This fact changed things in my mind and after waving her goodbye I raced to my bedroom shouting down to my parents not to disturb me as I was learning my lines for the play. I stripped off completely and battled for about fifteen minutes getting the tights on. Then on went the shiny black ballet flats.
I got through the dress rehearsal relatively OK but when the big night came (it was at Ilford Town Hall with the Mayor and other dignitaries as guests of honour) I was virtually glued to the spot unable to move. Fortunately the lights dimmed and I was able to move about without too much trouble.
When it was over I started to hatch what was probably my first ever devious plan. I had no intentions of returning Janes tights or flats. At school the next day she asked for them and with a put on look of shock I said that I must have left them on the bus home after the play.
She was not happy, but I was, and a couple of days later she told me that her mum was not going to ask for them to be replaced.
I remember using them to "feel good" for many months afterwards until I outgrew them. I never threw them away but they were lost when we moved to Kent a few years later.
When I was about 14 I was helping my mum in the guest house she ran. She asked me to look in the rooms we had let for a week to 4 teenage girls from Coventry, to get rid of any rubbish left behind. When I returned downstairs I sneaked past my mum and dived into my bedroom clutching a plastic bag full of stockings, of which nearly all were laddered to some degree.
The bonus was a suspender belt with a broken hook which I soon repaired. I found that I just couldn't keep out of them and wore stockings all through the school holidays. Since then I've never looked back and now some 45 years later still get a thrill when putting nylons on.
edited due to content. ks
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