Every winter, I use anywhere between 10 and 20 quality pairs of stockings. Every winter. Somehow they always end up laddered or ripped. I’ve now accepted that this is an unavoidable part of life (and winter).
Thing is, in the past (like two weeks ago) I was very happy (more like OK) with ripped stockings. I worked in the Cape Town CBD’s Fringe District where if you see someone with stockings that’s NOT ripped, they’re either going for an interview or some formal engagement. However, I now work at a very big, very corporate, very conservative financial services company where wearing ripped stockings will put your female colleagues in such a tizz they’ll all go and get you a proper pair from the conveniently situated mall right in our building.
Problem is, I put on perfectly good stockings in the morning but as soon as I, well, as soon as I start living (ie moving outside of dress zone) there are dangers everywhere. Then when I leave my flat, I have to wade through the maze that is public transport and the danger of (unavoidable) contact with people, objects, buildings and walls… a guaranteed friction on my stockings BEFORE I even get to the office.
This morning I resolved to accept my fate.