A foxtrot above my head, A sock hop beneath my bed

Blouse: Topshop. Leggings: Primark. Shoes: New Look.


Really being a right rebel this week. Firstly the stripey tee virginity got broken, and now leggings are being worn outside of housing walls. Actually this is a lie… On very rare occasions I wear leggings. And today was one of them. Not sure why. I’m going with the reason I had clean black pants so thought it best to abuse this privilege.

You may laugh when you realise why I tend to stay clear of leggings, and would rather flash my bum in a short dress with tights, but basically I don’t have those “IHATEYOUOTHERTHIGH” thighs. Nope, my thighs are the best of friends. so close that in fact they’re never apart (well for some reasons maybe!). And for me, leggings just don’t help this situation. At least with tights (man alive let’s not debate about the falling downs/pulling up) they pull you in. Suck you in so much that you can see a small clearing in between your thigh BFF’s. And that is why I put aside the hatred of tights, for this one small chance, that one day I WILL see.

Oh but leggings are good when you’ve been to chiquitos the night before and ordered starters, mains and 2 sides all to yourself, then heading out for a big Italian meal with pudding the next night.

Guess it’s 1 – 1 on the leggings and tights debate.

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