So, in my new life of liberation and feminization, I have one weakness I have yet to conquer: the wearing of pantyhose. I know, I know, it's a male invention that was created to make women even more uncomfortable in the name of beauty. However, I just can't seem to shake my mother's urging to not leave the house in a skirt in winter time without hose on-- to do so would be an utter fashion faux pas. I hate wearing them though... they are itchy, often too small and tight, and you must constantly tug them so you don't get the dreaded "elephant feet". Who said I needed black legs if I'm wearing a black skirt?? What's wrong with my ghost-white, slightly fuzzy legs on a Sunday morning? Besides.... isn't this war-time? Don't they need my nylons to make parachutes or something?
Well, I suppose for now I must be off to Church, scratching and tugging along the way.
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For me, pantyhose in the winter in Provo was a matter of SURVIVAL. It was too cold to go without. My thin Arizona blood would freeze within minutes of leaving the apartment! It's obnoxious, but man, I'd rather have warm itchy elephant legs than cold anything else ones.
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