Unless you live under a rock (or in some parts of sunshineless Scotland…sorry) you may have noticed the weather’s got rather balmy lately. The perfect opportunity, then, to finally crack out that summer dress that’s been trapped in the wardrobe by all the rain, right? Why not team it with some sunglasses, something that looks a bit like a beach bag and a pair of thick, black tights. Anything in that list look out of place?
With temperatures exceeding 30 degrees in the last week or so, there are still people walking around with a top-half-summer-bottom-half-Arctic situation going on, and having regularly been one of them, I know it’s not motivated by the thought ‘Oh, I love it when my legs feel like they’re going to burst into flame.’ More often than not, it is the fear of unleashing your naked legs into the public.
Why is this? Are they too pale? Too hairy? Too cellulite-y? Says who, the leg police? Well, to paraphrase NWA, I say ‘F*ck the leg police!’ My particular pair of southernmost limbs are pretty short and stubby, propelled by what I can only describe as man calves. They had been safely locked up in jeans/tights/leggings for most of this year until I recently took the plunge, went to the other side, used The Force, ie. went barelegged. And it was fantastic! If my knees could smile they would’ve been wearing a grin bigger than an Oral B model. And do you know what? Not one person came up to me and pointed at my legs, declaring them hideous and demanding them to be hidden away immediately.
And apart from the feeling of ‘legbiration’, there’s also a legitimate health reason for encouraging a bit of air flow in hot temperatures. Your overly explicit PE teacher may have explained it to you once, and a wonderfully graphic Tweet I spotted described it perfectly – it’s like playing ‘thrush roulette’. And no one wants to win that game.
Before the monsoon season returns, I dare you, get your legs out.