I'm glad Christmas is over, notwithstanding the miracle and everything. I've previously explained my problem with milia -- those nasty little white bumps that look like zits but aren't. Yesterday morning the last survivor on my nose spontaneously erupted, spewed out like a party streamer, and now it is gone. It's a Christmas miracle.
I would pay money to see it explode again.
By the way, I'm attributing the miracle to Saint Jojoba. I stopped slathering on anti-aging products and have used nothing but jojoba oil as my face moisturizer since this summer. I suspect my skin is now properly balanced, but I don't know for sure if that's why the milia finally went away. Perhaps it is not for us to know. You just have to believe.
Maybe it's the law of miracles, but it seems like everytime something good happens (exploding milia) something bad (nude pantyhose) slithers in from seemingly nowhere. I realize this is tender territory. Some of you love your nude pantyhose/stockings/tights or work in a setting where they are the expectation. And plenty of men love you for wearing them. I get that, but it still saddens me to learn they might be making a comeback.
That sneaky Kate, the Duchess of Cambridge! Certainly she and her legs look lovely and amazing in sausage casings, but I do not want to go there. I remember wearing girdles and garters in the 8th grade, which would have been 1969. My mother introduced me to pantyhose that same year, and I thought it was a miracle. Be wary of family members bearing gifts.
The next 20 or 30 years are a blur. It's hard to remember, but I feel certain I wore pantyhose through some of the 70s and all of the 80s. With the exception of job interviews, I abandoned them sometime in the 90s, but that's only because I switched to pants. I didn't start wearing skirts and dresses with bare legs until the turn of the century.
My hosed years. No fond memories for me. I tried every brand, every color, every size, every weekend. Wouldn't it be great to buy back the time you spent shopping for pantyhose? I liked to keep a stack of five in my drawer so I'd have a pair a day in case it all went horribly wrong. Even then, I'd get down to that last package and just pray I didn't snag a run putting them on. I seem to recall more than one emergency trip to the grocery store on the way to work.
Do you remember trying to stop a run with nail polish or hairspray? Cutting the bad leg off two different pairs and then wearing both good legs as a matched set? Colors that should have been named sunburn or fake tan? And travel buff! I vividly recall a woman who was a big wheel in the Junior League -- I worked with her on a community project. She wore travel buff, I know because I asked, and I always thought that color was a sign of elegance and class. Sadly, I was no pale flower, and travel buff looked like white tights on my olive skin.
One of the cool things about getting older is that we develop confidence in our unique style, and we don't have to be slaves to fashion. If you like to wear pantyhose, you wear them. You don't care what Kate does, and I don't either. To be fair, I actually think nude hose can be quite attractive, the good ones anyway, and I can sort of see the longing for a polished facade after years of unprecedented skankiness.
I like to look contemporary and stylish, but if we should somehow land in a kingdom where pantyhose rule, I will be wearing pants.
