Towards a Dialectic of Miniskirts
by LughIldanach
Copyright© 2019 by LughIldanach
Coming of Age Story: The dialectic is a deep philosophical concept used, among others, by Hegel and Marx. It can be applied, as well, to the role of miniskirts and how best to appreciate them. At least, I thought so when they first appeared. It was, of course, a purely academic exercise to appreciate them and their wearers -- and actually did give cultural insight.
Tags: mt/ft Romantic Heterosexual Humor
The dialectic
Philosophers have worked with various formulation of the dialectic, comprised of:
Thesis: an idea
Antithesis: its negation
Synthesis: resolution of the conflict.
Georg Hegel used the principle but not the words, calling them concrete, abstract, and absolute. Karl Marx merged them with additional ideas of materialism, calling his synthesis dialectical materialism. They also occurred to me when appreciating a lovely pair of female legs.
After a long day at the Newark (NJ) Public Library, I relaxed on the 142 bus, which brought the suburbanites back to safety. The driver and I were friendly, so if I fell asleep, he’d wake me when we got to my stop in West Orange. Leaning back in my seat, on a fairly dark bus, I might not be all that visible. The driver had brightened the lights in front so people might find seats.
Thesis: Rise of the Miniskirt
When the bus door opened, in walked Vivian, the captain of our baton twirlers -- we had cheerleaders, twirlers, pompom girls, a band, and a football team probably not as proficient as any of the groups of what really were female athletes. Cheerleaders were very visible socially, although happily, most of ours were sweet people that didn’t act as an elite.
Twirlers probably spent more time in a dance or gymnastics studio than socializing. I knew Vivian had been a competitive gymnast, but perhaps had grown too tall and busty for their ideal look. Vivian was in a couple of my classes, where she tended to be very quiet, although courteous. She dressed quite stylishly, different from most girls with a tailored, or even military-inspired, look. She may have been my only female classmate who ever wore business suits. In school, she was very quiet, but when she spoke in class, she was accurate and insightful. While the school tended to be split between Jews and Catholics, her unusual complexion suggested her ancestry was Sephardi, distinguished from the Ashkenazi of central and northern Europe. her waist-length black hair, smooth and gleaming.
From the packages she carried, she obviously had been shopping. Miniskirts became acceptable school wear only in my 1965-1966 school year--we had graduated in 1966--and then with caution. Hers was especially short. In addition, I realized that I was seeing her golden Mediterranean skin, not hose of any sort. Her skirt wasn’t shorter than what the cheerleaders wore, but their pleated skirts, striped in school colors, clearly were a costume. Her stretchy, solid-colored, skirt was both more subtle and more provocative. On her feet were low heels, nothing wild but her legs didn’t need help.
I’m sure that Vivian appreciated that the bus was warm and seemingly was empty other than the driver. Charlie really was focused on driving, but if there was a possible fashion show, he had a rear view mirror.
Antithesis: Incompatible lengths
From a big purse, she pulled out some stockings and rolled them up her leg. I was entranced. She hooked them to the garter belt, then stood so her skirt could fall into place. Alas, her stockings were not designed for use with a skirt that short. While their lace hems were pretty and her exposed golden skin lovely, she looked, as a maiden aunt relative liked to say, “sent for and couldn’t go.”
Hoping against hope, she sat and wiggled, hoping that the lengths somehow would reconcile. Her movements were delightful to watch but didn’t solve the problem. the lacy stocking top simply wasn’t going to disappear under a skirt that short. Looking for alternatives, she reached into her purse, taking out some pantyhose. They weren’t packaged, suggesting she had just been wearing them. She put a hand inside and stretched them a bit so she could examine them. Her lips again compressed when her hand showed her the darker upper-panty part, which would look just as awkward as stocking tops.
The bus had a routine stop at a transfer point, the intermediate terminal in Orange, for what was usually a 20-minute stop. I glanced through the window to see a small boutique was still open. “Don’t leave without me, Charlie!” It was chilly but I didn’t bother with a coat. I had a purchase to make.
Synthesis: A new presentation
Charlie got back into the driver’s seat. I rushed in.
Vivian again was regarding her legs, pressing her lips together in frustration. I stood in front of her, carefully looking over her head, and then making eye contact. “Ma’am? Here’s some possible assistance.” I handed her a bag and returned to my seat.
Surprised, she opened the bag, to find a pair of sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose. An angry look flitted over her face. “How dare you give me something so intimate?” Discipline and intellect replaced anger. “Forget I said that. You saw a problem, and without any attempt to embarrass or seduce, offered me a solution. Thank you.
She broke out into a smile of synthesis. “You asked for no reward, but if you’d like to enjoy watching me put these on, it would seem only fair.”
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