Time travel

Apparently Queen Victoria put on fresh hand-made silk underwear every day of her adult life. Each day her drawers were unworn and fresh out of the packet (brand-spanking new, you could say).
And in 1837, at 18, she had a 20in waist while that had become a 56in waist by the 1890s.  I owe both those factoids to a blog called Kate Tattersall, which also has lots of other interesting things to say about Victorian life.
I came across it today because thought I'd revisit old topics to celebrate the fact that I've just passed the 200,000 hits mark, which I find unbelievable. To mark the milestone I've been having a quick look back to November last year and my very first post here.
And I'm a bit mystified as to why I just jumped straight in with Queen Victoria's drawers (but not into them). Why no gentle introduction? Anyway, Queen Victoria's silk drawers were auctioned and someone paid £10,000 for them.
At the time I didn't give the story much in the way of context, so I'll put that right by sharing some of what the Kate Tattersall blog has to say on drawers. It says that they weren't worn much until the second half of the 19th Century - it was the fashion for crinolines that got girls into undies.
The problem was that if a gust of wind lifted your crinoline you were in trouble unless you had drawers to hide your bare essentials. Drawers were split leggings and about knee length.
Each leg was separate and joined together only at the waistband which left the crotch seam open. Having pants with that opening there seems like a bit of an invitation to me, but then I guess it represents the height of modesty compared with wearing nothing at all.
A last thought, a buyer paid £10K for Victoria's pants at an auction, but Her Maj apparently wore a new pair everyday. Doesn't that means that somebody, somewhere has to be sitting on lots of royal knickers that could all be turned into easy money?

Undercover investigation

Socks or stockings? Under a school uniform, that is. When I'm trawling through vintage spank-related images I've always assumed that stockings under school uniforms were a re-imagination of reality to make the image a little sexier.

Now I'm not so sure. The past is another country, as they say, and it's never easy to pick apart fact and fiction. The history element of historical fiction is rarely more than minimal.

But it's nice to at least try for a bit of authenticity, isn't it? I'm working at the moment on a 1940s story that has quite a bit of action set in a girls' boarding school, which means uniform has been an issue.

Knowing exactly what a 1940s boarding school girl wore is quite difficult to establish. Yes, there are old school photos that give an impression of outer-wear - but what about the all-important detail of underwear?

Perhaps I should approach ex-pupils on the pretence that I'm doing genuine historical research. The problem is by my calculation a member of 1940's Upper Sixth would now be in her late 80s...

So, I'm really grateful to Mr Tawse for giving us this great picture and for his thoughts on 1960s school skirts and stocking tops. Clearly the older schoolgirl back then had stockings when she was in class.
I'd imagined Beryl and her chums in gymslips or pleated skirts and knee-length socks, but now I cna see I'm probably wrong. Stockings would probably been the order of the day then too. It looks like I need to go back and re-write the chapters I've completed so far to put my naughty girls in the right undies.

Book club: Beastly Behaviour

Welcome to my book club. Please sit down and help yourself to a piece of cake. As long-time readers will know our club doesn't bother with dull Booker prize shortlist novels, the sort of thing that thrills worthy lit chicks. We're about fiction that comes with the smack of firm discipline.

Which is why this month's club choice is 'Beastly Behaviour' by Aishling Morgan.

I adore the flair and wit of Aishling Morgan at her (or his?) best. Her writing is funny and clever - and arousing all at the same time. In fact, they deserve to be up there with a classic like 'Frank and I'.

And 'Beastly Behaviour' is among the best of them, although it gets a run for its money from one or two of the others. How can you not love a novel with a notes section that begins with the statement: "The late Victorian era must surely be regarded by all right-thinking persons as the golden age of female underwear." This right-thinker definitely agrees and is just as keen to celebrate the wonder of corsets, drawers and the rest. 

You don't have to have read Conan Doyle's 'The Hound of the Baskervilles' to cotton on to the fact that Ms Morgan borrows heavily from the Sherlock Holmes yarn for 'Beastly Behaviour'. There's the 'bleakness and melancholy' of Dartmoor, a big black hound, a convict on the loose and a detective by the name of Harland Wolff (who is accompanied by his old friend Dr Manston).

Their lady in distress is, however, not the typical Conan Doyle creation - she makes her first dancing in a Wild West whorehouse, where she's being offered for sale by the unscrupulous Nanna Bloss.

And, unlike a Holmes story, 'Beastly Behaviour' is bristling with sex and spanking. Along the way Genevieve, and her bottom, suffer plenty of indignities in a story that has lots of fiendishly inter-woven plot lines.It all moves along at a spanking pace (what else) to the sort of satisfying conclusion that a good AM always provides. In short, I'd say its a spanko treat.

I like...

Interesting thoughts on ads over at A Voice in the Corner. Those advertising creatives are naughty, aren't they? Picture one really caught my eye, not because of his dire hair but for her luscious underwear. Drawers, pants, knickers? Not sure what you'd call them, but I love 'em.
I wish I had a pair to tuck away in the bottom drawer for those special occasions. If anyone knows where I could get something similiar do please, please let me know.

Queen Victoria's big pants

Passion killers. That's how the BBC breakfast bloke described Queen Victoria's silk drawers a day or two ago. She wouldn't have been amused, neither was I.
Yes, they're big and a bit plain, but it's all a matter of perspective, isn't it? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I'd say that on the right behind those drawers - or something like them - could set the pulse racing.
Something like them must have worked for Prince Albert. Didn't he and Queen V have loads of kids? And they turned out to be hot stuff at the auction in Edinburgh - somebody paid £10,000 for them.
One question though, what did Victorian men wear under their trousers? When I've been researching 19th Century women's underwear there's lots of detail, but about men's pants nothing. Is that because I'm looking in the wrong places, or did Prince Albert and his contemporaries go commando?