Coming Out in My Leathers: How Fashion Shaped My Confidence
As I continue my story of how my life in leather began and led me to where I am today, I’ve reached the mid-eighties — a time when I was transforming from an awkward, shy, “good” girl into something very different.
A leather-loving woman
At the time, I was in my late teens. Innocent on the surface, but underneath I was discovering desire, confidence, and a growing fascination with leather that was impossible to ignore. What began as curiosity was quickly becoming something far more powerful — and far more exciting.
My Leathered Life Begins
In my previous post, I was at the point where leather had already started to take hold of me. I lived in my leather biker jacket — a gift from my boyfriend —, and I’d secretly bought my very first pair of leather trousers.
Here are some Similar Real Leather trousers On Amazon
Those trousers were worn only in the privacy of my bedroom. Slipping into them felt electric. The smell, the tightness, the way they hugged my body — it awakened something sexual in me that I couldn’t pretend wasn’t there.
But I knew that wearing leather openly would shock my family and friends. My Catholic upbringing hadn’t exactly prepared anyone for a daughter strutting about in tight black leather. Sexual confidence wasn’t expected of me — let alone going out dressed like a kinky Catwoman.
Still, the yearning wouldn’t go away.
I needed to wear my leather where and when I wanted — even if it gave my parents heart attacks.
Girl on a Motorcycle
Part of me was still shy. I didn’t want attention… yet I couldn’t stop thinking about wearing my leathers out in the world.
Around that time, I watched Girl on a Motorcycle, starring Marianne Faithfull. She spent much of the film riding in a full leather catsuit — and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The story barely registered. All that mattered was her, wrapped head-to-toe in leather.
I replayed that film endlessly.
Something shifted. Not only was I drawn to men in leather — I was now feeling deeply aroused by a woman in leather too. Marianne became my first real female crush, and I masturbated to that film more times than I could count. I probably wore the tape out.
If you’ve never seen Girl on a Motorcycle, it’s still available on DVD and streaming — it remains one of the most iconic leather-heavy films of the era.
Looking back, that film marked a turning point — the beginning of a love affair with leather, desire, and fantasy that would shape my life.
A Little Honda, A Big Idea
By the eighties, leather was everywhere. I noticed women wearing it more and more — and some of them looked incredible.
I wanted to feel my leather on my skin all day long.
The problem? My parents were strict. Skirts couldn’t be too short. Blouses couldn’t be too tight. There was no way they’d accept me parading around in tight black leather from head to toe.
Then, one afternoon, lying on my bed in my leather trousers with Marianne Faithfull riding across the screen yet again, inspiration struck.
If I had a motorbike… leather would be practical. Protective. Sensible.
So off I went with my dad, and together we bought a little black-and-silver Honda moped. Not a roaring Harley, but I didn’t care. All I could picture was myself riding it in leather.
I told my parents I’d be buying “waterproof trousers” to go with my jacket. They weren’t convinced — what was wrong with the bus? — but I sold it as freedom, independence, and safety.
What I didn’t tell them was that this little Honda was my passport to leather.
Are You Being Served?
My mum assumed I’d change out of my leather trousers when I got to work.
I didn’t.
I wore them all day — tight, shiny, and deliciously creaky — and it felt incredible. The looks I got were impossible to miss. Men stared. Some women did too. I didn’t mind one bit.
If anything, I think the leather boosted sales.
Customers came back more than once. Managers lingered. Senior staff suddenly had a reason to “inspect” my department. Bending, stretching, climbing steps — all in tight leather — became deliciously provocative.
One day, as I bent over a drawer, I felt a hand smack my leather-clad bottom.
The sound. The sting. The shock.
“Sorry, Lucy,” a red-faced senior manager said as he hurried past. “I couldn’t resist.”
Today, that would rightly be called harassment. Back then? I found myself liking it. A lot.
Whenever I spotted him nearby, I’d position myself just right — and if the floor was quiet, he’d do it again. I’d giggle helplessly, burning with arousal.
All thanks to leather.
Happy Leather Days
Those years remain some of my fondest memories.
I was awakening sexually. I was learning that men loved me in leather — and that I loved being wanted that way. My wages went on building a proper leather wardrobe: more trousers, leather gloves, coats, even trousers with lace-up sides and low waists that did incredible things to my bottom.
My wardrobe smelled permanently of leather.
My parents still thought it was all “protective gear”.
And I was only just beginning to put those garments to very good use.
Happy leather days indeed.
If you’re curious about wearing some leather today, I’ve linked a few of my favourites styles from back in the day:-
These classic styles are still on Amazon today!
Disclosure: This post contains Amazon affiliate links. If you buy through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you.