About Uniforms Part 1: Introduction – Where Did That #dailyuniform come from?

Happy February!¹This started out as “Happy New Year.” I’ve been working on this damn post since November 2024. Here’s to hoping 2025 is better than we’re expecting.

Think of this as an introduction to a series of posts. The first, hopefully, of many, though frankly, I’ve never been one to finish multi-part stories. But, you know, it could happen so let’s be optimistic

This, much as is the case with spanking, may be a topic I can write about forever.

If you follow me on Twitter or Bluesky, you may have noticed that for several months, I’ve been posting (terrible) selfies wearing school uniforms, sometimes remembering to tag them with what I thought was my own made-up hashtag, #dailyuniform.²But of course, others use it for other stuff, too. Why? Well, frankly, I’ve been in the spanking scene since 1997. Even allowing for ones I’ve given away as my size changed, I’ve got A LOT of uniforms. Why not enjoy them?³Like spanking, uniform kink is a habit for me. The more I do it, the more I think about it, the more I want to indulge. And on and on.

The way I think about uniforms and what they mean to me has several facets. So, let’s get started with my uniform biography.

California 1973-1985

I attended Catholic schools from primary⁴Co-ed through secondary school,⁵All girls wearing uniforms daily from kindergarten through high school – ages 5-17. My family moved a few times within Southern California, requiring me to change schools and, thus, change uniforms.   I wore ⁶Pinafore jumper, a white round collar shirt, and a royal blue cotton sweater. from K-6th grade in this plaid, another plaid for grades 7 and 8, a grey skirt for my first two years of high school, and a (happily discontinued) brown wool one for the last two. Wearing my schools’ uniforms wasn’t ever something I resented. I liked how they looked, felt, and, best of all, that at school and after school, on and off campus, we were all dressed alike, that is, in the same uniform so that it was clear we all belonged together. I liked being one of many, not standing out, blending in.  For me, school uniforms = community.⁷And by “community,” I mean a community of *girls*. Boys were a completely alien species throughout my girlhood. As, with a few notable exceptions, men tend to be now. So that’s where I came into the spanking scene: with memories and love for Catholic school uniforms circa the 1970s through the mid-1980s and good memories of being one of a group of girls, all dressed alike.

The Interwebs – 1997

January 1997, I delurked on alt.sex.spanking. There are other people into spanking. A good few of them are into

In late February, entered my life “Pablo Stubbs,” aka Paul, bringing his version of the uniform fetish into my kinky universe. (Our spanking fetishes were already much the same — mostly pretty narrow and completely nonsexual.)

Paul also has a uniform fetish, as anyone who read his (super famous) early (1996) alt.sex.spanking stories “Such a Good Girl” and “Such a Naughty Girl,” posted as “Pablo Stubbs,” back in 1995 or 1996 (I forget) can attest, before I came into his life. Sharing enough of his kink and adopting it as my own via our shared fantasies and writing opened up a universe of gymslips, kilts, blazers, knickers, school shorts, ties, and, much more uniquely, snug snug collars. The first story he wrote for me, putting his uniform fantasies explicitly beside mine in some detail, was “Safety”⁸. Imagine waking up to that in your email. Yeah, it had the same effect on me too. This story has always been a favorite. It’s because of this story that, once I started to play in real life, my safeword has always been “safe.” written in 1997, a little more than a year before we met for the first time in person. These UK uniforms are nowhere near as comfortable as my Catholic school ones and not at all suited for the Southern California climate, but they are definitely “smarter.”

British-style uniforms also for me evoke the tradition of boarding school novels and memoirs, books I’ve read since I was six or seven years old. Each time I’ve been to the UK, I’ve looked for them in used bookstores and thrift shops and bought at least one; over time I’ve amassed a bookshelf full of them. They have wonderful titles like The New House Mistress⁹by Elinor M. Brent-Dyer (1940) and St. Winifred’s or The World of School.¹⁰by Frederic W. Farrar (1909). I’ll write more about these someday — they are a constant sort of pleasure and deserve their own post. My St. Clare School stories are my attempt to weave my fantasies into that world.

Moving Uniforms into Real Life – Discipline and Punishment

Since 1997, my interest in uniforms as a form of discipline — that is slightly to very uncomfortable, needing to be tidy, and, in scene form, being checked over carefully –something that is all about being seen– to make sure all is worn correctly — has developed so far as to be equal to the one I brought to this relationship. Wearing things correctly and looking neat across all the various exacting little nuances is super challenging for me to manage. No matter how hard I try there are almost always some tiny, picky errors, some bits of untidyness and messiness. Why? Not because I’m trying to intentionally provoke my partner  –by the time play, discipline, or punishment scenes are at a point where I’m directed to wear a specific uniform, the likelihood of getting a spanking (or even more likely a thrashing) of some sort is about 110%. Imagine that I tend to be beyond eager to please at those moments. Nor is it that Paul is trying to find reasons to smack me, usually on my thighs (trust me, he never has to look very hard). Rather, it’s that I’m by nature (see: ADHD in girls): inattentive, clumsy, distracted, and messy. This was true when I was a child, and it’s just as true now. Schoolgirl me was and is the kid with unbrushed flyaway hair slipping out of pigtails, her socks falling down, shoes scuffed and untied, ink or drink on my shirt, buttons missing,  and, always, inky fingers.

Some recent examples:

1. As said above, I have super fine, wavy hair that never holds any style for long—there are always fly-away strands. No matter what style I try or how many products I use, within an hour, I look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backward.
2. When I wear a tie, I way too frequently forget to check and make sure my shirt collar is laying correctly in the back as well as the front. Despite my promises to change this, my tendency to rush means I miss this all-too-frequently.
3. I didn’t notice a button was missing from my left shirt cuff until it was too late.
4. My shoes generally aren’t clean or polished. Given that this requires serious forward planning (not something I can do when told to change into a uniform), I don’t see it as likely to change.
5. Recently, when writing lines, rather than pointing out that the line was too long and/or that the pen I was using was running out of ink, I wrote pages of what were, for me, messy lines. I also got ink all over my fingertips, though my sub-par handwriting was so terrible that the ink slipped by.
6. Waiting too long to get ready so ending up rushing and making mistakes.
7. My ankle socks have ruffles rather than being simple. ¹¹For realz. This was a thing.
8. Recently, I spent 20 minutes starching and ironing a uniform shirt only to spill coffee and not notice ¹²This would be unlike Paul, who did notice and brought it to my attention by whacking the back of my thighs… repeatedly. Ouch. that while cleaning it up I dragged the edge of my sleeve through it.

Now while every crease and button being in perfect order matters a lot when I’m wearing a uniform as part of a scene or within the real-life discipline/punishment dynamic, those times I feel far less like an actual school girl than I do when my uniform is much more thrown together, shirt wrinkled, gym slip pleats imperfect and maybe in need of a dry cleaning, things faded and imperfectly sized. I will explain more about that in a future post, but having everything “just so” for me is much more fetish-y. Rather than “feeling like a schoolgirl,” when everything is new and perfect, I feel like I’m “dressing as a schoolgirl.”

There’s also the “oneness” or “lonely-only” element of “dressing-as-a-schoolgirl” for lack of a better term. For me, to really be in a uniform, there has to be an element of, well, uniformity. There ideally needs to be others wearing the same uniform. At one time, I had a few friends with whom I had a uniform or two in common  — at least to the point of us having matching ties. While this was years before FaceTime made it possible to real-time body double remotely, we’d sometimes agree to wear the same uniform at the same time throughout the day, as much as we could, sending each other notes or even pictures of our uniforms all set out on our beds before the day started. Ah, the wonders of being a grad student at the dissertation stage.

So what’s to come? Lots!

1. Sourcing! Where are the best places to get what sorts of uniforms? This has changed quite a bit over the years, but I’ve still got a few tips.
2. Being knotty in uniform – Learning to tie a school tie.
3. Memories of shopping for and wearing uniforms as a child. Sub titled “It’s August, we must be at Dennis Uniforms.”
4. Uniforms as part of real life discipline and punishment.
5. Wearing uniforms in public as an adult – what that’s like for me and the difference between wearing sneaky pieces that no one can notice and going all the way. This post will also explain why everyone needs at least one school blazer for travel.
6. Shoes, socks, and tights!
7. Role-playing in uniform — the style that works for me and what doesn’t.
8. Books – ways my uniform fetish has influenced my reading and vice versa.
9. The amazing wonderful feeling of wearing uniforms with a friend.
10. Physical discomfort—I’ve always had uber-sensitive skin, and some parts of the uniform (I’m looking at you, stiff-collar school shirts) irritate my skin. How do I work with that?
11. Real new old stock school knickers: how to mend and care for them.
12. Anything and everything else. This topic definitely falls under my “special interests.”

If you’d like me to write about something uniform-related or if you have specific questions you’d like addressed, let me know in the comments. This series of posts will all be under the pink banner used at the top of this one.

For every comment left anywhere on the blog between now and March 2, 2025 you’ll receive one entry for the raffle for this lovely London Tanner paddle. 

• 1
  This started out as “Happy New Year.” I’ve been working on this damn post since November 2024.
• 2
  But of course, others use it for other stuff, too.
• 3
  Like spanking, uniform kink is a habit for me. The more I do it, the more I think about it, the more I want to indulge. And on and on.
• 4
  Co-ed
• 5
  All girls
• 6
  Pinafore jumper, a white round collar shirt, and a royal blue cotton sweater.
• 7
  And by “community,” I mean a community of *girls*. Boys were a completely alien species throughout my girlhood. As, with a few notable exceptions, men tend to be now.
• 8
  . Imagine waking up to that in your email. Yeah, it had the same effect on me too. This story has always been a favorite. It’s because of this story that, once I started to play in real life, my safeword has always been “safe.”
• 9
  by Elinor M. Brent-Dyer (1940)
• 10
  by Frederic W. Farrar (1909)
• 11
  For realz. This was a thing.
• 12
  This would be unlike Paul, who did notice and brought it to my attention by whacking the back of my thighs… repeatedly. Ouch.