This weekend, I did something I haven’t done since I was small. In fact, I don’t even remember the last time I did it it was so long ago, but I’m pretty sure it must have happened once.
I went out in a dress, but didn’t wear tights.
This may sound like no big deal to some of you, but it kind of feels like one to me. I hate the way my legs look. Not because of the scars from the operations I’ve had, but because they look weak and scrawny, and my poor circulation in them and my feet means that they always look a slightly blue of grey colour where my arms do not.
I’m a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl most of the time, but when I do decide that I want to wear shorts or a dress or a shirt, I always wear tights, whatever the weather. The thicker they are, the happier I feel.
However, the UK has been having some lovely hot sunshine of late. A lot of the people I meet seem to say they’d be happier if it was a little cooler but Im quite happy for things to stay as they are for a while. I find it easier to move around when it’s warm and I seize up in the cold. But at the weekend it was so warm that I had a feeling I would cook in my thick, wooly tights, so I made a decision. Rather than be uncomfortably hot, I would go bare-legged and if anyone didn’t like it, then that was their problem.
I felt a bit self-conscious at first, but I soon forgot about and just focused on having fun shopping. I occasionally caught sight of myself in a mirror which brought it back to the forefront of my mind again, but for the most part, I forgot all about it.
I felt a sense of acomplishment when I got home again. I’m glad I did it but I’m not sure I could make a habit of it.