters to Extension and boxes to make a regular car more useable. Both of those options felt patronizing at the moment.
"Car" He relented, and padded after her.
