Monday, June 14, 2010

Nylons: Classless apparel for hairy albinos since 1935

Pack up your guarders. Fold away your stockings. Tuck your tights up too. Prepare for annoying detail number 27,459: Parisians don't wear nylons in the summer. EVER.

Seems to me, over here nylons have one purpose -- ONE ONLY, ladies. And that is: to protect you from the cold. Ok, well maybe they do occasionally dawn those lacy numbers for the sheer fashionista woman-hear-me-roarness of it, but they manage to make me feel like I'm some kind of ice cube who needs to be covered head-to-toe. Is it above twenty degrees Celsius? Then they wanna see some skin, biznatches!

I learned this the hard way last summer and anxiety has been growing, along with my leg hairs over the last seven months. (Don't ask how I never figured it out before, this is just one among a plethora of chronicles detailing my culturally-defective retardacity.)

I've mentioned that style is not where I excel. I have come to terms with the fact that if being trendy were a sport, I'd be in the special Olympics... no not even. I'd be holding the little plastic cups of water. MMM. Still not good enough. I'd be that loser cleaning up the trash left in the stands. It's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it.

In my world, nylons and their kin are like Swiss army knives. They were designed for multiple purposes. They're useful when:

1) Why are you hitting yourself? HUH??
My skin is a f*cking pussy. If I bump into something, anything, I'm covered in cuts and bruises like I just starred in the last Die Hard. No point trying to avoid it anymore, I'm going to turn black & blue at the slightest encounter because my epidermis is about as thick as a baby butterfly's wing. Without my stockings, V's reputation would be on the line -- I don't like the idea of my colleagues thinking I'm a battered wife. 

2) I'm in the "grow-mode".
I've converted. Back Gillette! Keep your distance Schick!! I avoid shaving whenever possible so I can go to the "esthéticienne" and get my wax on. Side effects: You can't exactly go every two weeks once your body gets used to it, so there is an inevitable "grow-mode" where you've just got to bite the depilatory-applicator and get furry with your bad self. Nylons come in handy during this phase. Just a week to hold me over, that's all I need... but I can never seem to escape the "OMG aren't you dying in those?" comments.

3) Mask the winter-white

I am "fair skinned". This is actually code for "Freakishly Translucent". I've tried not wearing nylons. You know what the result of that experiment was? I'm not going to tell you. It was too frightening. Let's just say it involved people screaming, running, throwing garlic, holy water & crosses at my feet.

4) Hide the summer-red
You know what's worse than being white? Being PINK. Not just, "I jogged and have a healthy-glow" pink. I'm talking THIS kind of pink ('nuff said.) :

I need my camouflage Frenchies. The defense rests.


  1. I'm with you. Kinda. As one of the freakishly translucent ones who bruises very easily, too, I relate to every sentence you have written here. Plus, I am over 40 and have had two babies ==> varicose veins. I cannot abide the feeling of nylon pantyhose on my legs, though. My solution? I do not wear ANYTHING in the summer that requires my legs show! Loooong skirts, 3/4 length pedal pushers/capri pants. That's the route I have to go.

    Your arguments Pro Hose are very convincing. I say you just keep going on with your bad self and wearing those hose! Power to the pantyhose!

  2. I applaud you. I cannot even wear nylons. Oh no. No no no. I need fully OPAQUE leggings--such is the level of bruising and ingrown hairs (and other shaving disasters) on my legs. Talk about bruising and scars...If I were about 10 kg skinnier, I would earn myself a spot in a methadone clinic just at the sight of my legs alone.

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