Nylon Stockings
It was January, 1957. I was thirteen. And I was about to become a grown-up girl…at least, in my mind. Several older friends, including Other Brenda and Suzanne, had begun wearing hose the year before and, though I begged Mama to allow me to do the same, she refused. Mama said I was too young for hose and I had to continue wearing the childish lace-trimmed anklets for another year! I was mortified – and the feeling was made worse by Suzanne repeatedly asking Other Brenda to check and see if her seams were straight.
My big moment finally arrived on Christmas morning of 1956. My big present that year was an entire new “outfit” for church and dress-up. There was a red and black plaid dress with a black tie at the neck, black velvet dress shoes with grosgrain ribbon ties over the toes and tiny 1.5” heels. But the crowning touch to this beautiful ensemble was a garter belt and nylon stockings! I was so happy I cried and called Suzanne before I opened the rest of my presents.
Mama said I should save these for the church Youth Rally coming up in two weeks. The days dragged, but every night I practiced pulling on the garter belt with its little blue rosette trim until I learned to perfectly snap the straps into place so the hose would not wrinkle at the top. Next, I would slip on the velvet “heels “ and practice walking in them from the living room door, down the hall to the telephone table at the end. Daddy told Mama if I didn’t stop I would wear holes in the hallway runner. The night of the youth program I began my bath and ‘getting ready’ at four in the afternoon. You see, it was being held at a church located an hour away so we had to leave by 6 p.m. I finished my toilette by carefully applying my “First Blush” matching nail polish and lipstick and dabbing drops of Mama’s “White Shoulders” cologne behind my ears.
There would be a total of seven church youth groups in attendance and among them would be Raymond Clinton, that year’s president. He had secretly been the object of my affection since the past September when he asked me to carry one of the banners in the processional.
Well, I never knew or not if Raymond noticed the big change in my appearance that night, but I certainly felt as if I had aged tremendously. I was no longer a child wearing Mary Janes with lace trimmed anklets but a young “Junior Miss” (a term I had learned from Seventeen Magazine) wearing “heels” and hose with seams up the back! I was on a cloud.
Now, after so many years, those nylon hose began to lose their luster. I wore them throughout high school for church and other dressy events but soon became tired of hooking up the old garter belt and asking someone to check and see if my seams were straight.
In college we even wore hose with tennis shoes and Bass loafers until mini-skirts came on the scene and, with these, a new miracle in leg wear—tights and PANTY HOSE! What a blessing just to be able to pull them on without all the snapping and fretting about seams and runners. The panty hose were made of a new material that made them more resistant to runs. For the next sixty years, these were a staple in my bureau drawer. Did I ever get a run in one leg and cut a second non-run leg off another pair and wear both together when a crisis arose? Yes, I admit I have done that. Did I ever get in a hurry at night and wash only the feet of the pair before hanging them over the shower curtain bar to dry? Yes, I admit to having done that, too, on occasion.
During all my teaching years I wore hose with pointy toe high heels daily--reasons for my bunions today?? While working as a relocation agent, my Houston real estate office had a rule we were to wear dresses or suits with hose and heels even if we were on phone duty and never left the office. “If we are to sell quality properties we are to appear as quality agents” our brokers often reminded us. (Just a bit of trivia here!)
Three years ago I served as a bridesmaid for a relative’s wedding. While in the bride’s dressing room, one of the maids complained that she knew she would have a blister the next day because her left shoe was too tight. I spoke up, “Well, just wait until you put on your hose and the shoe will fit more easily.” All the others in the room stared at me in amazement. Another maid spoke through a giggle, “Oh, Aunt Brenda, don’t you KNOW no one wears hose any longer!” I was shocked at the moment but soon joined the freedom of the herd. Today I go stockingless, too, except in winter when I don a pair of tights. And, during the summer, I rub on a coat of Jergen’s “Glow” that gives my legs a hint of tan. Ahhh, the sweet relief! No more Control top panty hose to bind me. No more seams to check. Just me and the breeze on my legs as I go from bonds to freedom. So, dare to join us Modern Day Chicks, fellow mature readers—you don’t know what you’ve been missing! (Thank you, Elaine Thomas, for suggesting I explore this topic!)
Contact Brenda at: brenstar@att.net