The strongest memories that I have about the clothes I wore as a boy was
the short pants I wore. My parents insisted on short pants, even whem my
friends and school mates were wearing long pants--often jeans. I have
pondered why they were so insistent on short pants. I think it was
primarily their family background.
I think my parents insisted on short pants because
they had definite ideas on propriety. Both my parents grew up in
circumstances where there were family memories of being higher up the
social and economic scale. The fear of "sinking" which Orwell dissected so
brilliantly in a British context leads to excessive emphasis on
appearances.
My mother came from an old, upper-crust South Carolina
family; they had these Falknerian memories of the Civil War and all that
they had lost. For such people, it is very critical that everyone know
that you are not white trash, even if you're hurting for money, as so many
were in the 30s, when my mother was growing up.
There was a very clear
class distincton in the south in the way children dressed (there's a
reference to that in to Kill a Mockingbird); nice little boys wore white
suits with kneelength shorts, shoes, and socks. I don't know for sure that
my mother's brother dressed that way, but I'd be willing to bet more than
even money. That's where she got the idea that nice boys wore short pants;
having married a struggling young academic, keeping up appearances is
still almost pathologically important to her.
My father did not wear short
pants as a boy, but he too had childhoold experiences of "slipping". His
mother came from old New England/Upper New York State stock (Mayflower
ancestors). When she moved to Minnesota as a young teacher and fell in
love with an Irish immigrant, my great-grandfather tried to stop the
wedding, although he finally relented, party because my grandfather was not
poor, working-class Catholic, but middle-class Church-of-Ireland.
Nonetheless, they lived in Hibbing Minnesota, a raw mining town in the
1920s, and my grandmother knew she had come down in the world.
My father
did tell me that he got to be friends with boys from a quite rich family up
the street (they were mine owners or something), and that when he was
invited for lunch, my grandmother was very nervous that his manners were
inadequate, and he was drilled on napkin holding, finger bowls, and the
like. And something very important--those rich boys (in the summertime,
of course) wore short pants!
So both my parents were inclined, I think, to
view short pants as one of the many tools they could use to forestall
"creeping proletarianization" -- a lifelong effort, as my father didn't
make much money. They both put a tremendous emphasis on appearances and
thought of themselves as superior in their tastes and lifestyles to the
people they dealt with on a daily basis. They would sniff at such things
as TV watching during dinner, cereal boxes on the table, bad table manners,
a TV or family photographs in the living room (which they always kept in
beautiful shape and never let me go into unless I was dressed in clean
clothes).
The fact that other boys wore long pants cut absolutely no ice
with them whatsover, because they assumed all these other boys came from
lower middle class homes. I think if we'd stayed in D.C., things might
have been different because I would have been associating with "higher
class" boys and as they switched to longs that would have had an impact.
Author: Bruce McPherson
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