As a kid I remember my Grandmother's's visits as being a time to leave the house before she was out of bed. If I stayed around, I might be called on to'lace her up' into her whalebone corset.

I abhorred this process as it always looked horribly cruel and I loved my Nana a lot. Wrapping her into a tight package on a hot day looked so unnecessarily cruel. I could never understand why she would ask me to try this to her as we lived way out in the Australian bush and we seldom saw any one.

there had been only the five of us and 6 if she counted herself.
And sure enough, there was always enough 'shoe-lace' rope left dangling regardless of how beautifully I tied the bow, for her to unleash herself each night in the privacy of her own room.
perhaps that was when I made an especially comatose decision that I might never, ever do that to myself regardless of what. But someone wiser than me invented the garter belt for my age.
Now garter ( often referred to as suspender belts ) had a mind of their own too and were never comfy to wear.

How right she was. That back clip was situated right where I sat down and it stuck into my rear end. If I had been a pony I frequently thought I would've been made more content but instead I was practicing to become a young lady.

Now the garter belt was bad enough on it's own but when it combined with those wretched thick brown stockings designed for young school girls, the pain intensified. Those brown stockings so constantly loved by Girl's School headmistresses, were designed by men as an instrument of torture. They twisted around young girls legs like manacles. And they were held decisively twisted by the garter jailer.

But time moves on and I finally left college and went into the workforce where we wore correct nylon stockings each day. If you ever got to bathe a pair twice you were doing exceptionally well and I would have to ask'How the heck did you manage to do that?'
But time moved on again and some male engineers became more inquisitive about the particular physical challenge of the stocking as well as basically helping women overcome their stocking discomfort.

These stockings had a row of five elasticated glue rings round the top that were designed to stick to a lady's thigh to hold the stockings up. They worked to a degree but many women were not able to wear them as the glue/tightness/thigh strangling/blood flow inhibiter qualities in the design just about caused many girls to have leg amputations.

It makes me quail recollecting the itch and especially one that I was not able to scrape in public.

Arh, the sanctified relief at last! The first time i wore a couple of pantyhose I knew that they were here to stay. And so they have, are and may be for some time to come. Now they're available in all colours, sizes, thicknesses and prices.
I occasionally wonder though what my Nana would think of my'ladylike qualities' by wearing a pair of black nylon pantyhose stockings. I just wish she might have lived to see the day.
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