All those computers and tablets and electronic readers, and so many marvelous books (who hasn't read Remember the Shagmeister? Such a wonderful book! I know the author personally. It's ME!) We have cell phones so we can all be in touch with each other 24/7 (if we happen to want to be in touch 24/7—but some of us don't). We even have Casual Friday. On Demand allows us to watch our favorite television shows at midnight, midday or mid-whenever. And God bless Facebook so we can stay in touch with our high school friends who now live in Outer Mongolia, the ones we wouldn't recognize on the street even if they wore name tags. Don't forget Twitter where the most mundane among us can interact with famous people (assuming those famous people actually do their own tweeting—but, alas, many don't). By the way, how arrogant and rich do you have to be to pay someone to be your tweeter?
There really isn't much from "before" that I miss. Oh, yes, there are a few things, of course—things like dresses with full skirts, gathered waists and belts (I'm short, dumpy and curvy in all the wrong places) and, like facial hair, a properly gathered-at-the-waist, full skirt can hide a multitude of sins. Heaven help me if I'm forced to wear some long, straight, tight thing—all you see is an unfortunate excess of jiggling boobs and hips toddling toward you. I also miss simple, uncomplicated microwaves. My first microwave had "Off" and "On" and it did everything I wanted it to do. My current one would cheerfully drive me to work if I knew how to ask it, but I don't really need that particular function. All I need my microwave to do is what my original Off/On microwave did—nuke frozen stuff and pop popcorn (although I have recently learned that it makes the tastiest, most succulent corn on the cob I've ever tasted). As for everything else? Fear not—the stove and I have the rest of it covered.
But oh how I miss one stupid little bit of the past! Pantyhose! Oh, yes, of course, pantyhose are still around. I know they are, because I still wear them. My serious question to you is what woman in her right mind can truly think her dry, scaly, veiny, bare legs are attractive? I have to wonder how this wretched habit of no panty hose got started. Who was that first idiotic, arrogant little nincompoop who decided one day either that (1) her legs were just so beautiful that she should share them in all their naked splendor with the world, or (2) she was simply too tired that day to go through the process of putting on a pair of pantyhose. Whatever her reason, she must have enjoyed the naked inelegance of her legs so much that she did the same thing the next day. And the next. And the next. And so on...
I have one friend who can get away with it. She has lovely tanned, well-oiled legs and she wears slacks most of the time. So, Vickie, my dear, you get a pass. But as for the rest of you ... particularly if you're wearing a skirt or dress...and MOST PARTICULARLY if you're dressed for an evening out...OMG! I have seen the loveliest ladies with their snow white, razor-bumpy legs sticking out from below the most stunning outfits, completely ruining everything. If I can somehow get past Snow White's pale, dry legs, her feet present the next unaesthetic obstacle. Ladies, the tops of our feet are bony, with tendons and other unnamed thingies flexing and moving around when we walk. May I say UGH! A discreet pair of pantyhose tones it all down, brings it all together, hides the imperfections!
I know this is the brave new world, but, ladies, what happened to pride? I completely understand summer and shorts and sandals. Even I, with my pantyhose fetish, would never wear the things with sandals or shorts. But ladies in lovely suits or designer evening wear complete with exquisite stilettos–sans pantyhose—look as unfinished as Gwen Stefani without her red lipstick (by the way, don't get me started on this "natural" pinky-flesh-colored lipstick stuff—Gwen and I think lipstick should be RED! Right, Gwen?) or Indiana Jones without his hat.
Finally, who among you can truly say you like that sweaty feel of your naked feet in your shoes? And that icky, squishy sound as your sweaty feet stick to them when you walk. I am so averse to all that moist discomfort that even when I'm wearing jeans or slacks and slip on a pair of loafers without my pantyhose, I end up immediately removing my shoes and dumping powder in them so my feet will stay nice and dry. It also allows them to slide around inside my shoes without squishing. The downside of that particular attempt to placate my feet is that I end up with little puffs of powder encircling my feet like Santa with "smoke encircling his head like a wreath." It can get a little embarrassing, but I will do almost anything to avoid the squish!
I have no delusions that my rant will change the course of fashion. But the next time you see some woman, beautifully dressed—but bare-legged—you might just remember this silly blog and think to yourself, "You know what? That old gal was right. This fashionista's naked legs don't look nearly as good as she thinks they do. As for mine...hmmmm...I wonder..." If you then take a few seconds to look around the room and check all the corners, you might just find me tucked away in one of those corners, smiling and giving you a big thumbs-up. I'll be easy to recognize—the only one in the room wearing pantyhose (and, of course, red lipstick.)