The Tights

In the past, sexy was not a word that I associated with myself. Smart. Sarcastic. Sometimes Silly. All of these descriptors were easy for me to take on. To claim as my own. But sexy? Ha.

As I've gotten older, wiser and better dressed, I've slowly been able to accept that there are times when I am sexy. And I've started to buy clothes specifically with that purpose in mind. I'm not talking deep v-necks and clear plastic stilettos but dresses tailored to show off certain parts while camouflaging others and pretty heels that showcase my legs.

Sometime during my sophomore year of college, at the beginning of this transformation, I walked into a Banana Republic during a Make Myself Feel Better shopping spree. After picking up a new pair of jeans, I walked around the accessories section looking at shoes and started glancing at the tights. I hadn't worn tights since Catholic School. They reminded me of furiously scratching my legs while wearing unfortunate plaids. But the fishnets that I found in my hand that day were not like the woolen prisons in which I had once encased my knobby knees. The diamonds were larger than I had seen in similar tights. It would be almost as if I were wearing nothing. When I flipped them over and saw the sale sticker, my decision was made for me. I left with them and the jeans.

The jeans became one of my favorites until they had a run-in with some bleach after my senior year. The small sense of adventure that had gripped me the day I bought The Tights didn't lead to my wearing them. They were placed in the side pocket of a piece of luggage and didn't see the light of day until I found them while unpacking after my move to New York.

Moving in the dead of winter didn't help their cause much. But last spring, with a work event to go to, I pulled them on under a simple skirt. Having recently become fascinated with my legs, I liked the way they made them look. They lifted the outfit out of the mundane. They pulled focus away from my top half where I spend a lot of time artfully hiding imperfections. My black opaque tights, which I love and wear constantly during the fall and winter months, never caused as much of a stir. These were sexy without being over the top.

They gave a flash. A hint. A coy smile. A small wink.