XL Woolly

 When you are a person, such as me, who used to be considerably larger in size than you are now, the habit of buying clothing in bigger sizes tends to sit with you because you sometimes can’t quite believe you are a significantly smaller person. Somehow you seem programmed to hit the XL button when you are internet shopping because in your mind you always see yourself as enormous. 

This week, then, when I decided to add to my collection of brightly coloured Winter woolly tights (because there is nothing like cheerful hosiery to keep one feeling chipper during the cold dark months) I ordered six pairs - black, navy, plum, burgundy, red and mustard - all in size XL. Well, you have to be careful with thick tights because they don’t have the stretch of their finer denier companions. And a straining gusset flying at half mast can be a very debilitating thing when one is out walking in public and there’s no discreet corner where one can hide and have a surreptitious yank up and rearrange of one’s under nether arrangements. Best err on the side of caution especially when one has ordered XL in the past and wept to oneself when even they didn’t fit properly. 

The tights arrived a couple of days later, and today I wore the mustard pair because I am currently channelling Malvolio on account of my early stage planning of the Much Malarkey Manor Christmas Story 2023 AND I was wearing mostly navy, and apparently mustard and navy are trés chic and on trend this season. 

Here they are:

I am sitting down because it’s been a busy day and my little feet are tired. But mustard, eh? Good old Colman’s English, I reckon.

The thing is, when I put them on, I soon realised I could have probably got away with ordering M for Medium instead of XL for Xtra Large. (Why aren’t they EL for Extra Large? That would make better sense, surely?) As I pulled them up, they went waaaaaay past my tum ‘n’ bum and, Dear Reader(s), dare I say, all the way over my ribs and up to my bosomage! They are like a tights and vest combo in one! In fact, if I wore them bra less (which I wouldn’t because that would be MOST unwise) they would be pullable up and over the now non-gravity defying nipples!

Could I attach little straps to the tops of the tights and wear them as some sort of snug fitting waders, I wondered? Obviously, I wouldn’t go into water with them because that would definitely be inviting a droopy gusset, but the thought did cross my mind. The only problem is that every time I needed a visit to the wee shop, I’d have to pretty much fully undress to release the straps, and that’d be a load of faff for a quick tiddle. And if you remember the garment called the ‘body’, popular during the 1980s (a leotard, basically, which did up down below via poppers on the gusset - whoever thought THAT would be comfortable was clearly a man) you’d know that clothing that inhibits the need for an urgent wee is never a good idea.

Andy reckons my other problem (are tights that reach one’s armpits a problem? Jolly snuggly, I’d say) will be if they slide downwards and pool in wrinkles around my ankles, and I’d end up like Nora Batty. I don’t know if this is wishful thinking on his part. Anyway, I am all woolly tight ready for Winter! Hurrah!