Hold on tight...

 It's only day 12 of October and I'm already fed up of wearing tights.

Whoever invented these weapons of mass destruction should be strung up by the deniers and flayed alive.  I mean, just how hard can it be to create something which hides the milky pallour of post summer legs whilst keeping your knees warm and not falling down?  It's the last bit I have the biggest issue with.  

When I was younger, tight came in age sizes, so there was no decision to make with my woolly navy blue school tights.  I was seven years old, therefore, I wore age seven tights (or up to a year older when I had a bit of a horizontal growth spurt in my early teens).

The tights stayed put, and were only relegated to the bin after falls in the playground.  Do you remember coming home with a smooth, white knee poking out of the tights?  Usually covered with a plaster?  These were darned naturally, but it was only a matter of time before the darn was unpicked to get to the scab.  Actually, that's another thing you never see these days, which is a good sign that kids are not left to their own devices anywhere near enough.

As I got older, tights started to be sized in small, medium and large, so all of a sudden, a decision had to be made as to how the hosiery world saw me.  And these always headed south, usually meaning that a walk not unlike John Wayne had to be adopted to ensure that the reinforced gusset (don't even get me started on that) didn't get past your knees.  I have a vague recollection of having to wear another pair of drawers over the top of the tights to stop them falling down.  I still thank the dear Lord that I was never involved in an accident during this period.  

Imagine the shame at being cut out of your underwear.  'Hold on Bernard, she has another pair on the go.  Another one buying cheap tights then'.

It was around this time in hosiery history that I started knotting the waistband to give me good security around the old undercarriage.  The trouble with doing this was that if you got your knot positioning wrong, then it looked like you had a nasty growth on your stomach, rather than letting the knot neatly nestle in your belly button.  This is all well and good if you have an 'inny' rather than an 'outy', but you can't have it all can you?

Then Spanx came on the scene in sized A to D - why oh why do companies feel that they have to change things for no reason?  I was more than happy grabbing a large of the M&S rail, but I now had to work out from a spreadsheet which was the best fit for me. Although these are expensive, I have to say that they have a lot more stamina than the usual opaque tights you can buy, and I have one pair still doing what it says on the tin a couple of years down the line.

My favourite tights are the ones which come up to my armpits - yes, such a thing exists ladies - as these can smooth out the wobbliest of post weekend tummies.  The trouble is that these can be a bit of a beggar to get on, so a comfortable chair, a shoehorn and a tub of goose grease are advised if you don't want to stop all circulation around your knees.

But I can't wear these tights every day as they don't go with every style of dress, so I am having to adapt some of the other pairs accordingly.  Some fit reasonably well, and can be forgotten about all day.  Others have the aforementioned knot in them.  But there are the odd pairs for which there is no remedy.

The dogs love these for tug of war games.

Well, at least they are good for something...

And as for the picture I've chosen for today, I have only one thing to say...

That has to be the biggest fib since the 'unsinkable Titanic'.  Mind you that beautifully sad ship and my tights have a lot in common.

One sharp object and they are history...