To be honest, I've never understood leggings.
I never got the mentality of "Fuck yeah, let's show off the graceful silhouette of my ass crack today. Don the wife beater and have my Muffin Top hump my Box Gap at the intersection of Slutty Bum Cheek and Showing Slight Bit Of Ankle Road."
But at some point in the last five years, a demon Carrie Bradshaw rose up from the abyss and made them a trend, so now they're fucking everywhere and I jumped on the bandwagon, like a pleb.
"Hmm, how can I be a diamond grade, egotistical, exercise nutcase and show off to the world the fact that: Yeah, I Squat. Oh I know! I'll walk around looking like someone has dipped my bottom half in black varnish, leaving nothing to the imagination so through the mundane duration of walking down the street, the public can bear witness to the most intimate details of special spots."
That and every now and again I have the thought of: "Fuck pants. Seriously. Pants are just shit." This is undoubtedly followed with a flamboyant Quicker Than ChipnDales maneuver of removing said pants, an art form I have perfected to a 1.7second average.
It's not that simple.
Going out to buy pair number 7,000 yesterday, I stumbled. I went to Jay Jays because they're $20 and machine washable. (Single handedly the most important feature a garment can have for me and quite frankly I just can't keep dishing out the dollars for Black Milks).
Yep, cool XS that's the smallest size, try them on...
I am aware that I'm skinny, but I'm not THAT skinny. I have shape and muscle and definitely am slightly bottom heavy, owing the calves to The Boss who is pushing 6'7" and designed my kitchen making it impossible for me to reach the back of my oven without standing on my toes.
They were too big. Not excruciatingly so, just enough so that I can pull them up nice and tight and as long as I don't walk, breathe or make any sudden movement whatsoever, I can avoid having my knees look like a Bulldog's face.
So now my day is accompanied by the constant fucking stress of having to hitch them up - legs now looking like the transformation from Homer Simpson to Grandpa (See scene of the marathon and dehydrated Homer).
My point being - why was there no smaller size? There were plenty of bigger sizes... Seeing an XXL pair of black patent 'leather' leggings just made me want to screech: "NO! DON'T ENCOURAGE THEM!!"
Camel toe due to an overweight girl in yoga pants is actually a fear of mine.
I like leggings, but I'm sorry, unless you're Miranda Kerr and your 6 foot 100, slender, stilts of perfection are lickable and delicious, instead of resembling a large bratwurst with a kink in the middle - wear an appropriate top.
For example, maybe a long jumper? Or a singlet that actually covers the less than aesthetically pleasing curves of your rectum.
When worn approriately, (and I really should capitalise, bolden and slant the word appropriately) boys apparently like the cruel intentions of the designers from the Autumn/Winter 09 Milan fashion shows. Best thing to happen since women took up pole dancing as exercise. But for me it's like corset tops. They will not suck everything in and whoever told you that is a dirty liar.
But back from my rant to my problem, it makes me wonder where are the skinny girls buying their leggings?
And does anybody know a way I can shrink these up? Without resorting to eating lots of cake and burning my yoga mat.