The Emotional Stages Of Wearing Tights

The merits of fall's fashion season are endless: chunky knits, booties, sweater dresses, layering oh my! Unlike their predecessor, summer, the fall and winter seasons allow us to experiment more with different types of clothes (I don't know about you, but I basically just live in simple dresses and shorts when it's warm out) and keeps us cool enough to pile them on tenfold. You can wear the dress AND the knitted poncho, the jumpsuit AND the leather jacket, the pencil skirt AND the wool cape, then add scarves, gloves, hats, boots, and go to town — it's a fashion bonanza, and I, for one, couldn't be more excited.

However, in the heat of fall's fashion positives comes the chilly weather and the impending fashion doom that is having to wear tights. Between the relief you feel when you successfully get a pair on without ripping them to the runs you hairspray two minutes after squeezing your body into them, wearing tights is an emotional roller coaster almost every woman has endured in the fall and winter seasons. Luckily for you, I'm here to hold your hand through every step of the way. Hold on to your pantyhose.

Stage 1: Confusion

So, it's 40 degrees outside and you've succumbed to the fact that you can't wear the fabulous new dress you just bought 30 percent off without a pair of tights. First stop, you need to purchase them. You walk/bike/drive/metro over to your nearest department store or CVS until you find the dreaded wall of hosiery.

You suddenly realize picking a pair will be more difficult than the time you had to break up with your emotionally unstable ex. Do you want control top or knee highs? Opaque or sheer? Nude, black, or colored? Footless or toeless? Lace, patterned, or fishnet?

Once you've decided you want, say, control-top sheer black tights, it's time to figure out what size you need. Time to turn a package over and decipher the splendid sizing chart:

Is this honors geometry?! I thought the point of graduating high school was to never have to read graphs like this again. But seriously, are you an A, a double BB, an E plus? After 20 minutes of inner debate, you say screw this, and just grab one and head for the cash register. They're tights so... they're supposed to stretch, right?

Stage 2: Anxiety

It's time to get these suckers on. After a couple of deep breaths, you open the package, and separate the strip of nylon from its cardboard counterpart. You unroll them until you find the opening at the top. Make no sudden movements or the tights will rip and you will have to start this dreaded process all over again. After what feels like 3.7 hours of sheer patience and determination sitting at the foot of your bed, you successfully get both legs in. Time for the ultimate test: Can you pull them all the way up?

Stage 3: Triumph

Success! You are the Queen of the Tights. Who's the boss now, huh? Fierce, fierce, fierce. That dress is going to look faaaaabbbulllouuuusssss. Werq.

Stage 4: Regret

Mid-excitement, you dance too hard and feel something rip. While shouting a train of expletives, you quickly survey your legs. What happened? Are they okay? And then, you find the culprit —there's a tiny run down the back of your left leg. Nooooooo!

Stage 5: Determination

You are a WOMAN. You don't just throw in the towel when the going gets rough! You're going to fix this and fix it quick because you have a hot date that you're already running late for. You sprint to the bathroom, grab a bottle of hairspray, and go to town on those runs. You spray so much that every hairstylist in Brooklyn is ready to hire you. OK, this should keep everything in place. You put on your dress, your shoes, your jacket, give yourself a pat on the back for avoiding this potential fashion disaster, and strut out the door.

Stage 6: Defeat

Two blocks down the street, the seas begin to part and the tiny run begins to deepen until OH LOOK THERE IT IS — your tights are falling apart. You feel betrayed and hurt and you've had enough. You duck into the nearest bathroom and rip them off completely and hurl them into a garbage can. The dress looks so much better without them anyways.

Images: Danielle Moler/Flickr; Giphy