I was born in 1943 and grew up in the 1940s and 50s. We lived in Washington D.C. in a comfortable middle class neighborhood not far from the National Zoo.
My mother was European. She had very different ideas about what boys should wear than I had, having grown up in America. Mom was also not one of those namby pamby American moms who coddled their kids. My sister and mother both knew who was in charge and except for rare instances of priciple, did not often challenge her.
I attended private school. A lot of the boys there wore shorts, most came from rather affluent fmilies. At home most of my friends who went to public school mostly wore long pants. Often jeans.
When I dressed up I always wore short pants suits. Mom always picked them out. I was brought along to be fitted, but certainly not to be consulted. When I turned 12, mom announced it was tme for a new suit. I was rather thinking it would be my first pair of longies. Mom soon dispelled me of that misunderstanding. It was one of the rare times I challenged her. On such occasions she would sometimes give me a fair hearing. This time there was not the slighest chance she would change her mind.
I remember the first time I wore my new, and thankfully last short oamts sduit. A new family had just moved in near us and I had made friends with the boy who was about my age. He invited me to his birthday party, he was turning 12. I was hoping that I Wouldn't have to dress up, but mom insisted I wear my new suit? Almost as irritating as the shorts, were the blue knee socks I had to wear with them. By this time, knee socks were becoming something we boys (certainly most of my friends at home) saw as something that girls wore. Only the very smallest boys wouldn't be caught dead in them.
I still remember the scene when I ran the doorbell. His mom answered the door and just beamed when she saw me. "My goodness Phillip, don't you look nice," of course referring to my short pants. She just gushed all over me. Actually she was worse then my friends who were used to seeing me in shorts.
My friend Richard came over to accept his present. He was surprised to see me in shorts and knee socks, I noticed him glancing at my bare knees. But mercifully he didn't say anything. His mother though wouldn't let it go. "Now see Ricky, how nice Phillip looks. I don't see why you won't let me get a short pants suit for you." Obviously it was a bone of contention between them.
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