We have read so much about husbands and boy-friends persuading their wives and girl-friends by varying devious ways to wear rubber mackintoshes and leather clothing, that I now feel it is about time to put into writing the female’s reversal of the situation.
Slowly but surely I am putting my husband into leather.
When we first met and before we were married he was – and still is – mad about mackintoshes and any sort of rubber clothing and, because I love him very much, I played along and wore the macs he bought me and slid into the rubber dresses and skirts provided by him and found, somewhat to my surprise that in no time at all I too was experiencing very much the same sort of thrill and excitement that he was. What he didn’t know then, and does now, is that ever since I can remember I have been an abject devotee of leather and everything about it: its supple feel, the marvellous smell of it and the beautiful way in which its folds and creases are almost never still.
When I met Mack – I call him Mack for obvious reasons – he possessed one leather jacket which he’d had for years and which he wore with grubby jeans and wellingtons whenever he was working on the car and such like. If he wanted to be smart and feel cute it would be a well cut pair of rubber jeans and shirt with shining rubber boots, topped overall, of course, with a shiny belted black mackintosh. Fine. He looked marvellous, but what / wanted was to have him in leather jeans, leather shirt and splendid leather coat – ultimately in a head to foot close fitting laced-up leather suit like those your models wear – complete with leather helmet and face mask. The latter, I may say, is yet to come.
Then, last year, I married him and the real work began. Subtly I pointed out the masculinity of leather and femininity of rubber; leather was active, rubber was passive! leather dominated while rubber succumbed. Gradually, though he is both actively and passively inclined, he began to see the point. I have a soft black leather mini-skirt and tiny black leather shorts which I wear about the house and which he professed drove him mad. Also a scarlet leather shirt and long black trousers did something for him too! We are fortunate insofar that we are able to wear some of each other’s clothing, for I am tall, nearly as tall as Mack, and have very long legs. Well, it wasn’t long before I found him trying on some of my leather things. Alas, the only thing we don’t agree about is our waist measurements, mine is 26 in, his 31 in. So, having really tasted the feel of leather I made him go out and buy some black leather jeans – off the peg.
He was very proud of them and became quite narcissistic, staring at himself this way and that in the mirror and saying how beautiful they looked. I told him they made him look very sexy. – and what man can resist that? Boots, shirt, underpants and cap followed and two new jackets. And now he is longing to have full length outfits, both for himself and for me. He said the other day how wonderful it would be if we could get rid of all ordinary clothing and wear leather all the time – with mackintoshes of course to protect if it rains!
I have never known anyone become so attached to something new as he has become about leather. Victory, I think?
I am enclosing a photograph of him (page 34) taken last year on our honeymoon; he is wearing those first jeans of his and a black leather jacket and cap with – dare I mention it – black leather boxer shorts underneath. I think he looks devastating and he wasn’t even trying. I can tell you that he was quite a sensation in the little Welsh town we were visiting. In my humble opinion I think he looks good enough to eat. Isn’t it the duty of all wives who really love their husbands to make them look and feel like a million dollars? Why shouldn’t the girls look after their men? It always seems to be the other way round.
If you should decide to publish this letter it might perhaps persuade other girls and wives to give their own points of view and even send pictures of their men suitably and splendidly attired.
– Mrs. L. P. (Surrey.)
We were very pleased to get a letter from one of our lady readers and especially one which disproves those who believe the ladies don’t like leather: – ED.