I thought about writing an ode to pantyhose.
In the boxes, on the shelves,
in the stores, they sit.
In rows, in columns.
Nude, suntan, jet black,
off black.
Control top, reinforced toe.
Pantyhose, the way to go.
They hold you up
when gravity pulls you down.
Sketchy customers ask,
“You wearing pantyhose?”
Uh, what did you just say?
I don’t think so, pal.
Not today.
They frown.
I got 66 words in 15 lines (as seen above), before I remembered I’m not a poet and I suck at rhyming. Other than myself, I’m not sure I know any 21-year-olds who actually have to wear pantyhose on a regular basis.
When I told my friend Mackenzie I was writing an ode to pantyhose for today’s column she shuddered. They’re uncomfortable, she said. She didn’t understand why I would wear them or let alone write an ode to them.
So let me begin by explaining what I mean by pantyhose.
Pantyhose are not the same thing as tights or leggings, in case you were curious. The pantyhose I have to wear to work at the jewelry store are the kind probably most commonly affiliated with a more geriatric generation. They’re transparent. They’re worn usually in neutral tones, ones that match my skin color, or come close at least.
The reason I started, and continue to wear pantyhose is for working at the jewelry store. It’s a mandatory dress code policy for women wearing skirts. Men wearing skirts are exempt.
(Kidding. I don’t think men can wear skirts, but if they did, I bet they’d have to wear mantyhose.)
The first time I had to report for duty at the jewelry store was in November 2006. It was the second time I ever forced myself into a pair of pantyhose.
(The first time I put on pantyhose was the day before. I knew I was going to struggle with them so I practiced dressing myself.)
And, yes, I had to force my lower half into them. There was much jumping, wiggling, pulling, stretching, dancing, all for a shiny-leg aesthetic.
At that point I was 18 and angry at the world. Why did I have to wear pantyhose? They’re stupid. And annoying. And pointless, I thought. After a couple of weeks, though, I started to gain a new appreciation for pantyhose.
Depending on the shade of pantyhose that I purchase, I can make my legs look tan. This, for me, is a huge deal. Under normal, un-pantyhosed circumstances, my legs are so pale that they literally glow when I am outside in the sun.
I wish I was kidding.
Pantyhose are useful for a number of other reasons: they can tone and shape. They help hide visible panty lines. You can tuck shirts into them to keep them from riding up when wearing high-waisted skirts.
Most importantly, pantyhose even help you pick up strange dudes at the mall.
Again, I wish I was kidding.
I have actually been approached by at least one male customer who inquired about my pantyhose. He said he was shopping for a diamond cross necklace. He saw my legs and asked, “Are you wearing pantyhose?”
Uh, what? Yes.
“Do you have to wear them for work?”
Uh, what? Yes.
“Do you like it?”
Uh, what? Seriously? It’s OK, I guess.
“I think that’s really great.”
Congratulations. Security!
He never did buy the necklace I showed him.
Just a little side note, today, Wednesday, Dec. 2, you can receive a 20 percent discount at the Kenwood Dillards by showing your UC ID. I always knew that thing would come in handy for something.
The News Record > Sections > Opinion
Pantyhose benefit, confine fashionistas
The Fashion Dungjen
Published: Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Updated: Tuesday, December 1, 2009 18:12












4 comments Log in to Comment
Boo to bare legs!!!!!!!!!
Pantyhose please come back into fashion!
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