Friday, February 8, 2008

Stockings Stuffed to Perfection

Although Michael and I don’t always necessarily agree when it comes to fashion*, sometimes he’ll surprise me with a gift that is so out of left field and awesome I just have to crow about it. One year for my birthday it was a fabulous silver hinged necklace, that same year for Christmas it was coordinating earrings (Asymmetry! Wonderful!), and this year it was my Christmas stocking.

Along with the obligatory jewellery (“What do you want for Christmas, Jes?” “Sparklies!”), he remembered how much I love nice leg wear. The first pair I unwrapped was a lovely charcoal heather pair of Ralph Lauren angora socks. They are toasty warm and best worn in boots – especially since the boots I’ve been wearing this winter are cheap plastic numbers. But he outdid himself on the second pair – Givenchy Chevron Opaque 80 denier black tights.

These tights are fantastic with skirts and flats, or capris and boots (although I am nervous about the second combination, given my penchant for catching my tights on the zipper while crossing my legs).

Here’s the thing with expensive tights – you get what you pay for. These tights are so stretchy that it would take some pretty ragged fingernails to do damage to them. (This isn’t to say I didn’t put a teeny tiny little hole in them the first time I wore them, but I’m especially gifted when it comes to ruining new tights. I patched it up with clear nail polish, and it’s high up on the thigh, so it’s nearly invisible.) They are warm, the pattern is beautiful, and I can’t wait to go and buy more Givenchy tights!

On the subject of leg wear, I must say one thing I hate about tights is the gusset. When I am wearing stockings I am a fan of the garter belt/stocking combination, but I have yet to find a pair of high-denier tights which are a stocking style. If you see some anywhere, let me know!

*Examples include:
“That coat is weird. It looks like five coats all mashed together.”
“You look cute. And swashbuckling”
My personal favourite, starting with a scan from the feet, “Yeah, that’s a great outfit.” Then he gets to my head, with my hair in a pseudo-pompadour, tilts his head to one side, and wrinkles his forehead in consternation. He looks a bit like a cocker spaniel when this move is preformed.

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