Everyone is so prudish; it’s hard to be modest if you grew up in a three-room house
with four sisters, a mother and a grabby stepfather-
an averted gaze might be the best you got, but a direct stare was more likely.
When my one of my granddaughters was little, she always wanted to hang out with older people – we would try to shoo her away so that the adults could talk, but she crept in around the edges, so I just carried on as usual and we got used to her.
She liked to sit with me while I got dressed but would shyly look in her lap. I was on the young side for a grandmother, with a figure that would knock your eyes out, even then.
It wasn’t for nothing I was approached by Playboy; 36-24-36…
but I told them, “absolutely not. “
She was amazed by my girdle, my powder, my routines of morning and evening, and kept all my empty jars. I showed her how to put on a bra, you must bend at the waist and wrestle the breast tissue into the cups, then pop up and cinch the straps to heave the girls up for the best view. This made her giggle; when she was older, I mailed her one of my black “bullet bras” from the 50’s with no explanation, I knew she would get the joke.
I had an older friend visit for a few days when my granddaughter was about 10; I told her Ms. Lily was upstairs and she pounded up to find her aged form naked, waltzing from the shower to the bedroom. She didn’t bat an eye and chatted away while the girl looked everywhere but at her, and finally managed to disengage to flee for the playground; Lily told me later “I scared that child to death.”
She must have grown up in close quarters, too.