I am hoping this will be the first post in what will become a tradition here at Stocking Vixen of readers sharing their positive hosiery experiences and memories. This is an absolutely charming story, written by Eric in Ontario, telling the story of his first love, "S" and their experience buying her first pair of stockings together.
I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I did and please feel free to share any of your own similar experiences, or thoughts in general, in the comments. I'd love to read them.
Her First Set of StockingsIntroducing something new to someone you care about, even love, can be a tricky business fraught with danger. Having long appreciated the female leg clad in sheer nylon it was something that had been on my mind for sometime during my relationship with S.
S was my first love – perhaps my most intense love – as first love often must be. And as S and I both were experimenting and learning our respective roles as each others’ friend and lover we fell into this wonderful exploration with passion and an open-mindedness that young adults have and hope to never loose.
But how to broach my interest and passion in stockings? S was a farm girl more comfortable in jeans, a wool sweater and an anorak than fine lingerie and stockings. Luckily circumstances were to prevail that would conspire to help create a wedge from which I could leverage my passion for stockings in a manner that would benefit S and certainly benefit me!
The wedge, as it were, was S was to become as she put it “corporate cookie.” Though this term was meant with some derision as in her wildest dreams S never thought she would be dressing in corporate attire for any job, less a career. But as happenstance would have it she got a job as a sales manager for a marketing firm specializing in supporting the arts and she was required to upscale her wardrobe from the comfort of cotton to that of nylons, dresses and skirts and appropriate footwear.
Since this was a summer job one of her first complaints was the discomfort pantyhose created in the humidity that southern Ontario is apt to experience due to its geographic proximity to some of the largest bodies of freshwater in the world. Even with the benefit of air conditioning S hated the tactile feel of pantyhose.
This was my chance.
One weekend I gathered my courage and took her down to Rosalind’s, a fine lingerie shop in my home town. The proprietor, Rosalind, was a breath of fresh air in lingerie retailing. She had a passion for and a deep knowledge of her well selected stock and she handled each customer with understanding and enthusiasm. Knowing that S would immediately feel at ease with Rosalind I took S downtown on some other pretense and when we were about to pass the lingerie store suggested we go in to look around.
Somehow my apprehension disappeared, and for what at that time was unusual, I took the initiative and opened the conversation with Rosalind when she greeted us and asked us if she could help us with anything.
Taking the proffered bait I offered out that ‘we’ were looking for some stockings and a garter belt. Rosalind in her way and without missing a beat asked if this was for “pleasure or for every day wear.” I could have kissed her. It was obvious to me my intent and I am sure S knew what too but Rosalind’s comment, with its implied humor, broke the ice nicely and S, being the assertive woman she was, made it known it was for every day wear.
Rosalind selected some eminently practical and non-frilly garter belts and showed them to us and even mentioned about the one she was recommending that the small rosette in the center of the belt was “sexy” and suggested S try it on. S went into the change closet and then emerged after sometime with the statement that the garter belt was fine and now it was time to select some hose. Inside I was beaming and expectant for the time S would first wear them.
A selection was made. A pair of taupe and grey stockings with no adornments like reinforced toes or heels – that would come later – and we paid for our purchase. Well, I gladly paid, and off we went.
As it turned out S was a stocking convert. As long as we were together she never wore pantyhose to work or for any time she wanted to wear a dress or skirt and she knew that like Pavlov’s dog, any time she covertly revealed to me that she was wearing stockings an appropriate response could be guaranteed from me!
Rosalind was guaranteed a return customer as well. I would often drive from Toronto to buy lingerie for S and Rosalind would always preface our dealings with, “Is this for you or for S?”
---by Eric
