For years and years and years I kept my legs firmly hidden away whatever the weather. Looking back now I can see that I wasted the best leg years of my life. What an idiot. I can’t quite remember if there was an actual light bulb moment but a couple of years ago now I decided to release my legs into the world. Whether the world was ready to see them or not. I mean how bad could it be? They’re not that hideous. And even if they were, they’re only legs. What is so scary about legs for goodness sake?
The best thing about getting old is that you learn not to give a stuff. All of a sudden, a simple thing like getting my legs out didn’t seem like such a trauma after all. The irony being of course, that actually they are much more of a traumatic sight than ever before but I just don’t care. I like to put a spin on that and say that my legs will never be quite this young again. And actually I couldn’t give a stuff if somebody else doesn’t like them in all their brilliant white glory. There is something so liberating, in fact, downright rebellious about losing body hang ups. I can highly recommend it. Whether or not your legs are quite as old as mine.
So when the sun shines, my legs come out. If you are lucky, I might have even shaved them. Although I nearly always miss that tiny patch on the side of my right knee no matter how hard I try. But that is about as high maintenance as my legs get. One of the reasons why I always kept my legs hidden away before was because I have never quite mastered the fine art of fake tan. But things have been so much easier since I’ve learnt to embrace my pasty pins instead of stressing about turning them the wrong shade of orange.
Hats off to those who can do the fake tanning thing though. I’m the kind of girl who can break a nail in her sleep so it really is beyond my capabilities to spend an hour in the bathroom and come out looking like I’ve spent two weeks in the Bahamas. Too orange, too streaky, too smelly.. Ugh. And how do you not end up ruining your bed sheets? I think I value my fresh white bed linen much more than I care about having brown limbs which says it all really. Hello middle age! But I really can’t be bothered to even try to learn how to do it properly. Nor do I relish the thought of paying somebody else to do it for me while I stand behind a flimsy curtain in paper pants. That would be my worst nightmare quite frankly. No. Pale and (not particularly) interesting is working out just fine for me thanks.
Hoorah for legs! The lovely ones, and even the not so lovely ones. Who cares? Legs are only legs!
P.S. Of course, since first drafting this post, the sun has disappeared. So have my legs. But wasn’t it a lovely three day summer while it lasted?