Being in my fifth and final year of high school, I had to do one week of work experience and my mother said I could do it at the agency she manages. the other kids in my class did similar; one working with his dad on a building site, another at his mother's pie shop, one at the factory his dad works at... so there was nothing all out of the ordinary that I'd do my week at the travel agency where my mother works. It's on the high street in town and most people only see the shop on the ground floor. What they don't realise is on the two floors above are two busy telesales offices where the 'girls' make and take bookings. That's where Mum works and that's where I'd be working too. There were some forms to fill in for insurance and what-not that had to be signed by parents, teachers and the employer, plus guidelines to adhere to... and once all that was sorted, Mum told me that since all the 'girls' wear tights and heels, I would too.
Of course I was mortified, convinced she was teasing me to begin with... but
it was 1985 and if an employer said that their staff must wear three inch
stilettos, tights and a skirt suit then that's what their staff had to wear.
And since many such places were staffed solely by women, there was no such
thing as a male dress code, at least not where my Mum worked anyway.
Mum had me practising in high heels for over a month beforehand; every day after school and all day on Saturday, and that's when she made me try on some tights and a dress too. I hated the tights but Mum said I'd get used to them, and they did feel a lot better once I had shaved my legs which, somewhat ironically I thought, Mum told me I wouldn't need tights. "What?!" I exclaimed. "You told me to shave my legs so my tights wouldn't itch and now I've shaved my legs you're telling me that I don't have to wear tights now?" I ranted.
