Scarves, vests, boots, ponytails
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A boyfriend who knew what I liked would show up in a white dress shirt, blue jeans and tennis shoes. I'm not sure what tennis shoe might mean nowadays. Back then it meant Keds or some other simple shoe mostly worn by teenage boys. The sports shoes as an exemplar of conspicuous consumption didn't exist. Nike and Adidas had yet to arrive.
Once he visited me at work, bless his sexy self, in mime makeup. As I said he knew what I liked.
I like things about the neck: kerchief, chokers, scarves, loose ties, necklaces (on guys, on women they are invisible).
Boots: yes, absolutely. Ankle-length on guys, any length including thigh-high boots on those in woman's garb.
Ponytails: more please.
Shirts with sleeves just a bit too long.
Caps, hats: I loved the old Carnaby Street caps. They were, forgive the word: cute. And until Madonna poised the image with ubiquity I thought hats on the feminine were pretty enticing.
Vests: plain, colorful. Any gender quality.
Where do these fascinations come from? The tennis shoes is likely an association from the way boys dressed when I was young.
Once I saw a photo of a transvestite wearing what I thought was a Catholic girl's miniskirt. As a young man I don't think I ever saw a girl in Savannah wearing one and know it only from the literature of heterosexuality. I found it very exciting. The origin of my own excitement escapes me.
And what could be sexy about shirt sleeves. I don't know. But they are.
Some erotic fixations, or fetishes if you must are so deeply lost in our personal prehistory that you just have to accept them without ever expecting to understand them.
You probably have a few things that arouse you that you're reluctant to confess or at least baffled by if you think about them twice.