I grew up in England during the 1970s.
I was born 12 November 1961 in Northwest England. Started infants Sept
1966, moved to Juniors Sept 1969, and Grammar school Sept 1973.
I attended the local infant school from age 4 to
7. It was mixed, and all boys wore grey shorts, other than that there
were no uniform requirements. Girls could wear anything, but they all
wore dresses or skirts. No girl ever wore trousers or shorts, it was
unthinkable. The boys all wore long socks, usually grey, but
sometimes patterned fawn or brown, even black. We never wore white
socks, only girls wore white socks. The girls did wear tights, thick
woolly things, never nylons.
I recall one winter, when aged seven, a
group of us boys were standing around complaining to each other that
the girls had tights which covered their legs, but we had bare
thighs. This is the only time that I can recall discussing
clothing with other children. At home mum would rub some greasy
substance onto our thighs, the shorts had a rough hem which rubbed
the tender skin between our legs, I can remember crying with pain,
and walking bow-legged on a wet windy day. The rain was worst, I did
not mind the frost or snow, but wet legs in short pants was horrid.
The rain would sting as it lashed onto delicate flesh, and my coat
was not long enough to reach my socks. Sometimes I would walk behind
an adult, so close that I might step onto their heels.
From the age
of six we went to school alone, it was shameful to be taken by your
mum, only babies were taken to school. Any kid who arrived holding
his mother's hand would have died with embarassment.
My worst day at
Infant school was when I lost control, and filled my pants at
lunchtime. Oh, how I cried as the dinner ladies stripped my shorts &
underpants, then cleaned me up. They rinsed my clothes and put them
into a bag, then dressed me in spare shorts from a cupbord. The
shorts were too big, and I felt awful. After school I had to go to my
Grandad's house, mum was working. I did not want Grandad to know
about the accident, so I hid the bag behind the toilet. When My dad
came to collect me, I rushed to the loo & collected the bag. I never
knew if Grandad had seen what I was up to, he probably did, but never
mentioned it. Mum had to wash the borrowed shorts and I returned them
the next day, feeling quite relieved to hand them over, it marked the
end of the episode.
School started in September, and my birthday is November, so I was one
of the oldest kids in the class. At age seven we moved to the Junior school, same clothing rules,
shorts for boys, skirts for girls. The girls had a separate
playground, what joy. We would occasionally push a lad through the
gap into the girls yard, and he would dash back looking all
embarrassed. On rare occasions we might run through their yard, but
the big girls would trip us or catch us and pin us down then send for
a dinner lady. Dangerous sports, if caught the dinner ladies would
make us stand in the corner of the girls yard, and several girls
would tease us.
Despite the fact that elementary schools were coed, we had little to
do with the girls. We virtually never spoke to the girls. They sat at their own tables
in class, used a different yard at playtime. I hardly knew any of
their names.
I hardly ever went to church, only weddings & christenings. I can
only recall one occasion when I had shorts for a wedding, there were
probably others but at the time it did not seem important. I did not
have a shortpants suit, all my shorts were school grey with a white
lining.
In 1971 the oldest boys could wear long
trousers, just the boys in the fourth year, those about to go up to
secondary school. There was no set rule, it was custom & practise. My
brother went into longs in September of his last year, and I asked
mum for longs. She gave in on my ninth birthday, and I became the only
kid in the second year of juniors to have longs. I don't remember arguement, in terms of constructive logical
reasoning. I just asked, and asked, and asked. Maybe "it's not fair
if he has longs" or "why do I have to wear shorts?" and definitely
"aw, mum!" My brother who had to wearvshorts at my age was really
irritated. He told mum I should be put back into shorts several
times over the next three years.
I never wore shorts
again for school, but some kids wore them right up to their last day.
I recall talking to one lad, when we were both eleven. He had worn
longs, but was now back in shorts for the summer term. I asked him
how he felt, and he said he prefered the shorts. I was jealous, but
too embarrassed to ask my mum if I could wear shorts, I secretly
hoped she might put me in them, but she never did.
In september 1973 I went to the Grammmar school (academically
selective secondary school). The uniform list said "Trousers-grey. If a boy is to wear shorts they should be
grey." No boy turned up on his first day in shorts, but half of us
wore our caps. The list said we had to have them. I loved mine, I was
so proud of qualifying for the Grammar school that I wore it every
day for weeks. On that first day the Deputy Head came out and
summoned all of the boys who were wearing caps. He said that we could
remove them as not many boys wore them now. I used to keep mine in my
pocket, and put it on at the gate. Twenty five years later I still
have it. One boy did come to school in shorts, a few years later. It
was during the hot summmer of 1976, and we were 14 by now. He
got teased all day and never did it again. I think we were all scared
that if he did it, we might be forced into shorts, and in those days
shortpants were a symbol of juvenile status, an item of mockery &
humiliation.
At home I never wore shorts, not even in the summer, from age 7.
On schooldays I stayed in shorts all day, at weekends it was jeans.
I have one photo of my brother & I attending a wedding in blue
cardigans & grey shorts, I would be eight at most. Other than that
there were no shorts, apart from cubs.
I went to cubs from age 7
to my 11th birthday, and wore shorts every time. I used to love
ironing my shorts, getting a crease down the front and back, then
putting them on still boiling hot from the iron. One day, when I was
10, the cub pack went on a day out. I went in my shorts, and was
shocked to see every other boy in longs. I had not heard Akela say
that we could wear longs, and there was no time to go home to change.
No one teased me about it.
Not that I recall anyway. None of them mentioned it, I just felt embarrased.
We went to a forest, and met boys from 20 other packs. We played all
day, and I was glad to see at least some of the others were in shorts
as well. At the end of the day we all sat on the grass in a big
circle, in a clearing in the forest. We played a game which was new
to me, called "The Vicar of Bray". Each boy had a number, and the
story was that the Vicar's cap was missing. When a boy called your
number, you had to stand, make a speech denying guilt, then accuse
another boy. There were loads of rules, about getting the speech
wrong, choosing a wrong number, being too slow, and so on. Breeching
any rule implied guilt, and the culprit had to go up for a smack.
My part of town was quite a poor area. We did not know anything
about "private" schools until aged 12. I was in my Grammar school chess team.
We played an away match against a private school, and my opponent was
in shortpants. I was delighted, thinking that he must be a junior,
and I would win easily. He beat me. The lad was my age, 12. He was
the only boy in their team who was in shorts that day, it was in
February of 1974, and there was icy fog.
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