Stocking Up

All right, here's a little entertaining tidbit for all you morning voyeurs out there...

So it's perhaps not one of the most advisable things to admit early on in a blog, but I hereby declare myself to be a fan of the stocking -- that's right; not tights, my dear friends, but stockings. You know, the ones that either are attached to a garter belt (oh, the daring!), or those that manage to hold themselves up on their own, or what my sweet boyfriend likes to refer to as les Dim'Up, after that one grocery-store-bought brand of leg binding...

And I have to admit that these have always been a preference for me, for various reasons, not the least being that I find them comfortable, moreso than those sausage-like things that wrap around my stomach and cut off my breathing for hours at a time. Plus, heck, a girl can use a little je-ne-sais-quoi on a daily basis, n'est-ce pas ? I like that feeling of mystery and intrigue, that I'm wearing something that could possibly be perceived as devilishly provocative -- when in fact, my reasoning is much more practical. Plus, they really are much prettier than tights (even if you can't see them)! If I can't manage to take risks in my life on a higher level, at least I can take risks in the choice of my garde-robe.

So they have never failed me, have always stood up (*literally!*) to the test of time, and made me feel confident rather than self-conscious, feminine rather than school-marmish.

That is, up until now -- enfin, I'm beginning to question my judgment on this one, after this morning's antics. And trust me, I'm fully capable of embarrassing myself in more than one way, as my readers will soon find out. But this one just takes the cake. Of course, it could have been worse (it always can), but just imagining my observers makes me cringe...

Because I should have nipped this one in the bud, but unfortunately my ill-advised penchant for stockings caught me up short, if you will. As I exited my morning train and ascended the escalator to the street which leads to my office, I felt the pinching at first -- an uncomfortable feeling at the top of my leg which should have been a warning sign for me to act quickly. But no, I figured I had ample time to make my way down the street before the stocking slid all the way down my leg, to oblivion...

And of course, per my usual, I was running under the wire -- that is, I needed to walk quickly to make it on time -- which was not very helpful for my predicament. But as I stumbled my way down the avenue, I had a reassuring thought: ah, I had at least had the foresight to wear a longer winter coat today, so in fact I was fully protected. No one walking behind me would know, and I could hold the coat tightly around me to prevent it from billowing out. Because, after all, I couldn't see myself stopping in the middle of the street to hike up the stockings at that point; it would have to wait until I was in the safety of a restroom...

So as the stocking slid, I kept up my clipped pace and figured I'd be home free in no time. Er, but, in my haste I had completely forgotten that in fact my lovely winter coat has a SLIT up the back, or what some may refer to as a "vent." So I stopped dead in my tracks, halfway down the street, the realization sending chills down my spine. Here I had been thinking the world was oblivious to my embarrassment, but NO, in fact all passersby were fully aware of my dilemma -- and were probably snickering to themselves as they made their way to their own offices, the end of their morning commute, fully enjoying the street entertainment in front of them.

And to add insult to injury, just as I resigned myself to the fact that I had no other solution than to slink my way forward and hope not to run into anyone who actually KNEW me, a fresh-faced young lady pulling along a suitcase made a signal as she passed by that my stocking had reached the top of my slim suede boot -- that's right, she wanted to let me know that I was no longer fully clothed, JUST IN CASE I DIDN'T REALIZE IT MYSELF!

OK, here's where I have to admit that I should have been grateful, that I should have gracefully acknowledged her tip and smiled with surprise, or simply slipped out a meek merci... But for God's sake, do you think I didn't feel that thing falling down? Do you think I could have managed to be oblivious to the fact that I was losing a leg covering in this chill (albeit humid) morning air?

Er, so yeah, thanks suitcase-lady, you brought my attention to something that I hadn't even noticed, and now that makes me feel a heck of a lot better about myself.

Harumph. So of course now I'm settled into my desk for the day, stocking stretched all the way up to my ear, and I plan on yanking at that thing all day long to be sure this doesn't happen again.

But do you think this will stop me from wearing my favorite hosiery again in the future? Ah, how little you know me... It's a rare occasion when I actually learn from my mistakes or my misjudgments. I tend to like to repeat them on occasion, just to remind myself how much more I still have to learn, how very human and truly flawed I am.

There's always a first time...

For everything, I guess. So here I am, finally, throwing myself out there and hoping this will be as cathartic as I'm hoping... But we shall see! No expectations, no hopes, no pressure: just a new beginning to what will surely become an addictive habit.

Enfin, maybe!