Dear Matron
I wore short trousers at 17 because my mother demanded it. I went to a small private boys boarding school in East Anglia in the 1960's which I attended as a day boy as it was only a few miles from where we lived. Short trousers were compulsory for all boys up to and including Fifth Form (that is, 16+ years old). Nearly all Sixth Form boys wore long trousers but this was left to the discretion of mother who decided to keep me dressed in shorts, because, much to her disappointment, I had to repeat the Fourth Form.
I wore shorts at all times, not just for school but on weekends and during the school holidays. Outside of school I usually wore school uniform which included a red blazer and a cap.
The wearing of school caps was compulsory wear for all boys in the Sixth Form except prefects. Since I was not a prefect, I wore a cap up until I left school at 19. We wore red caps with two yellow concentric rings. and the standard grey turnover top knee socks with two red bands on the turnover and looked the archetypal schoolboy.
From the age of 16, my mother kept my legs (and my pubic region) hairless by waxing because she preferred me to be like that, I protested that I was being teased but mother ignored me, insisting upon me having smooth legs. I often felt embarrassed and humiliated having to wear short trousers but as a dutiful son meekly complied, but from about the age of 17, I not only resented wearing them but I was bullied for doing so. I would get false compliments about how smart I looked in my short trousers and school uniform and comments about what a good little boy I was. These remarks always gave me a sense of shame, for which 17-year-old likes being told that he looked, “sweet and boyish.”
After I left school and up to the age of 25 I was regularly dressed in short trousers and school uniform by my mother. This could be anything from a few days to a whole month. My mothers logic was that if I insisted on behaving like a naughty little boy I should be dressed like one. It was of course, humiliating and I felt timid and childish but my mother insisted that it was perfectly acceptable for a boy in his teens or early twenties to be dressed in very short trousers, school knee length turnover top socks, and school blazer and cap.
I remained at home studying for a degree by means of a home study correspondence course. My mother did not want me to attend university as this would mean my gaining a measure of independence and a loosening of her control. By having me take a home study course I could remain in the house completely under her influence and discipline. Consequently, throughout this time it was easy for her to dress me in short trousers and school uniform as a punishment.
The frequency and duration of these punishments increased rather than diminished with age. It was as though my mother wanted to instil in me that despite my advancing years I was still only a little boy.
At the end of the three and half years of home study, I started working in an office. I was never sent to work in short trousers but over the next two years, my mother continued to impose the punishment at home and for some trips outside of the house. The only difference was that now during a punishment period I would be dressed by my mother in my short trousers and school uniform as soon as I arrived home from work and would spend the early evenings, weekends, and some holidays like this.
Throughout my time in school uniform, my mother's little boy rules also included early bedtimes. From my teens up to the age of 21 my bedtime was 8 pm, then, after my 21st I was allowed to stay up an extra hour and not put to bed until 9 pm although bedtime would often be earlier if I was considered to have been naughty. if my mother were having visitors and wanted me out of the way I would often be put to bed as early as 6.30 pm. I was never allowed to stay up late - that was for grown-ups. On such occasions, I was bathed by my mother and put into my pyjamas ready to greet her guests before immediately being told to say goodnight and sent up to bed.
Up to the age of 25, I was regularly taken by my mother to a nearby school outfitters to get new items of school uniform including my standard grey school short trousers. I would be taken in school uniform and would have to try on several pairs of shorts in the changing room. With each new pair, I would then have to parade in front of my mother and the female shop assistants for their comments. This would also be seen by other customers, usually with small boys and their sisters, who would often smirk and smile at the sight of an obviously much older boy still in short trousers.
My mother never hid my age from the shop assistants and would explain that I had to be dressed as a little boy because I persisted in behaving like one. The assistants were always very helpful to my mother and seemed to enjoy kitting me out in my school uniform and new pyjamas. The owner of the shop - a middle-aged woman - would supervise and would comment on what a smart schoolboy I was and how sweet I looked in short trousers. She, nor any of her assistants, ever queried with my mother as to why a man in his twenties was wearing such a juvenile outfit, rather, they appeared to be in full agreement with my mother choices.
My mother did not allow me to go out with girls and I was allowed no contact with the opposite sex. Little boys, after all, did not have girlfriends. We did, however, attend church each Sunday and I sometimes helped tidy the church after the service. It was on such occasion that I became friendly with Wendy who also helped tidy the church with her mother. Wendy was 17 but still a schoolgirl. In order to prevent any chance of a relationship developing my mother invited Wendy and her mother over for afternoon tea one Saturday afternoon and I had to serve the tea in my school uniform and short trousers before being changed into my blue and white striped pyjamas in front of Wendy and her mother.
My mother explained that I was being sent to bed early for being naughty. Wendy obviously found my appearance in short trousers then pyjamas highly amusing and to this day refuses to take me seriously and teases me dreadfully asking if I have been a good little boy and is it nearly my bedtime.
I found the whole experience of my youth and adolescence disturbing and now I am alone after mother passed away, I find it difficult to live a normal life and find myself wishing she was still here to help me even though I resented the authority she imposed upon me for so many years.
Can you please advise Matron?
Yours
Timothy Watkins
