The Wrong Trousers

The White Trousers are indeed wrong - very wrong.

When I was a teenager going through period hell there are a number of incidents that remain indelibly etched in red in my rather shabby memory.

First was a sponsored walk that was organised by my school every year. You could choose whether you wanted to do the 5, 10 or 20 miles. I had previously done the 5 miles and although I couldn't walk for a week afterwards cos of ankle bleeds I was determined to do the 10 mile the next year with my friends.

However, dodgy joints apart, there was something different about me that year. I had hit puberty - like a truck full of ketchup ramming into a bridge support, there was red stuff everywhere. I was getting used to carrying masses of sanitary towels, feeling like I was in nappies again - and getting taken to the hospital for factor injections or blood transfusions every month.

Needless to say I was a bloody minded 13 year old :) and decided to enrol onto the 10 mile walk against my parents' better advice. With them assuring me that if I needed them I should get one of the Marshalls, posted every few miles around the course, to give them a bell. I'm not going to need that I thought!

Off I set. I seem to remember it was a horrible day. Raining and windy and cold. I was wearing a very untrendy mac and hiking boots. Waterproof trousers would have been useful but I think I thought I was too cool for those - yeh, in that mac!

The course is so designed that there are toilets situated fairly regularly - either public or private at people's houses, opened just for the day of the walks. I used them all. I was no more than two thirds of the way round when I ran out of towels. And I'd taken plenty, I'd thought. I didn't want to give up so I kept going. Walking in the rain. Getting wetter.

It wasn't long before I was aware that my 'nappy' was feeling more and more sodden. I felt uncomfortably duck like in my gait, with a waddle and a bulky posterior. I kept walking. Trying to ignore the leaking sensation, less of a leak more of a deluge by now.

At the next checkpoint I gave in and asked the Marshall to ring my dad. When he arrived I had to use my mac as a seat covering to protect it from the blood that was flooding through my jeans. Dad drove a defeated daughter home.

The next time I specifically recall a leaking incident was the next summer on a Quaker youngsters holiday in York. I was 14. There were probably about 60 of us all staying at the Mount School and having trips out and doing activities and crafts. One morning a large group of us were in a meeting of worship. Sitting in Quakerly silence for half an hour, as we did most mornings. I was wearing a light blue pencil skirt, my favourite, and a blue top.

Part way through this meeting I felt something in the pant department. I was mid-period and wearing a sanitary towel but in those days they were much less efficient at absorbing the blood and it wasn't long before I could sense that the towel was failing in its containment efforts. I wasn't very confident and didn't feel able to get up, walk out of the room and go to the loo to take preventative measures with all my peers sat in silence watching me. I didn't want any attention drawn to myself, so I sat there in the corner, feeling the blood flow and waiting for the meeting to end.

Once it had ended people took their time in leaving. I tried to wait til the room had emptied but I realised by that point I just needed to get out of there. I had no jumper or jacket on to wrap around my waist and conceal my embarrassment so when I stood up one of the lads saw the back of my light blue skirt and said

"Ewww, you've sat in something!"

I made a great show of shock horror, craning my neck to see the offending stain, examining my seat and suggesting offhandedly,

"I must have sat in some chocolate..."

And exited stage left tout suite! Sounds like I was cool about it, but believe me as a girl of 14 who cared what others thought, I was mortified. Hence I suppose that has stayed in my mind ever since.

I don't think I wore anything light coloured after that. Not for years. Not until I was on extreme hormone pill doses which was the only thing that calmed down the bleeding. And that had to be taken continuously because any gaps and bleeding was still horrific.

I always use burgundy coloured sheets - I've been drawn to that colour ever since I first went to college and needed to supply my own sheets. Just recently I've started using white ones and immediately reminded myself why that wasn't a good idea by bleeding all over them from a dicky gum!

So why the white trousers?? Why indeed, uncertain, Helen, anonymous - you are quite right to think me insane.

I bought them about 4 years ago. I was still on continuous hormone replacement therapy and had been for about 15 years. So 15 years with no periods whatsoever. None. Still never bought any white trousers cos you never know when you might scratch yourself on a bramble, or meet with a cat's claw, either of which can cause a good two or three hours of persistent bleeding - more than enough to ruin any white clobber.

I think it was coming up to my wedding and we were planning our honeymoon. I'd gone to Debenhams to look for some holiday clothes and found the trousers. I wouldn't have even tried them on if they weren't in the sale :) But they were and they dazzled me into thinking I'd look glam and gorgeous on my honeymoon, swanning around like a film star in white pants. I forgot my severe bleeding condition in an attempt to be a foxy lady. I bought them.

Wore them once on the moon and immediately spilled red wine or some other such coloured concoction down them. Since then they've pretty much been relegated to the 'wear on holiday if you are going somewhere very posh but not if you're likely to be eating or drinking whilst there' category - i.e. never worn!!

Until this year when the trend for super long tops came back in.

Aha! I now have a couple of tops that are floaty and loooong. Down to mid thigh if not a tad longer. I can wear trousers with my bum concealed. And that to me means I can wear enormous knickers with night-time sanitary towels and no-one will ever know!! Hurrah!!

So. I got out my White Trousers. I've even worn them a couple of times. Admittedly not while I've been mid-period, i.e. most of every month. But I did wear them with said floaty number for a meal out with hubby. And managed to keep them clean.

So why did I wear them last week, when I'd just started bleeding? And with a top barely skimming my buttocks - there I've said it again! What possessed me?? God only knows... All I can say is that I had a handbag bursting with sanitary prods, I kept my back to the toilet door and never ventured more than 3 metres from that door. I went to the loo more often than even I with my toilet addiction normally do and I didn't relax the entire evening, not once. But it was my sister in laws celebratory engagement drinks and if you can't say to hell with it I'm wearing my White Trousers and damn the bloody consequences then, when can you eh??

You gotta rebel sometime, even if it is only in the form of light coloured clothing ;)

X