Levi's 501's By Any Other Name....

In my childhood, there were no jeans back then where there were no so-called jeans at all.  Oh, there was certainly blue denim clothing, but there were no jeans, not even blue jeans.  What there were, were Levi's, boot fit for the cowboys who normally wore them on their ranches in the West and also for rodeos, or straight legged for the few civilians who wore them such as my family.  There were only two fits but many sizes, any size that was needed, from enormously large (obese) to very small.  Levi's for grown daddies and grown mommies, and Levi's for little toddlers like me, although the mommies fit was not the same as the daddies fit.  Mommy's Levi's were rounder on the ass and had a little more fabric around the tops of the sides to work with mommy's wider hips.  The ass on daddy's Levi's was more square and allowed for the comfort of the beautiful man's side-sunken, high-riding butt, for daddy's chiseled glutes, and ever since I was taken to my first department store to buy some Levi's (my parents has always bought them for me through the Levi Strauss catalogue, but even as a three-year-old, I wore them) I knew that I could not stop staring at the men's butts in square cut lines as they came out from the dressing rooms onto the floor to look ever so vainly at themselves and ever so surreptitiously but clearly at the other men in the mirrors, and I knew what I wanted.  What I wanted was that I wanted to feel those butts through the majick of the Levi's.  I look back now on my Queer childhood, and I realize that the desire gave me some sense of power.  I wanted to put my face against the men's asses in the Levi's and just nestle there and rest and feel something good.  Levi's made me feel somewhat less self-conscious, more boy-like back then when I knew that only boys wore them, never girls.  I felt, even at three or four, more attractive, more grown up in my Levi's.

I never played with boys back then, always girls.  Boys games were too rough, and there was something about those boys that terrified me.  I did not like them.  There was only one boy whose name was Alfred, Alfred of the fire-red hair, who I am sure is now a Queerman, with whom I ever spent any time, otherwise it was just me and the girls.  Later in my life, I understood that it was the boys' straightness and everything that means to me as a Queerman back then when I was just a boy that kept me away from them.  Always the last to be picked for a team in gym class (weren't we all???), always getting laughed at with terrible derision because I would drop the baseball or that strangely shaped thing called a football which is no ball at all really, out of fear or simply not be able to catch it at all---they laughed at me, those boys, and I was humiliated.  I remember them playing dodge ball with me against the far gym wall and all the other boys trying to slam me with the volleyballs from the opposite wall and middle of the gym, and I was the only boy on that side of the gym getting pummeled by twenty-five other boys whom I hated.  I tried not to, but I cried anyway.

I remember Dennis, baseball-bat-dick Dennis is what we all called him, the son of a cop, and in the locker room in High School he asked me if I wanted to touch his cock.  It was the biggest, most beautiful penis I had ever seen in my life.  God!!!  What an invite!!!  I was in my teens and very hormonal, so I did, and he immediately started screaming all through the locker room, "Goodman is a faggot, Goodman is a faggot".  From then on I always had a doctor's excuse to not have to take a shower after gym class, because the fat, clumsy, effeminate faggot was too embarrassed to be seen without the armor of his clothes.  Even at that age, I was easily triggered sexually, and I was always embarrassed by my fat body.  But, I was good in music class, choir, and orchestra where I played the tympani, which made me feel like A Very Important Person, and Mr. Yegello the orchestra conductor, used to give me tympani solos to begin marches or large classical pieces we played.  The audience attention was just on me and those large kettles with animal skin stretched around the whole top, and I remember how I used to tune them with a tap of my finger, my ear down to the drum heads, and a push of a pedal to raise or lower the pitch.  I felt so knowledgeable and real and important.  I felt like no one could touch me then.  No one could ridicule me.  No one could tease me.  No one could call me faggot.  I was too good, too respectable, too accomplished, and I was where other students wanted to be---in the spotlight.

My mother and all my relatives told me from a very young age that I looked like a girl especially my eyelashes and my mouth and certainly should have been born a girl because "you are so beautiful, and such beauty is wasted on a boy"---their words.

So, to get back to denim, I began my sweet secret love affair with button fly Levi's so I could feel more masculine.  Remember we did not call them that, just Levi's when I was five and was told such things, and they were never called "button fly" because that was the only kind there were. But even then, I was told, I wore them well, whatever that meant for a child.  Levi's always gave ma a hard-on, and I would jerk off smelling the aroma of denim in my nose, and envisioning all those beautiful men trying them on, and what they must have looked like in their underwear in the dressing rooms.  

Because there were only button-fly Levi's, Levi 501's were not even a twinkle in Levi Strauss's eye.  But then, blue denim caught on in the marketing world, and there were Lee Ryder's afterward called just Lee's, then called "Lee blue jeans" and I would not wear them because they did not fit as well, and did not make me feel more like a boy (they would never give me a boner) as I always did feel in my Levi's.  They made me feel more masculine, and that was in the 1950's, and along came the 60's with the beginnings of designer "blue jeans" with bell bottoms and they were pre-faded, and then came the nascent designer "jeans" which were truly ugly with all their piping designs on the back pockets in orange thread, and no brass grommets, designers like Sasson, and Ralph Loren, and then DKNY and The Gap making their own which were not quite so ugly, but those horrible designer labels and logos to me denied any sense of what Levi's were, so I just kept wearing my button-fly's with no underwear all through the 60's, 70's, 80', 90's and then stopped when I got sick in 1996, because they didn't fit me well anymore.  I had lost too much weight.  It is now 2009, and I have been wearing them since  2003.  I still do not wear underwear.