Figure 1.--The author With his brother Arthur at the time of his sister Mary's wedding in 1924 or 1925. He's wearing the knicker suit he disliked so much.

When I was very young all boys wore short pants. For a time I also wore button shoes that came just above the ankles. But around l924-25, when I was about ten or eleven, boys of my age began to wear long pants. So as the skirts went up for girls and young women (one wag said they couldn't get much shorter because the end was soon in sight!), the pants went down for the boys, down nearly to the floor. The cuffs also became wider, almost to the end of the shoe. Bell-bottom trousers, which had long been standard attire for the Navy enlisted personnel, became the latest in fashion for the young males. My next oldest brother even had a pair. Presidents Coolidge and Hoover, however, defied the trend and retained their narrow cuffs.

As bib-overalls were standard for every day wear, and dress short pants were only worn on Sundays or on special occasions such as a school play, I had not been greatly concerned about the length of my pants— that is, until girls, particularly one girl, began to attract my attention. When that girl gave me my first kiss one school day, I felt as if my heart had hit the back of my throat. And, of course, interest in a girl also raised the possibility of competition, in this case with a boy in the same class as I. He was one of the first boys in the intermediate grades to wear long pants, and I feared they might give him an advantage. It was also about this time that my feet seemed to be growing faster than any other part of me, so much so that they stuck out awkwardly at the bottom of my legs. Not only were my rival's feet much shorter, but the bell bottom trousers he began to wear made them look even smaller.

My mother, with a large family and little money, took a very traditional approach when it came to clothes. I was only about eleven or twelve, and in her mind boys did not wear long pants until they were confirmed in the Lutheran Church at around fourteen or fifteen. Consequently, when it came time for me to have a new suit, she decided I must have short pants. [HBC note: The writer here uses short pants to mean knickers.]

I thought otherwise, especially when I looked at my feet and thought of that other boy with his bell bottom trousers. But how to get long pants, without openly defying my mother, was another matter. I finally decided on a form of quiet non-cooperation. I exhaled when she measured my chest, and slouched when she measured me for height and length. But she simply ignored my sulking manner and matter-of-factly went about writing down the measurements required by the form in the mail-order catalog. (My family sent away for many of its clothes this way. In addition to the wider selection in the catalog, the prices were lower than in the local store).

We were only a mile from town, and therefore did not have the usual rural mail box by the side of the road, so when a box came to us about two weeks later, it came through the local post office. When I opened the box at home, there was the suit with the short pants. Although the cloth had that new smell I liked, and my mother praised the suit, I was not eager to wear it. There was no escape, however. Hard earned money had been spent for the suit and it had to be worn. I reluctantly put it on, and, to my great discomfiture, the fit was perfect.

A short time later there was to be an evening social event at our local school, which was about five and one half miles from our farm. As was the custom in our family for all such occasions, our best clothes were to be worn. And for me that meant the suit with the short pants. I felt exposed and miserable, particularly when I thought of that other boy with his snappy- looking bell bottom trousers and his small feet. I was afraid the girl we were both after would not even look at me. Her mother always dressed her in a variety of clothes of the latest style, with skirts well above the knees.

Once the evening program at the school was over the children were free to run and play through the different rooms of the building. Until then I had managed to remain inconspicuous, hidden in the seated audience. When everyone began to move about, however, I decided the humiliation was just too great. I went into the cloak room just off my class room, and quietly remained there until it was time to go home with my parents.

My mother apparently had observed my misery, which I did not try to hide. She relented, and said I could have some long pants that she would make from a pair of bell bottom trousers that one of my older brothers had been wearing. They were gray with a black pin stripe.

Figure 1.--The author is seen here at age fourteen, in 1928 wear a long pants suit.

My mother was a good seamstress and the trousers fit perfectly, even to the wide cuffs that came right to the toe of my shoes. No piece of clothing has ever pleased me so much. In my graphic imagination, the young girl would have eyes only for me. Never again would I go into the cloak room just to avoid being seen by my friends. Warm feelings toward my mother quickly returned.

Eddie Schodt