I've witnessed this phenomenon steadily climb up the trendy meter with awe and wonder at those who prance around in a rainbow array of legs- pink, green, purple, brown, black. Paired with long sweaters and boots, ballet flats and scarves it's a fashion movement meant to be unrivaled. So, I pushed all of my insecurities aside and took the leap. I was advised by my younger and more fashion-conscious sister to begin slowly; perhaps just a nice pair of black ones to usher me into the world I've so longed to explore. On a windy Saturday morning I marched right over to Target, credit card wielded high like a sword, and placed a pair of simple, elegant, black tights on the belt. (well, you could hardly see them since I had hidden them underneath a sweater, but they were there). I left feeling mollified, almost proud, swinging that white and red bag into the trunk of my car and had laid out the outfit I would present myself to the world in later on that evening.
Nothing could prepare me for the shock. I did everything right. I triple-checked with my sister to make sure I had not overlooked anything vital. After an hour of staring at myself in the mirror, I succumbed to the horror. I was naked. With very dark, midnight black legs. Flash-backs ensued of a young girl (who will remain nameless considering I have so many readers) in my second grade class who's father had carelessly dressed her in Barbie stockings and had neglectfully forgotten to pair them with a skirt before he sent her off to school. I could not go out into public in this manner. You could see the outline of my butt. No one wants to see the outline of my butt.
After another wardrobe change to a top that more than came to my knees, the tights and I made peace with each other, when they were well hidden( where they belonged. )
Perhaps we were never meant to be. Alas, I'll resume my wary fashion eye and stick to the jeans that my sister lovingly exclaims gives me saggy butt. At least, you can't see anything when I wear them.
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