Wedding Ring Bearer Experiences: America, 1946








Ring Bearer Memories: America, 1946

Looking back, this may have been one of the worst days of by boyhood. My aunt pressed me into being the ring bearer at her wedding. I wasn't interested, but my parents insisted. I didn't object because I knew in advance what I wiyld have to wear--I just figured it would be a long drawnout adukt afare that wiould be boring. It wasn't until the day of the wedding that I learned of the redculous costume she had selected for the ring bearer. I survived the wedding, but the wearing the little boy's outfit they had me dolled up in was really embarrassing. The only thing positive that came out of it was the fact that i had such a horrific headache and felt so lousy the following day due to all the booze my uncle had me drinking that I have never had any interest in alcohol since.

My Aunt Chooses Me

In the fall of 1946 I had reached the ripe old age of 11 years and a few months and felt that my childhood was behind me and my grown up adult status was only at most a year or two away. Anyway, my father's half sister who was only about twice my age, decided to get hitched to a guy just recently discharged from the navy. Since I was her favorite, and only nephew, she insisted that I should actively participate in her wedding as the ring bearer. I wasn't enthused one bit with her idea. I didn't know anything about ring bearers, but I did know that a wedding was a boring adult affair that would kill an entire weekend. My parents, unfortunately felt differently. My mom and dad felt having me in the lime light, if only for a moment, would help me overcome my shy and retiring demeanor. I had never attended a wedding before, but I had a pretty good idea that it would be a long drawn out, stuffy, dress up affair, based on what I had seen in the movies.

Grandmother

So Friday afternoon the family and I headed for my grandmothers in a distant city. We arrived in time for one of her sumptuous meals which everyone always enjoyed, then I and the other nuptial players went to the church for rehearsal. My part didn't turn out to be any big deal and I actually felt confident that I could get through the ceremony without doing something embarrassing. Also I could see the production wouldn't take nearly as long as I had figured it would.

A Little Lord Fauntleroy Suit

I knew that the wedding, at least, would require us all to be super dressed up. A few weeks prior my mom had made some cursory measurements and phoned them to my grandmother so I expected I would be given special clothes to wear.

Saturday morning everything was pandemonium with all the women running around like crazy and the men trying to stay out of their way. The shindig was scheduled for 2 PM but my mom had me out of bed by 9:30. I came down to the kitchen for breakfast but instead was handed a box with the suit I was to wear and ordered to go up to one of the bedrooms and put it on. I really hadn't given any thought about what I would be expected to wear, so as I trudged up the steps, I just assumed it would be a miniature version of the penguin suit my dad wore when he and mom went to what they called 'formal' events.

I went into the only bedroom that didn't already have someone already in the process of changing into their 'super duds' and dumped the contents of the box on the bed. I gasped in disbelief as my suit tumbled out. I knew exactly the kind it was because I had seen a 19th century painting of some poor kid dressed in a similar outfit when my school class had gone to an art museum. But there it was. Black knee socks, the dumbest looking pair of black short shorts, black suspenders to hold up the shorts, a white long sleeved shirt with frilly lace on the cuffs and a wide lace collar, and a black bow tie, which was the only item of the silly looking costume I would even consider wearing. Even the shiny black shoes with the long pointy toes looked like they belonged with a clown outfit. No question. I was staring at a genuine turn of the century Lord Fauntleroy outfit.

My Assessment

I was agast about the outfit I saw in front of me. In fact it was so objectionable that it is difficult to recall just what I disliked most about it.

Ruffled collar

The first thing that caught my eye was the shirt with the ruffled ciuffs and big lace collar. I was soon to find out that not only was it stupid looking itself, but the lace collar matched the one that the flower girl was wearing. She was a 7 year old niece of the groom. Ugh! It just really just topped off my totally sissy look. It was a rather stiff starched shirt with tails longer than on usual boys shirts. It didn't button to the shorts, thank God. The suspenders kept the shorts up. The buttons were normal for a dress shirt, but the shirt was very difficult for me to button because the buttons were small, the material stiff and heavy, and I don't doubt that the shirt had been worn too many times previously, if ever. I had to get mom to button the coller button and it wasn't because it was overly tight.

Short pants

I did not have any fondness for short pants at this time and like most 11-year old boys, I wouldn't be caught dead wearing them let alone the short tight fitting leg thing with the prominent fly buttons my aunt expected me to wear. They were not lined. The outfit was essentially the same cut and style "monkey suit" that the groom and best man were wearing, with the legs lopped off about knee length. It was fairly heavy rather stiff pants material, probably a wool blend. The shorts had a band of smooth shiny black material running down the outer seams of the pant legs the same as the men's tux's

Suspender shorts

Not only were they rediclously short, short pants, but they were suspender shorts. I had never worn pants with suspenders before and they were a real pain tp put on. In fact I don't think they were made right as they made my shorts come up higher than they should have. It was not just that they were uncomfortable to wear though. While I had not worn suspebnder pants before (they came in both short and long pants styles), I knew that they were a style for younger boys. Mature 11 year old boys like me had pants with belt loops.

Vest

There was a matching black vest but I only wore it in the car to the church. During the long wait before the "show" I complaned about the heat and took it off. Mom and some of the other women thought i looked more boyish with it off so I did not wear it during the ceramony or the photo session and reception that followed.

Kneesocks

American boys in the 1950s began objecting to kneesocks, viewing them as girls' socks. I was, however, used to kneesocks because I wore them with my winter knickers. My over riding concern was the stupid short pants, which I really found embarassung. What was going through my mind was that I was going to be humiliated by wearing short pants in a very public way. As such the socks were no concern in themselves, in fact I think I welcomed them as they at least covered some of my legs.

Short Lived Protest

I grabbed the shorts and frilly shirt and tore down the stairs to tell my mother in no uncertain terms that there was no way in hell I was going to wear that silly outfit and they had better come up with something normal for me to put on or they could just count me out. When I caught up with her dad was also standing there so I showed them the garments and stated my case as forcefully as I dared without overstepping the disrespect line that would have gotten me a quick swat on the behind. I knew my mom liked to see boys wearing shorts, but I doubted that either she or dad would want to see me disgraced wearing this silly outfit. Wrong. Mom ordered me to get it on and get back down stairs in the next five minutes or else. My anger flared and dad quickly indicated what the 'or else' would entail.

Getting Dressed

I stormed back up to the bedroom and shucked my nice comfortable boy clothes and started dressing. I had actually seen kids in school wearing long pants with suspenders so I was able to dope out how to connect them up to the waist band of the shorts. I had worn knee socks in the winter when I was younger with the knickers that all boys wore. With them the elastic gathers below the knees would keep the socks up. The socks in my outfit were the same but there were elastic straps in the box that I decided were to serve the same function.

The shorts were really ridiculous. For an 11-year old I had heavy rather well muscled thighs and they just about completely filled the pant legs that extended at most about one third of the way down to my knees. When I clipped the suspenders on to the front of the waist band the crotch of the shorts pulled up into the crack of my ass. I found it uncomfortable just standing. When I bent over to put the shoes on the shorts scrunched me and I let out a howl. Not only did I look ridiculous, I was uncomfortable as hell and wouldn't dare try to bend over again. The shoes were too big and wouldn't stay on my feet so I grabbed them and stomped back downstairs to show the powers that be that I not only looked like an idiot but the stupid clothes were unwearable.

Reaction

My outfit got the response I expected when the others saw me. The gals thought I looked just too cute for words and the men smirked and tried to keep from busting out laughing.

Mom

Mom's reaction was predictable when she saw me. "Henery you look very nice. I know you feel you are too old to wear shorts any more, and i know you don't like being all "dolled" up, but this is a very special occasion for your aunt and she wants you to be formally dressed to match the rest of the wedding party".

She had often commented to me as well as her friends that she really liked to see boys wearing shorts, and when I was younger before we moved from the upper class "bedroom" community where I spent my first 7 years, she had me in short pants the better part of 7-months of the year. Since my peers also wore shorts I thought little of it. After we moved to a less elite town, and as I think the result of the war, shorts were out. None of the boys in town wore them to school, even in first garde in hot weather.

Mother knew I wouldn't want to be caught dead wearing shorts in public. She played down the "cuteness" of my outfit. I'm sure she had nothing to do with the selection of my attire. My aunt and grandmother were the culprets.

Dad

I caught up with dad and told him my woes. He was able to provide some relief by lengthening the suspenders as far as they would go so hopefully I wouldn't get pinched. The shoes were made to stay on my feet with the help of some crumpled up newspaper stuffed in the toes. This did not make for comfortable walking, and I prayed that I wouldn't walk out of them or go ass over tin cups as I did my thing at the church. For awhile this thought totally blocked out the concern for the spectacle my outlandish attire was producing.

My aunt

My aunt was estatic when she saw me. She gushed, "Ah, what a strong handsome looking lad you are!" She had lived with us for nearly a year before we moved and didn't realize that I was no longer comfortable being dressed like a little kid, or she may have tried to get the rental place to come up with a long pants outfit. I'm sure it probably would have been just as uncomfortable to wear, nonetheless.

Other ladies

You would not believe the number of ladies who thought it necessary to tell me how sweet I looked. "Oh what a cute little boy. You look so dressed up". One stupid woman even pinched by face cheeks while she was gushing her platatudes. It was just awful. Handsome and dressed up were the most common adjetives I think they used.

Hoping to be Forgotten About

I didn't know what the damn rush was for, but we left the house by noon time and got to the church within 15 minutes. My grandfather and two of the brides maids rode over to the church with us. Everyone was so anxious to get out of the car and hob knob with those that were already there that I had no trouble staying secluded in the car. Wouldn't it just be a super day if they all forgot about me and I could remain hidden and avoid all the embarrassment and humiliation that I knew was going to occur as soon as people spotted me in my ridiculous Fountleroy suit. Alas it was not to be. After about a half hour my mother came out to the car and took me in tow.

As at the house all the women made a big fuss over how nice I looked and what a cute boy I was. The men just smiled and I could tell most of them were sympathetic to my plight. Fortunately I wasn't exposed to too many people before it was time to get to the anti-room where the other participants were gathered. I sat sullenly in the corner trying to stay out of everybody's way and sight. I thought the show would never get on the road, but finally my aunt and grandmother with the remaining brides maids showed up.

The Ceremony

The ceremony went off without a hitch. Down the isle and the entire time I was up front I could feel that all eyes were riveted on my pristine white knees and upper legs that were so starkly exposed between my socks and shorts. To keep my composure I focused on the choir loft and the stained glass window behind through the whole ceremony. I almost blew my trivial part because I was so intent on blocking out the presence of the crowd of people.

I was hoping to be able to sit down inconspicuosly some where out of the way. That wan't to be. I tromped down the center isle with the flower girl second in line behind the minister. The flower girl and I FG and I then moved to either side up front until it was time to hand over our loot.

At the time it seemed like an eternity and I was now more concerned that I might flubb my miniscule role than that people were staring at my rediculous costume. The ceremony probably ran about 20 minutes. At the end we followed the bride and groom back up the isle trailed by the rest of the wedding party, the bride and groom's parents, then last the minister.

The Photographer

I was really hoping that when the rice throwing was over we would have time to go back to the house so that I could put on some sane clothes, however my hopes dimmed as my aunt wanted me in several of the photos, both in the church as well as outside. To make matters worse, the photographer didn't seem to know what he wanted and took endless time having us pose then re-pose for each shot. I had time to do a lot of thinking and one unsettling thought was what was going to happen to all those photographs of me in this stupid outfit.

Between times mother was showing me off to distant relatives I didn't know and other friends of the family. The worst encounters were with older women who were friends of my grandparents. I got the same gushy platitudes as from my aunts younger friends, but one of these stupid ladies actually pinched me after telling me how "cute" I looked. This added physical pain to add to the pain of my humiliation. I was really disgusted wuth these women. I don't think I had ever heard the word "sweet" and "cute" used so mant times before.

Other Children

There were few other children at the wedding. The girls wore above the knee dresses and the boys long pants suits. There were no other kids around my age present. The less than a dozen children present were probably under 8 years old. I had never met any of them before and I certainly didn't want to do dressed like I was. I made a point of staying apart from them. For the most part the other children were with their parents and fortunately for me they were about half my age or younger so they did not confront me directly. There was giggling and other indications that I was the target of ridicule; however I felt so humiliated wearing the silly outfit in public I was expecting and automatically assumed every glance and comment directed toward me was negative in nature. I don't think it was just my embarassed condition that made me think that some of their expressions and finger pointing wern't directed at my appearence.

The other younger boys seemed more amused in my costume than the girls. Older boys (late teens) and the men seemed to be sympathetic regarding my situation, knowing that no kid in their right mind would have opted for my outfit, so they didn't make a big issue or subject me to excessive teasing.

I diddn't talk with the flower girl or other girls at the wedding to any great extent. The flower girl and I were together in the anti-room for what seemed ages until they finally got the show on the road. Thankfully she didn't give any notice of my outfit. Her main concern (she was only maybe about 7) was the same as mine at that point; that we wouldn't mess anything up. I do remember I tried to re-assure her and we agreed I would give her a sign when she was to present her flowers.

The Reception

Finally the photographer finished with me and we piled in the car and drove over to the place where there would be eats for all the wedding guests. I guess this was to compensate them for the trouble of getting all dolled up in their finest outfits and blowing a beautiful Saturday afternoon for a 15 minute show and the chance to look at the pretty boy in his oh so cute short pants outfit. This time I didn't have the option of remaining secluded in the car as my mother hustled me into the banquet hall as soon as we arrived. Woweee. It was a huge rectangular room decorated in a bright red, white, and blue motif. An a lot of the decoration was in the form of balloons. Mother showed me where I would be sitting at the end of the long table that ran down the long side of the room. I quickly took my seat which hid my little short pants and spared me the stares I felt everyone that was milling about was giving me.

Heading Home

We finally piled into our car. When my grandfather got in and squeezed next to me he grabbed my knee really tightly and said, "You are too old a boy to be playing with balloons. You're almost a man now and balloons are for girls and young boys." He must have been reading my mind because he quickly added, "And you are way too old to be wearing these silly little boy shorts as well." I didn't agree with gramps first comment but I had no quarrel with his second.

Coffee

When we got back to my grandparents house my mother forced me to drink several cups of horrible tasting coffee. The next morning when they got me up so we could leave to travel back to our house my head felt like it was going to explode. I had never had such head pain even when a branch snapped and I fell out of a tree and whacked the back of my head on the ground. This experience and later in the year seeing what too much alcohol did to my mother are the prime reasons why I have never been a drinker. I was nearly forty before I overcame the forced coffee drinking experience and acquired a taste for it.

Rental

The next day I got a little welcome news. Although I did not know it at time, the suit was a rental. The thought suddenly occurred to me that since I now haw this fancy suit, I might be called to wear it angain for some other posh occassion. I was determined to put up a more spirited defense if tht was a case. At any ratem on Monday the suit went to the rental place with the other wedding closes. I was one relieved 11 year old.

Wedding Photographs

One great surprise to me that photographs of me in my outfit never showed up. This was something of a surprise given the number if times I was photographed. I thought sure my aunt would send loads of ohotographs to my mother. To my knowledge, she never so. I do remember a 8x10 enlargement, but just of the bride and groom. Also my aunt never showed us copies of her wedding photos--at least never went I was along. Believe me I wasn't the least interested and not about to bring up the subject.

Aftermath

There was a happy ending to this dreadful experience. I had managed to get to and from the car at home luckily without any of my friends seeing me all dressed up like that. I would have really gotten teased if anyone had seen me. It was bad enough all those people at the wedding seeing me, but if my friends had seen me--that would have been a real disaster.

Also thanfully no one later commented on my little boy outfit. As far as I can recall, while the women at the wedding kept telling me, or usually my mother how "sweet" I looked, the issue was deopped after the wedding. I was not reminded of it, not even by my uncle, which was a real surprise. Maybe it prompted him to give me his old scouting uniform a couple of years later.

Henery Bustum





Christopher Wagner







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Created: September 20, 2000
Last updated: October 1, 2000