more adult habits

Growing up, my mother had a horrible time getting me into anything that was too clingy on my legs–from stretchy stirrup pants to tights. I cried. I took them off when I got to school & put them back on on my bus ride home. I felt constricted, bound together against certain movements. She eventually gave up & would ask only in passing I readied myself for proms, "Aren't you wearing any hosiery?"

I didn't.

Last year, I realized that not all tights are bad. My hate for things touching my legs is no different; I prefer any skirt or dress to a day in jeans. But now, I see tights & leggings (gasp) as a way to wear skirts or keep my jeans from touching my legs all through winter.

This change happened just in time, because if you don't wear hosiery in France, people will ask you about it. Aren't you cold? Don't you have tights on? Why are you wearing socks with those shoes when we would just wear beige hosiery? (My argyle socks are not the hit here that I was expecting them to be.)

I have several pairs. I also have a habit of ruining them after three days of wearing them. I thought it best to scope out the French hosiery shopping scene before it was needed. They're everywhere, so that was easy... but I also realized how frustrating & inhibiting the advertisements & packaging are.

(image source one & two)

I don't look like this. My legs are half as long. My stomach is doubly wide. The elastic band of my tights forms a crease across my stomach. I don't wear my hosiery with only high heels. I don't expect the top of my tights to look nice; I don't expect anyone to see the darker part of my tights. 

So why don't they show what our tights would look like when we wear them at the office or in the classroom? Why don't the pictures show how the tights look sticking out from your knee to your foot while you're dressed in your work suit? Why don't they use women that represent the sizes on the packaging?

I put on my tights one day, sucked in my stomach & arched my back. Despite not having shoes on, I looked like a girl in an advertisement. I almost came close to sort of having abs. I thought, "Could I feasibly walk about like this today? In front of my students? While Joe & I make dinner? While I grade papers?"

We can't. But we're fed the possibility that we can; I just haven't quite figured out for who yet. Who are we advertising for? Who are we serving–when we buy? when we wear? when we suck our stomachs in & arch our backs?