In defence of tights

I’ve just booked my first leg wax of 2017. I wouldn’t usually even consider such a thing this early in the year, but we have just booked a last minute break to Cyprus and one doesn’t want to scare the other holidaymakers.

My legs are only exposed to sunlight in the UK for an average of five days a year. For four of those, I’m alone in the garden, suffering unbearable heat and humidity in the hope my alabaster pins will become slightly less translucent.

On the fifth day, I might, just might, wear a skirt or shorts in public, exposing the bottom half of my legs. But only for a couple of hours, before scuttling back into the safety of the house.

I have a strained relationship with my legs – and I’m talking aesthetically here, as my arthritic knees have already been well documented.

Unclothed, my legs are an omnishambles:

Terrible cellulite, which no, I cannot embrace. An ex-boyfriend once responded to my plea that he cut his gnarly toenails with: “well look at your thighs… that cellulite”, while visibly shuddering. I feel his pain.

Cankles (not quite calfs, not quite ankles). While at University, one of my housemates became hysterical at the first site of my ankles, with shrieks of “your ankles, what’s wrong with your ankles? They’re so fat”. I kid you not. She thought they were hilarious.

A doctor once asked why my ankles were so swollen. I hadn’t realised they were. They’ve just always looked like that.

It’s embarrassing folks.

I am not at peace with my legs. So they stay undercover.

There, within the privacy of trousers, or tights and boots, my legs are my business.

Then Summer comes and all around, people gleefully expose their bottom halves, feeling the freedom and coolness of ventilation.

Me, I prefer to battle on in tights.

There are currently 102 separate product listings under ‘tights’ on Marks and Spencer’s website. I might be single handedly keeping them in business. I have shape shifters, secret slimmers, cellulite reducers and cool comfort moisturisers, in several shades and patterns. If only M&S made one pair that does all of the above – a ‘total control’ version – I wouldn’t need to devote a whole chest of drawers to my hosiery.

Tights have had a bad rap over the years. But consider these advantages:

  • They hide/flatten cellulite
  • They pull everything in and up
  • They always fit, even after that extra bacon sandwich
  • They cancel out the need for hair removal
  • They prevent knicker-flash in high winds

So please, when you see me wearing tights in August, don’t try to persuade me to bare my legs. All I’m asking is for my legs to be unremarkable. Is that too much to ask?

Much love, Vx

In defence of tights: tights get a bad rap, but I have several good reasons to believe they are the heroes of hosiery, even in the height of summer.