My father's rubber boots :

       My first memory of boots occurred during the years 55-60 in Unverre. My father was a hairdresser and temporary Postman ; he made his journeys by cycle and, when it rained, he put on his boots : black unlined Baudou. I was between 6 and 10 years old and I loved seeing him come back early in the afternoon. When I did not have a class, I waited to see him return. I even took advantage of the situation sometimes when he was occupied in the shop, by slipping on his boots ; I made sure that no one saw me, but I already had the feeling that I was doing something special.

       One day my father told me that he had been forbidden to enter one farm as he had boots on his feet —although the farmer himself was in boots inside the house !— and they were dirty. The farmer’s wife told him to wipe his feet. So my father took his boots off, carefully wiped his feet, then put his dirty boots back on, without entering the house… This story made a mark on me for ever.

       Between 5 and 10 years old my brother and I did not go to school in boots : it was too near to our house ; but I had school friends in rubber boots, particularly in the winter. There were more than 10 in the class : certainly a lot of them were farmers’ sons. But at this time I was not particularly interested. I must also have had rubber boots at this age but I do not now remember anything about it.

       Later I very much loved to spy on the many guys in rubber boots who came to the bar where my mother worked, next to my father’s little barber shop.

My friend Dominique :

       In 1962-63 I was 12-13 years old and I was always in Unverre. I had a school friend, Dominique. He was a year older than me ; his father was a road mender for the Roads Department. It was at this time that my father died and that brought Dominique and me closer together. I was often invited to go to his house. We then became real friends. More than most of the village lads, he often wore his rubber boots even in his house. He was at college and I was at school and we only saw each other in the evenings ; I wore my short black Baudou to go to play at his house in the barn.

       Often in the evening, he went to look for milk at a neighbouring farm. I did the same but at another farm. We each put our rubber boots on. He came in front of my house, whistled and I went with him. There was no real reason for us to put our boots on, but I put mine on, largely because Dominique had his on his feet. We then had innocent games and caresses behind my house…

       We did not really talk about our mutual taste for rubber boots, but we were aware that it was something unusual that united us. He even came in summer in his rubber boots. In fact he brought them under his arms, in a bag so that his parents would not see. We then played with ourselves longer ; we jacked off and came on our boots.

       Unfortunately when he was 16 his parents moved to Chartres, where, of course, he followed. He went to the lycée and today he is pursuing a career in local politics.

       From the age of 15 to 18 I kept my little Baudou boots for a long time. Then, one day, when I was working in the factory, my mother gave them to a guy who came to work in our garden. I was very frustrated but way of compensation I often spied on this guy when he was working in the garden in my boots.