I hate that-when I wear the wrong tights. I should just give them away so I don’t keep wearing them. There’s actually nothing wrong with the tights, they are just too big for me–too long. They were brown tights. I wore a brown top, brown tights, brown shoes with a pink skirt and jacket (my Ally McBeal suit). I thought everything was going well together until I arrived at work.
I stepped out of my car and discovered that my tights were wrinkly around my knees and my ankles. Damnation! Now I would spend the entire day surreptitiously trying to pull up my tights. I’d be walking down the hallways at work, doing a stupid jiggy walk trying not to let them fall down and create wrinkly knees. Why on earth would I want wrinkly knees? I’ll get them soon enough I’m sure. Then, I would get to my cubicle and pull them up–one wrinkly leg at a time. My strategy was just to stay in my cubicle all day. Stay seated so the tights don’t wrinkle.
Imagine if I’d pulled the entire set up around my chin? And walked around the hallways like that. I could use my finger to make bbbbbb noises with my lips–like I had just gone a tiny bit crazy. They’d put me in an institution for sure. Maybe–, just maybe, they’d give me medical leave. Hmmmm….