I thought I was safe on Monday as I chose a newish pair of the stretchy elastic sort; I was so wrong. Skipping away merrily, I suddenly became aware of my pants edging their way down my bottom. Luckily I was wearing shorts so they weren't going to get very far but, nevertheless, it was uncomfortable. And trying to pull them up surreptitiously while still skipping is not on: I have enough trouble skipping at the best of times. (I blame my junior school teacher for that. When she discovered I'd managed to not put my name down for any of the other events in the Summer School Olympics, she made me enter the skipping race: I came last.)
I suppose it's not as bad as the 'old days' when knickers had a piece of elastic in the waistband and then when the elastic went you really knew about it. I remember my great-aunt telling me how she'd been walking down the street when her elastic pinged. She could feel her knickers falling down. She stopped, shimmied them to the floor, stepped out of them, picked them up and put them in her bag before continuing on her way. She had style did Auntie Vi.
Most hated of my memories are the navy knickers, compulsory for grammar school.
The school I attended was halfway up a hill. (In the photo, taken from across the bay in the haze of today, the lower cross marks where the school used to be; the top cross is the park.) We didn't have our own playing-fields, so come the games lesson, we had to walk up the rest of the hill to one of the, let's say, less attractive areas of Swansea. If ever a place was misnamed it was Paradise Park. There we had to strip down to our navy knickers and dark green vests and venture into the wind that inevitably whistled over the top of the hill to play hockey. I hated hockey. Nasty, dangerous game. My main aim on the hockey pitch was to stay as far away as possible from the ball. I can only recall one incident that showers me with a drip of glory.
Owing to a lapse in concentration I found myself tackling Judith. Judith was built like a brick wall with the face of a Millwall supporter. And she was in the school hockey team. With the cheers of the crowd ringing in my ears (poetic licence) and shouts of, 'Stay with her, Liz!' I pursued her across the field, our sticks inter-weaving thrillingly as we vied for the ball. But she was only toying with me.
When she got to where she wanted to be, she whacked the ball out of my reach, and I was left to walk, lonely and desolate back across to my habitual place on the edge. There is no glory for the one who comes second.
But at least my knickers didn't fall down.
xxx
8 comments:
I hated hockey too.
BUt I must confess, my knickers have never fallen down of their own accord ...
Ah yes, this is just like my hockey games, apart from the moment of glory, which I never had (although I did once play a starring role in rounders, when the ball hit me right in the head and I had to be rushed off the pitch). I wonder if they still wear those navy knickers - if we forgot them, we had to either do it in our normal pants, or borrow some of the old knickers from the spare cupboard, ick. And I was always amazed at the weather they made us go out in. Surely it's not a good idea to send schoolchildren out in ice and storms? But there we were, and standing still in a corner was no way to keep warm.
Great post, Liz and I'm still giggling. With me, it's tights that seem to fall down! I remember school knickers, too - ours were bottle green and made of the most horrible, rough material you could imagine. Could never understand hockey.
I ignored the nicker parts and concentrated on the match. Glory is within reach, but seldom reached...on the playing field that is.
oh, your Auntie Vi and I are cut from the same cloth! Years ago when my kids were still in elementary school, I'd gone to Weight Watchers and lost around 80 pounds. I still wasn't used to the new "svelte" me and hadn't mentally grasped just how much my body had changed. I was walking my kids and several others to school one morning and I had on a skirt with a half-slip underneath. Suddenly, I could feel it slithering down past my hips and the next thing I knew, it'd dropped into a silky pool on the pavement right on the main walkway into school! I didn't miss a beat...I scooped the slip up, stuffed it in my pocket, and went on my way with two VERY embarrassed children of mine following about 10 feet behind me, LOL! I had completely forgotten about that 'til reading about you and Auntie Vi, haha! Thanks for a good chuckle on this one, Liz!
Oh, my goodness! My knickers never fall down on their own. I must be getting good elastic. I hope my luck holds.:)
No droopy knickers here. Just the opposite. Wedgies. Creeping up the ravine. Oh, how I hate that feeling.
I need to find an English to English dictionary. There are so many interesting and subtle nuances and tiny differences in words and word usage 'tween here and there. Reading your posts, or Andy's, or any one of several others with UK roots, I am usually amused, occasionally baffled, by the differences. Neither of us is right or wrong -- just different.
No, Winston, we're right: we invented the English language. ;)
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