The Vintage Switch

32 year-old queer, disabled, autistic, aspiring Jewish convert enby bringing you consensual power exchange, domesticity, vintage aesthetics, and anti-tradwife content Carrd: https://vintageswitcheroo.carrd.co

[vintageswitcheroo]

Hello, Tumblr! It’s me, Mrs. Pidge Almina DePeche. Trying to figure out what exactly to put in my introduction post…

I guess I should start at the point that I started to get into vintage things. My first real exposure to a glamorous, idealized view of the past came with late-night Disney channel specials that dated to the 50s and 60s. That was my first real exposure to the mid-century aesthetic, hourglass strapless gowns and red lips. I grew up in the 90s, which had an aesthetic I would say was as far from that as you can get.

That was mostly just a passive appreciation as a single-digit child, though. It wasn’t until I turned 10 and discovered the Second World War that I *really* began to develop a vintage obsession.

For decades, now, I have admired the spirit of the Allies and the aesthetics of the wartime western world. Study and living history have given me an appreciation for the world my grandparents experienced and the battles their siblings fought to ensure freedom for the downtrodden. From sewing period dresses to cooking ration-friendly recipes, I try to remind myself as often as possible of the values and realities that shaped my parents’ parents’ world.

Even though I’m an American, I also have a particular affection for the British experience during the war, because they had it so very hard, and they kept up so admirably well, and they stood strong in the face of hellfire raining down on them and the threat of invasion for years before we stepped up to help them. They were the line in the sand between evil and the free world, and they held no matter the cost.

I’m a vintage lifestyle, not vintage values, person. I believe wanting to live in a way that highlights and honors the contributions of my grandparents and great-grandparents to the world during that time is antithetical to romanticizing the idea of the will-less, limpid, thoughtlessly submissive woman, and I have no patience for the fash. I’m in a lesbian relationship, I’m not only a woman though I was assigned that at birth, I am constantly working to unpack my biases and my privilege. I’m autistic, I’m studying to become Jewish. I am NOT your future tradwife. I am one of the ones tradwives think belong in walled ghettos, and I am getting my grubby little hands all over their floral prints and home-baked bread.

Aaaand…yes, I am a dirty-minded, kinky bitch. My appreciation for the WWII era is inextricably linked to certain salient experiences I had as a 10 year-old involving iconic imagery of the time that set my little prepubescent heart a-flutter. I cannot talk about the era and my love for it without talking about my fetish for many things about the time period, from visuals to fiction tropes and more.

There are some aspects of me that like the idea of being the Don Draper Daddy type, drinking scotch out of a gold-rimmed glass in a corner office. There are other aspects of me that love the idea of being the saddle-shoe wearing co-ed with a bow in her hair and a flirtatious smile on her lips. There are parts of me that want to be the darling pin-up singing at the USO show. A part of me that longs to be the Daddy’s girl waiting at home with open arms for the conflict to end. And a part of me that wants to tie on an apron and bake cookies for a petulant brat or two.

Throw all of that into a blender and pour it into a soda fountain milkshake glass, put a little cream and a cherry on top, and pop in a pastel paper straw, and I guess that’s me in a nutshell. At least, the pieces of me I am choosing to present here.

A vintage enthusiast whose interests span a large portion of the early and mid 20th century, but center firmly on the Second World War and the immediate postwar years.

A neurodivergent weirdo with a hyperfixation on the ever-receding past.

A queer person who performs femininity on my own terms rather than in the way I am expected to.

A horny degenerate who will spank and be spanked in turn, depending on my mood.

In other words…Pidge.

[vintageswitcheroo]

Let’s talk about tradwives.

I want to talk about tradwives for a second.

When I was a teenager, I had a terrible breakup with an abusive girlfriend and I ended up shocking my totally normal parents by retreating hard into a world of hardline fundie Christian doctrine, and for a brief period there was a side of whyte nationalism as well.

It was the first time I had experienced having my heart broken. My world turned upside down, and I became convinced, after falling down a rabbit hole online that began innocently with historical costume patterns, that the only way to feel safe for the rest of my life was to find the kind of man who wanted me to stay at home and never work.

I know now that that’s not safety. And that safety isn’t a mountain you climb once and stay at the top of forever. But I worry when I see all these young women aspiring to be tradwives or being them already. I wonder how many of them are retreating into the idea of being a tradwife out of fear of the future.

And you know what? I’m afraid of the future, too. I think most people right now are. But there are legitimate reasons to be afraid, rooted in the urgency of modern problems that need global solutions, and there are illegitimate reasons rooted in bigotry and exclusion.

And in either case, the path to security isn’t down the aisle with a man who doesn’t view you as his equal.

I wish I could tell my 16 year-old self that.

But since I can’t, I’ll just say that into the void, and see if it lands on any ears that need to hear it.

Of course, not all tradwives are tradwives out of fear. But I truly wonder how many journeys down the path of reduced personhood and exclusionary thinking are rooted in fear and trauma.

Regardless, my ask box is open.

[fairy-humor-deactivated20210822]

[vintageswitcheroo]

Alright, I promised to get saucy, so let’s get saucy.

Before we get started, I’d like to note that I talk a lot in this post about how 24/7 dynamics don’t work for me. Please don’t take that to mean I don’t think they are healthy or perfectly valid for others! They’re just not how I express my kinky side. Now…

Let’s talk about my weakness for brats.

My introduction to the BDSM community was through a very hardline, old-fashioned mentor (who had many other issues, but that’s for another time, if ever…) and as such my exposure to what I’ll call parental caregiver/parental care recipient relationships (as an umbrella term) for most of my 20s were strictly caregiver D-type, little s-type. Typically, age regression was a given. I was 25 before I even heard of the concept of a middle, a care recipient s-type whose persona is that of a pre-teen or teenager, rather than a younger persona. Older than that before I heard of caregiver/recipient relationships that didn’t specifically involve age regression.

I’m a switch, but I’m not suited to being a long-term D-type. As a Switch I can top and scene with the best of them, trust me. Sometimes I have a strong urge to be dominant. But just in general 24/7 has never worked for me, either as a D-type or an s-type. It just isn’t what my relationship with my wife needs, and it always became unsustainable in polycules.

I found out at about 26 that I had a huge pull toward mothering a brat with an older teen/college-aged vibe, but it didn’t seem quite right, because I didn’t have any D-type urges in that context. I didn’t want to micromanage a brat and force them to better themselves and make them do chores. I wanted to indulge them.

And I know now there are plenty of caregiver D-types who ARE indulgent in a lot of ways, but it still didn’t resonate with me to call myself a “mommy Dom.”

I was almost thirty when I kind of carved out this idea of the “mother submissive” for myself. And granted, I’ve been out of the community for a long time, both in-person and online, so I have no idea if this is an idea that has been codified or readily accepted. It’s just what I decided to call this part of myself, because in my interactions in Mummy mode, the brat is absolutely calling the shots.

Where this intersects with my vintage self is the idea of the perfect mid-century mother, in pearls and heels and hostess apron, doting on her family. Putting little notes and homemade cookies in their lunch boxes. Picking out perfect birthday and holiday gifts. Making sure they’re bundled up before they leave the house on a chilly day. Telling them firmly that the brownies are too hot to eat but ultimately giving in to letting them have one before it’s completely cool, as long as they promise to blow on it.

On days when I lean into this part of myself, I generally bake and make dinner. Oftentimes I’ll make nostalgic food for my wife, quintessential gamer snacks of our younger years while she slays zombies or causes mayhem in the Old West. Bringing her pillows and blankets on the couch so she has a nice little nest. Responding to her requests and demands and pouts with indulgence. And, usually, getting wrecked at the end of the day, because she loves toying with me and making me scream, and I love being toyed with and pushed over the edge. I think she likes watching me suck her off as much as anyone who actually has the equipment enjoys the view.

And after all, as Mummy, I have to take care of my darling’s needs…whatever they may be.

It gives me a sense of fulfillment. It’s not a thing I could do every day. It’s not a life I’d want to live, that kind of service and inequality all the time, and she doesn’t want it either. But it’s a fun little game we play once a month or so, where I make her the center of attention in a different way, and she soaks it up in a novel context.

So that’s one of my big vintage-adjacent fantasies. I hope you had fun reading about it! Maybe you even got a little tingle…

[vintageswitcheroo]

Even with little engagement and no clue what tags to use at this point, yesterday’s post felt SO good. It felt like in the process of writing it I articulated some things about myself I’ve had a hard time putting into words for a while. I created a kind of proto-manifesto of what I want to focus on here, a part of my life I want to nurture.

So where to now?

As I write this, darlings, I have just finished a cup of tea and am listening to the British Home Front Radio broadcast on TuneIn, a broadcast provided by a UK radio station. I like to expand my musical horizons beyond what I usually hear on my Spotify playlists. The only thing is they don’t tell you the names and artists…

But I digress. I dithered for a while about what topic to choose for this post. It actually took me a good day to come up with something. I’ve kind of been drawing a blank about subjects, so I guess I thought I’d talk about hobbies I have and how they relate to my vintage obsession.

Right now my two most engaged-in hobbies are knitting and baking. I love them both, and each have their challenges and ways they relate to my love of the past.

I love, love, love to bake for my wife and others, and I love to make a nice, timeless, old-fashioned treat. I recently made malt loaf, which I originally saw as a technical challenge on the Great British Bake-Off and thought sounded interesting. It turns out, it’s absolutely delicious, at least to us. Full of the dark sugar flavors of muscovado sugar and black treacle, with malt extract and dried fruit added, it’s a beautifully unique piece of quick bread that tastes even better after a couple of days wrapped in parchment.

It’s also very much an “old people” recipe, with only the upper-middle-aged bakers on the episode having the slightest clue what it was in the first place. It dates back to the late 1889s as a Scottish packaged food, but recipes eventually popped up.

I also love classic shortbread, especially in jam thumbprint form, and my wife also loves those complicated marshmallow teacakes, but I’ll bake just about anything. I’m really interested in doing more WWII baking, using recipes developed to make the most of what was available during rationing. I also have a strong urge to bake a classic battenburg cake. I just love them. So colorful!

I just ordered a Canadian ration recipe book, and I’m excited to see what’s in it, both for baking and cooking. I’ve discovered that many rationing recipes are delicious in their simplicity! They often leave room for experimenting with whatever herbs and seasonings you can get your hands on; thyme is a favorite around here. I wish I cooked more, and I’m trying to get in the habit by making sure I have lots of cool recipes to try out, at least one new and exciting one a week seems to be a good bet.

I’ve also been knitting! I’ve been doing double knit colorwork on a fandom-related scarf. It’s challenging, but it’s really fun, and the yarn and the double-fabric nature of the finished part makes it nice and squishy and cozy. I plan to make a stuffed pigeon as a sort of mascot for our living history group soon, make him a little garrison cap and mail bag, and name him Fred after Fred Astaire, who always played the mailman in those Rankin-Bass holiday specials.

I can sew. When I put my mind to it, I’m actually quite good at it. The trouble is I find all the little marking and pressing to be SO tedious. But I really need to sew. I’m just outside the size range of a lot of vintage reproduction brands, especially brands that make authentic 1940s wear, so I simply must get into the habit of sewing so I can have an everyday, and event-focused, wardrobe.

I’m also just a plain ole researcher. Not by trade or even by training, though I did study humanities. I just enjoy research. I love learning about things I’m interested in. I have a gift for finding obscure answers with verifiable sources. I’m one of those tropey girls who will spend hours in the library. I want to know everything about domestic life during WWII and the postwar period, frankly, and nothing can stand in my way when I’m in a researching mood.

The last hobby I’ll talk about here is writing. Ever since third grade, when our teacher had us keep a journal she would give us prompts for, I have loved to tell stories via writing. My first ever novel attempt was the story of two resistance fighters in wartime Germany escaping to Sweden, way back in 4th grade! I never finished it, which has always bugged my grandmother. She really liked the plot!

I always have too many ideas to finish them all, and ADHD brain frequently gets distracted during the planning phase and jumps ship to another one. I have a Dieselpunk book I wrote that takes place on a planet inspired by the world during WWI and WWII, one in a series that needs finishing. Right now I’m working on planning the first book of a cozy mystery series about a couple who goes to vintage events in the present day, because cozy mysteries are a nice, simple, fun brain break between more serious writing.

So those are my main hobbies, the ones I go back and forth between most often, and how I engage in them in a vintage context.

Next time I post, I plan to be a little…saucier…as it were. ;)