After more than a little umm-ing and ahhh-ing I finally caved. I’ve been putting it off for a good few months, trying to rise above it all and remind myself that it would be no better second time around. However, under the pressure of boredom and the early onset of a varicose vein (vain, moi?) I finally cracked. I bought what today’s youth (ie. those of us younger than 27) call ‘footless tights’.
Now pardon me for being past it, but when I was younger we used to call these garments Leggings (we also used to call Hip Hop ‘Rap’ but that’s a whole other thing). Big black stretchy things full of that new-fangled lycra which still seemed to go baggy at the knees after one wear and if you added fat black elastic to the cuffs, could be termed ‘ski-pants’. However, this winter there has been a number of gorgeous dresses and tunics cut so short it was only possible to wear them with said tights. In the end it was my possession of a burnt orange tunic from Katharine Walker that did it for me. It was an absolute bargain and I love it so, but I just can’t wear it bare-legged or even flesh-stockinged-legged.
So I glammed up for a gig on Thursday night and went 80’s on my bad self. Big hair, footless leggings, red dress, gold stretchy belt, dangly earrings and tall black courts. In fact, the boys in the band liked it so it obviously wasn’t too fashion-forward. But enough about all this.
Stay with me here, there is a reference to knitting at the bottom of all this. The reason I was chatting about all this cr*p was because I’ve come over all eighties – think Alison Goldfrapp. I’m not quite old enough to remember it all first time round but its growing on me. I am in fact, desperate to knit this bolero on the Knitty website for myself for the summer. Yes I know I said I should finish my other projects first but this one is just so beautiful. No? And it would fit in with my slightly new wardrobe sensibility perfectly…