The following probably contains so many spelling errors it isn't true, but I am away from home using my daughter's laptop and can't get the spell checker to work on this thing - bear with me, I'm sure you can work it out. I've just discovered a hell of a lot of the content from the BEYOND THE BARRED WINDOW website didn't make it when I migrated the site to an area of Graham's THE ORIGINAL INSTITUTE site. So this is in a way a bit of an excuse for me to post up some of my fave gymslip pics that some how got lost in the move, although to be honest I was looking for one of 'em when I made this horrifying (because it had taken so long originally and had some pics not available elsewhere) discovery.
So...
I sometimes
think we should be greatful for the modern world – from several
diferent perspectives. Consider this scenario – stick with me and
you'll see it's quite plausable; been there, done that... sort of anyway:
Imagine if
you will it is back in the day. You are faced with a recent school
leaver, some recalcitrant pouty, yet attractive, teenager determined
to make her own way in the world. Ok, she's only recalcitrant up to
a point – deep down inside she's a fairly quiet type; if she digs
her heels in her objections are fairly easily overcome with a
determined jut of the jaw, a stern attitude and sheer power of will.
In other words, she's easily intimidated, she's pleasantly maluable -
but perhaps not that bright.
Perhaps she
left school at the first opertunity not so much because of her
defiant individulistic streak, her determination to be independent
and a conviction to break away, as to escape bullying, say, or
because of an inability to perform well academicaly, despite not
being TOTTALY dumb. Perhaps there is some sort of educational
deficiency present, perhaps something easily overcome, like yours
truly suffers from – dyslexia – or somewhat more difficult to
deal with but still manageable, such as mild attention deficit
disorder. Perhaps she is somewhat psychologicaly immature for her
age, struggles with her own new-found independence, wrestles
constantly with decision making, can't make up her own mind. Perhaps
deep down in her heart of hearts – though she may not realise it
herself – she actualy hankers for dependance, to be told what to do
and when to do it.
Again,
imagine if you will the decission has been made to wrest control of
her life from her, for her own good, to return her to full-time
education while there is still time to turn her around, pedagogicaly
speaking. Now, it of course goes without saying she is above the
legal age below which atendance in some sort of educational
establishment or education by an acredited tutor following a state
ratified sylabus is mandatory and in the eyes of the law is an adult
for all intents and purposes, old enough to marry – as the
hackneyed saying goes – but not old enough to know her own mind.
Through a
painstaking programe of interviews, background checks and vetting
you've found just the tutor you need to reintroduce a home schooling
regeime, a thin-lipped young woman with just the right attitude and
belief system. A suitable space in the home is easily enough found
and put aside for educational purposes – and this is easily enough
furnished from highstreet shops; as easily then as now; with no
questions asked.
Even if it
is desired to introduce corporal punishment at some point there is
little problem. Bamboo canes can be plucked from the garden – you
can leave the roses to fend for themselves for a while; I know I
have, in the log distant past – or bamboo canes can be purchased
from the local garden centre without the slightest HINT of a raised
eyebrow, or you can simply fold over your belt or use your hand. And
such has always been the case.
But now the
stumbling block: With all going to plan thus far the decision is made
to return her to school uniform. Doesn't sound too much of a
problem? But imagine she is a little on the plump side; big hips,
big bum; and buxom with it. In other words a very mature figure
which we're setting out to try and package in a decidedly immature
way. But this is where the modern world may actualy come to the
rescue. Even without the advent of the internet the uncomfortable
fact of the increasing prevalance of obesity in the young has meant
even traditional school outfitters, supermarkets and chain stores now
stock suitable items ranging up well into adult sizes. There was a
time when only a good seamstress was the solution if you wanted to
take her much beyond a basic skirt and blouse type of thing. Now
summer dresses and even more juvanile styles such as zip-fronted
pinafore dresses can be aquired from out in what we might term the
main-stream marketplace. Even simple gymslip-like styles can
sometimes be secured in sufficiently large sizes from such sources.
OK if you
would prefer to see her in something a little more idiosyncratic like
the crossover top style of gymslip I prefer to see (see illustation)
you might still need it made to meassure. And there is a lot to be
said for bespoke tailoring if you can afford it and you are willing
to go through the trouble of having her measured and perhaps two or
more fitting sessions with alterations where nessesary and so on.
But that troublesome aspect might almost be worth the cost in its own
right; the opertunities to extend girl's embaressment in such a
situation are almost endless and only limited by one's imagination.
In the right
hands her blushes will be frequent, deep and long lasting. One only
has to revisit 'the fitting session' in a back issue of Janus from
back in the 1980s to appreciate the possibilities. In that article
it was a bespoke pair of shorts being modeled and fitted but exactly
the same considerations and detailing could be applied to something
as ordinarily intimate as a pair of knickers, achieving an
extrodinarily snug and revealing fit without actualy being tight as
such. It is only when one realises that in home schooling, if the
wearing of a uniform is required for lessons and so on, the usual
considerations need no longer nessesarily apply that one would have
to take into account if designing a school uniform for public
appearance that the possibilities really begin to present themselves.
Thus – if
expense is not an issue – I can envisage two complete sets of
uniform being made up. One for when out in public – because why
shouldn't she have to retain school uniform on her, rare, escorted
trips outdoors? And the crossover-top gymslip with the plain skirt
exactly as shown is eminatly suitable Ok if you wanted to make it
less unusal and likely to raise comment you could allow the wearing
of a buttoned cardigan of a suitably subdued shade over the top,
though this should always be V-necked to show the school tie and
should incorporate contrasing piping in school colours to make it
clear to onlookers that she is in some sort of school uniform – a
matching berret with a school badge can make this statement clearer
still.
For home
wear the modified version would be worn – and this is where the
tailored school knickers come into their own. At home the skirt can
be made extrodinarily brief. The knickers, high-wasted short-legged
bloomer stlye, would terminate with beribboned leg cuffs perhaps a
little way below midthigh and fit her bottom like a glossy white
second skin of thin acetate or nylon, the backseam tucked away
invisibly between two bulging cheeks that rarely go one day to the
next without feeling the kiss of thin resiliant bamboo or rattan.
The gymslip skirt would fan out like a skater's dress might above
glossy sheeved globes more like a pelmet than a skirt, its purpose to
draw the eye and frame rather than cover. Similarly the open-sided
gymslip bodice extending and angleing outwards to accomadate the
bossom serves to exagerate and draw the eye to the prodigious
deveopment she is becoming so self-consious over and that, when
juxtaposed against the obviously juvanile styling of the outfit as a
whole, becomes so bugiling to the viewer.
But when all
is said and done regarding bepoke tailoring and the advantages to be
gleened therefrom, if you can't – or wont – pay out for
made-to-measure, the glorious internet comes to the rescue every
time. Even that rarer cross-over bodice gymslip can be aquired, no
questions asked, in sizes up to adult (see pic).
But on a
different but related subject; it is obvious (though it may take time
for the girl herself to come to terms with this) that it is less
embarresing for the young lady if she is accepted in public as within
the age range she appears to be and is dressed as rather than a much
older specimen who should really be attending college who has been
put back in school uniform and who is regualy having her rear end
warmed (and bottom used for other pleasures one would hope – there
is nothing quite like telling a girl to pull up her knickers and sit
back down when she has been used in that way; and a jar of vasiline
left in plain view on her tutor's desk or her own can be most
salitary in reminding her of the continuous need for obediance).
In
connection with this is the question of bust minimizing or breast
binding, mentioned recently by someone in feedback to this blog via
email. I have thought about this a hell of a lot over my years of
writing this stuff and am yet to reach a fixed opinion – it changes
like the weather.
On the one
hand there is the satisfaction to be derived from the sheer level of
control it implies. On the other hand there is the increased level
of embaressement suffered by the amply-blessed young lady of her
obviously grown-up biological mature figure crammed in a childish
young girl's outfit.
The latter
consideration brings me to sometimes feel the need to think about the
diametricaly oposite approach, of deliberatly augmenting the bustline
by insisting on corsetry of various forms.
A plump
busty young thing with her bustlined raised and thrust out, her waist
squeezed to the point of barely being able to breathe, and her bottom
thrust out behind her can present a sight indeed or squeezed into a
school uniform – especialy with her waist-lengh hair in braids tied
of by ribbon bows.
My feeling
nowadays, with the benefit of much thought and fantisising, tends
towards somewhere in the middle of all this. I like the idea of the
mature figure juxtaposed with the childish demeaning dress. But on
the other hand I like the idea of closely controling and disciplining
her, perhaps through dietary measures, which I would imagine as quite
stringent (an idea which is explored in the new book to quite an
extreme extent – in both directions).
So my gut
feeling right now is that the girl herself should have to take the
decission. Almost dying with emabaressment, her plump cheeks like
beetroot every time there is a visitor or she is allowed out, she
herself should ask to wear a bust reducer or binder, she herself
should choose to make herself seem younger than her years by the
language she uses, the way she carries herself, her submissiveness in
the way she behaves and acts and so on. She should stop complaining
at having her hair plaited, learn to do it herself, tie her own
ribbons in. She should cease worrying over aplying makeup – banned
from day one in any case - and the latest styles in the shops and
what is happening in the club scene and submit to what she is
becoming, to having the clock turned back, to becoming ever more
dependent on her implacably dominant governess-cum-tutor, to having
her sexulality re-writen and remoulded to suit and fufil that woman's
needs... Oh dear – I've got carried away again, gone all
breathlesss.
I stil have
no internet at home, by the way. My phone line is STILL completely
dead and an engineer can't come 'till Wednessday. So I'm falling
further behind with my work for Roger Benson – though at present he
is only asking for speech bubbles and I can clear my backlog in
around an hour or two, tops.
Mind you, there has been a 'sleep over'
in Toyntanen Towers and back home is presently full of sourcepan lids
(kids, for you un educated non-believers) and thus I have had to
migrate to a pub (again) which I can ill afford unless I can get a
book out soon, so I am reduced to scrounging beers off anyon I think
owes me one, which luckily is quite a few.
The other techniquie I
have seen other drunks use is to move in on the dreggs left behind by
others before the bar staff remove the glasses. It never fails to
amaze me how often folk get up and calmly leave behind half a pint,
or even more! Oh God... Have I tumbled SO far???
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