The "Panty Raid" picture represents how many of us probably got caught by our wives. I had bought my new bride a white midi-length peignoir but not knowing squat about ladies' sizes I bought her a medium. It swam on her five foot two, 115 pound body. Duh! She had a good laugh! I had not told her about my youthful escapes of trying on my mother's clothing because it was so far in the past that I thought it was just a phase; a phase that brought me shame and self-loathing. One night, while I thought she was asleep, I tried it on and was standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. She walked in, "Why are you wearing my nightgown?" I told her the truth which was I loved the feel of the nylon which was the half truth. The end result was we went shopping for a nightie or two. One, a pink midi-length peignoir I still wear. She bought me some hosiery: stockings and a cheap garterbelt. For awhile we considered it a fetish. Ultimately, I expanded my interests and we had the talk after our toddler opened the bottom draw of my armoire and yanked a vivid red Vanity Fair bra out of a large gift box that I kept my small stash in. Thus, started our "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" marriage. Three years ago she was clearing out the nightgowns that she no longer can fit into (sigh!), had them piled on the bed and told me to take what I wanted. She knew that was the only nightie that would fit. I took it. As we sleep apart due to medical reasons I do sleep in it some nights, along with my own pink peignoir. These are definitely vintage (1971, 1972) and with care have are still "like new." Since then I have enhanced my collection of nighties to 61.
I love the new mature version of the Casa Stana masthead. Exactly the gurls I would want to go out shopping, to the theatre or for an adventure with. Penny from Edinburgh.
The "Panty Raid" picture represents how many of us probably got caught by our wives. I had bought my new bride a white midi-length peignoir but not knowing squat about ladies' sizes I bought her a medium. It swam on her five foot two, 115 pound body. Duh! She had a good laugh! I had not told her about my youthful escapes of trying on my mother's clothing because it was so far in the past that I thought it was just a phase; a phase that brought me shame and self-loathing. One night, while I thought she was asleep, I tried it on and was standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. She walked in, "Why are you wearing my nightgown?" I told her the truth which was I loved the feel of the nylon which was the half truth. The end result was we went shopping for a nightie or two. One, a pink midi-length peignoir I still wear. She bought me some hosiery: stockings and a cheap garterbelt. For awhile we considered it a fetish. Ultimately, I expanded my interests and we had the talk after our toddler opened the bottom draw of my armoire and yanked a vivid red Vanity Fair bra out of a large gift box that I kept my small stash in. Thus, started our "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" marriage. Three years ago she was clearing out the nightgowns that she no longer can fit into (sigh!), had them piled on the bed and told me to take what I wanted. She knew that was the only nightie that would fit. I took it. As we sleep apart due to medical reasons I do sleep in it some nights, along with my own pink peignoir. These are definitely vintage (1971, 1972) and with care have are still "like new." Since then I have enhanced my collection of nighties to 61.
ReplyDeleteOne of the problems with AI. The wife is standing in front of a closet door instead of the door into the room.
ReplyDeleteHuh? What's your point?
DeleteI love the new mature version of the Casa Stana masthead. Exactly the gurls I would want to go out shopping, to the theatre or for an adventure with.
ReplyDeletePenny from Edinburgh.
"One thing just led to another." Isn't that pretty much what happened to most of us here?
ReplyDelete