Tights Can Be Tricky


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

I had gone on a few job interviews and realized I needed to spruce up my resume. I promptly made an appointment with my law school's career counselor. By promptly I mean I mentally noted to myself a need to meet with a career counselor in September. Then I waited until mid-January to actually make an appointment with a career counselor. Procrastination is a skill that I put a lot of effort toward. I was able to get an appointment in late January.

The day of the meeting was a freezing cold January day in Minnesota. As I was getting myself business professional ready, I realized I only had one pair of black tights. My most professional looking suit was a skirt suit. I was too lazy to find an appropriate pant option, so I decided to pair the tights with the skirt suit and go with it. Because what could go wrong?

After getting dressed, I hopped into my car and drove to my law school, which is located in a busy part of the city and has limited parking. The best parking options are on the street, and require a 5-to-10-minute walk from car door to school door.  At negative 20 degree temperatures, this walk is brutal.

The morning of my meeting was a particularly chilly and windy morning. The closest parking spot I could find was four whole blocks away from the school.  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 fun. As I began walking toward the school, I felt the top of my tights creep down my stomach. Just a little slip and slide but definitely noticeable. Tights are supposed to be tight and these felt a bit loosey-goosey for my taste. The faster I walked, the more I noticed the tights slipping down. I made a mental note to stop in the restroom before my meeting for a readjustment.

As I get closer to the school, I am more panicked about my (non)tights situation. The tights are no longer on my stomach. Are they even covering my belly button?  Nope.  The only thing holding up these tights is my rear end.

Luckily, I was 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 to assess the situation.  The tights were not as far down my bottom as I had originally thought, but the elastic at the top was completely worn. I thought about ditching the tights, but it had been a few days since my last shave. I made the decision 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 like a whistle.  I felt empowered and ready to attack my job search with gusto. I would start my job search anew as soon as I got home. Then I stepped back into the frosty weather. I had completely forgotten about my wardrobe issue.

I walked the first block without noticing much movement from the tights. 

The second block proved more difficult as I could feel the tights moving again. I could not tell where the tights had slipped to, but I figured everything would be fine. I made it into the school and so this walk should be no different.

WRONG. At the start of the third block I could feel the tights hitting on my upper things.  They had a mind of their own and they wanted off my body.  I spread my feet out real wide and started walking like one of the green army men in Toy Story.  I was attracting attention from passing cars and crazy Midwesterners who love to walk and bike in the winter.

I was so close to my car, I couldn't give up. 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 inching down my thighs with each step. 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 below my skirt line. Eek.

To make matters worse there were two women walking towards me with a dog.  I turned around and saw a guy jogging towards me from behind. An audience when I need it most.

With my tights just an inch above my skirt line, I made a crucial decision to run towards my car like a maniac.  I figure maybe my speed could beat the tights' speed.  So, I ran in 3-inch heels, a tight skirt, and failing hosiery.  By the end of the third block, I'm sorry to say that my tights were around my knees. I kept running because I was committed to creating a spectacle.

As I start up the fourth block, the tights are around my ankles like shackles.  I could not run in full strides due to the tightness of my skirt, the height of my heels, and now the tights around my ankles.  The two ladies walking their dog stopped to gape. The jogging man slowed down as he passed me and asked if I needed help?  Sir, I'm an unemployed law school graduate standing on the sidewalk in the middle of winter with her tights around her ankles. I'm beyond help!

I stopped running and slowly walked the rest of the way to my vehicle. The game was over, the tights had WON!  All of that vim and vigor from my meeting completely washed out of me. If only I'd worn the pant suit, I thought.

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