So yesterday I was going through bags of stuff looking for, you know, one of those essential household items you use maybe once a year and lose inbetweentimes. I moved house nearly a year ago, and things were pretty on top at the time with family shit and work shit and relationship shit, and the house I was moving out of had become an extremely inhospitable environment. I was just trying to keep my head above water, really.

So when it came time to move I did the time- honoured thing of literally just piling every fucking thing within arm’s reach in a binbag and putting it in a truck and getting the hell out of dodge, only to sit in a corner and weep into my armpit for two months while everything got steadily more precarious and then collapsed! In a heap of rubble! Leaving me completely and utterly emotionally depleted for months afterwards! Yay!

Anyway. So going through this one bag was a trip down memory lane. It was mostly knickers and socks. Mostly odd black socks, and some underwear of my ex’s. A binbag of random black socks and mens’ underwear, just bundled together, unthinkingly… oh, and a suspender belt, and these stockings. I bought them in the first few months of my relationship with my ex- who wasn’t at all a protocol kinda guy, all said, but told me that he didn’t want me wearing tights with skirts/ dresses; only stockings. When I protested that stockings weren’t very warm for the winter months he looked bemused and said, do they not make woolen stockings any more? And I said, I dunno, I guess so, I’ll have a look on the internet.

So I did, and I found these. They were like, £4 a pair, and when they arrived and I loved them I should have bought a squillion more pairs but I didn’t, because I am a fool. Anyway I’d totally forgotten I owned them until yesterday, and today it’s about 18 degrees outside, far too warm to wear them- I’m hoping that will continue and I’ll have no need of them until Autumn rolls around again so they can go in s zipper bag under the bed.

But I’m wearing them this morning, just for an hour, enjoying their slightly retro Edwardian schoolgirl feel once more – especially when accompanied by this extremely robust and unfiddly suspender belt from Anne Summers. It’s only item of clothing I’ve ever bought from there, but was worth every penny because it makes getting trussed up like a turkey so damn easy.

And that was what I loved about the stockings in context. As rules go this one wasn’t about being sexy. I mean, for sure, we both enjoyed the marginally easier access stockings provide in the event of a quickie or public sex, but that wasn’t the reason for it. It wasn’t about being that kind of sexy; the uncomfortable, trussed up, shivery, suffering for my submission kind of sexy. It wasn’t for my own good like having a bedtime, internet curfew or punishment dynamic would be. It always felt more like one of those rules which is just… this is how it is now. The person who makes the decision has made this decision and so there you go. And I kinda like that kind of rule, personally.

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