Monday, August 25, 2014

Tights Can Be Tricky


Many moons ago, I was fresh out of law school and had just passed the bar exam. I was also unemployed.

I had gone on a few job interviews but really wanted to spruce up my resume so I promptly made an appointment with my law school's career counselor. By promptly I mean I decided to meet with a career counselor in September and waited until mid-January to make the appointment. Procrastination is a skill that I put a lot of effort toward. My appointment was set early on a Wednesday morning. Long story short, I ended up at the hospital with my grandma into the wee hours of that Wednesday morning. I went back home and was able to get a couple hours of sleep before my meeting. I was stressed, tired, and frazzled. Not the best combination, but I needed the help with my resume and decided that I should keep the meeting.

As I was getting ready, I realized that I was almost out of black tights. It was January in Minnesota, so freezing cold out, but my most professional looking suit was a skirt suit. I was too tired to find an appropriate pant option, so I decided to pull on the one pair of tights in my drawer, throw on the skirt suit, and go with it. Because what could go wrong?

After getting dressed, I hopped into my car and drove the 20 minutes to my law school. The law school that I went to is in the city and has limited parking. The best parking options are on the street, and usually require a 5-minute walk from car door to school door.  At negative 20 degree temperatures, a 5-minute walk is brutal.

The morning of my meeting was a particularly cool and windy morning, but the closest parking spot I could get was four whole blocks away.  With only 10 minutes until my appointment and no other options, I had to take the spot and brave the elements.

Here's where the story gets a little interesting. As I began walking towards the school, I could feel the top of my tights creep down my stomach. It was just a little slip and slide but definitely noticeable. The faster I walked, the more I noticed the tights slipping around. Damn, I thought, is the elastic starting to wear out on these tights? I made a mental note to stop in the restroom before my meeting to readjust myself.

As I got closer to the school, I was getting panicked about my (non)tights situation. They were no longer on my stomach. They weren't even covering my belly button.  Nope.  The only thing that was holding up these tights was my rear end.  But my gluteus was proving no match for the slippery nylon as I could feel the tights moving down my rump.

Luckily, I was extremely close to the school entrance, and there was a restroom right inside the front door.  I ran a few steps and dashed into the restroom.  As I got into a stall, I assessed my situation.  The tights weren't as far down my butt as I had originally thought, but the elastic was completely gone from the top.  At first I thought about ditching the tights, but it had been a few days since my last leg shave. No, I was going to stick it out and keep the tights on. As long as I could get through the meeting I would be fine.

I made it through my meeting.  My resume was polished and shiny as a whistle.  I was feeling empowered and ready to attack my job search with gusto. I would start as soon as I got home, I thought as I stepped outside into the elements.

I walked the first block without noticing much movement from the tights. I can totally make this, I thought.  The second block proved more difficult as I could feel the tights moving.  At this point, they were basically riding right along the largest peak of my ass.  I thought if I walked with my butt sticking way out, then maybe the tights would stay where the were.  Gravity, right?

Wrong.  At the start of the third block I could see my car pretty far in the distance and my tights were no longer around my ass.  They were hitting at my upper thighs and had a mind of their own.  These tights wanted off my body.  I spread my legs out real wide and started walking like one of those green army men from Toy Story.  I was definitely attracting some attention from passing cars, bikers, and those crazy Midwesterners who love to walk in the winter.

But I was so close to my car, I couldn't give up. And even if I wanted to give up…where would I go. I couldn't take my tights off in the middle of the street.

My wide-legged walk worked for half of the third block.  By the second half, the tights had beaten my walking game and were now inching down my thighs with each step.  It was getting embarrassing.  My skirt was about an inch above my knee, so by my calculations I only had another inch before the top band of my tights was actually below my skirt line.

To make matters worse there were two women walking towards me with a dog.  They were going to see all of my embarrassment.  Then I turned around and a couple blocks back I saw a guy jogging towards me.  Great.  An audience just when I need it most.

With my tights just an inch above my skirt line, I make a crucial decision to start running towards my car like a maniac.  I figured that maybe my speed could beat the tights' speed.  So, I run.  In 3-inch heels and a tight skirt.  It wasn't pretty.  By the end of the third block, my tights are around my knees.  I am just a couple of feet from the ladies with the dog, a few feet from the jogger, and many more feet to my car.  But I keep running.  I was committed.

As I start up the fourth block, there was no denying what was happening.  My tights were now around my ankles like shackles holding my feet together.  I couldn't run in full strides due to the tightness of my skirt, the height of my heels, and now the tights around my ankles.  Two ladies walking a dog stopped to gape.  I think they thought I had been attacked.  The jogging man slowed down as he passed me and asked if I needed help?  Sir, I thought, I'm an unemployed law school graduate who is standing on the sidewalk in the middle of winter with her tights around her ankles. I'm beyond help!

I stopped running when I was about two car lengths away from my vehicle.  There was no point in running, the game was over, the tights had WON!  I slowly walked the rest of the way, all of that vim and vigor from my meeting completely washed out of me.

So, an important lesson for a woman in the workplace: always check your tight bands for elasticity.