Dear Lorraine,
Many congratulations for such a wonderful site. I visit quite frequently and am amazed that I am always able to find something new each time. It sparks off memories, which I had not realised, must have been long forgotten.
I recall so many incidents involving rainwear that I hardly know where to start. I have already written about the exploits of Gillian, who liked to wear all of our coats and macs whilst walking to and from school. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to go back even further, in fact to when I was in a pram.
I'm not sure how old I was, or really how long it went on for, but I can recall being in a large pram, wrapped up very well in whatever it was that babies wore in the 1950's, but the memorable part of it was the feeling of being surrounded by plastic.
The sides of the pram were of a white plastic, with a rough texture, yet there was a plastic see through cover across the opening of the pram hood. I can recall feeling it's smoothness though the material of my gloves and thinking how nice it was.
The part of the pram where my legs were was covered in a dark blue stiff rubberised material, which was attached with shiny brass fastenings. The underside of this was smooth white rubber. I remember the feeling of being sheltered, and the sounds the plastic made as we moved along, like a crackling sound. I also wore plastic pants, as I suppose, did all babies, but the feeling of wanting to fondle them was quite strong. A feeling which I was unable to satisfy because of the clothes I had over them. I used to cry with frustration at my immobility and not being able to fondle them, but nobody seemed to know what I was crying for, and I was sometimes just lifted out and cuddled. I liked this when my mother was wearing something smooth, but not when she was not.
How strange, I think to myself now. I often wonder where my 'fetish' for rainwear started, and can only assume that it must have started even earlier than this because by now I was already hooked. Maybe it's a womb thing, who knows. Perhaps somebody out there can shed some light on the matter through their own experiences, and would like to contact me. I shall leave my pseudonym (Malcolm) and email address with you.
Best regards
Malcolm
Dear Malcolm
I'm so glad you find the site interesting. I've said this before, but it is so obvious in your case: if it's interesting it's only because people are good enough to share absolutely fascinating experiences like this.
The point that shouts itself to me is: you must be retrieving memories here from an exceptionally early age. I wonder if you know at what age you quit that pram? Don't the psychologists say memories usually start seriously around 3?
Anyway, I would have thought your experience does indeed speak loudly in favour of there being something in the genes. Yes, other people's earliest memories would be very interesting.
Many thanks indeed
Lorraine
Thank you for posting my letter about my pram experiences.
I can't imagine that I would still be being pushed around in a pram at 3 years of age, especially in those days. I asked my mother how old I was when I started walking, and she says that as near as she can recall, I was about 1 year old. So maybe the psychologists have got their dates wrong. I must have been younger than that.
There are other things (irrelevant here) that I can recall from a very early age, probably around one-and-a-half or two years old, so memory must start recalling very early. Struggling to sit up and see over the edge of the pram but being restrained by a harness is another recollection. Another is lying in a carry cot in garden with the sun beating through the plastic rain cover - I remember how soft the plastic felt in the heat and how it misted up so that I couldn't see through it. That was probably the start of my interest in plastic I should imagine. But how young I was, we shall never know I'm afraid.
Maybe this might nudge some of your readers memories a bit, who knows. But your site has certainly nudged mine.
All the very best
Malcolm
Thanks Malcolm, very interesting.
I see your point about the plastic interest - and the restraining straps possibly added to the cocktail...
People, do please be nudged!
Lorraine
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