warm legs

It is cold.

I figure I should preface this post with that point first.

Yesterday when I was riding the train, I noticed this guy. I think I noticed him for mainly one feature. It was not his striking blue eyes, nor his trendy looking jacket. It wasn’t even the fact that he was reading a political magazine or that his hair had that ‘I-just-got-out-of-bed-I’m-so-sexy’ look. It was more what was on his face. It was not an item of food (thank god), or a lipstick mark (also, thank god), it was his facial hair. He was the owner of a very impressive beard. It was thick, it was bushy, and despite the fact I am not one usually going for facial hair, it looked good.

My initial thought was: man, the bottom of his face must be rather warm! I could use one of them.

Yes. Strange. (But really, I am the person who claimed to have originally got a thick fringe cut to keep my forehead warm in winter, clearly neglecting the fact that winter comes with strong winds and hence, the practicality of a fringe, and reasons for its existence change from ‘keeping forehead warm’ to, ‘pissing off Amanda because it won’t sit nicely and gets blown about the place clearly wrecking any potential of a ‘good hair day’’).

Anyway, though this sounds entirely random, it has a point. And this point happens to concern appropriate dressing. After I had my little ‘I-wish-I-had-a-beard’ moment, I then mused over my inappropriate layering habits. I wish I had put on a cardigan underneath my jacket, and overtop of my long sleeved top and t-shirt combination. It reminded me of how, in the weekend paper, they had mentioned something about wearing shorts. I am aware that this doesn’t sound particular wild, or rather new, it just made me question whether I had my dates right, and whether Australia was actually situated in the southern hemisphere. Shorts. In winter. Hooray.

When I got off the train, for any casual observer, it must have looked incredibly odd. I was wearing a jacket (with a hood), jeans, and Dunlop volleys (green yay), with a t-shirt and long sleeve top. The girl next to me was wearing gladiator shoes, a pair of small black shorts, a singlet top and a cardigan. What the? Surely we’re in the same city, right?

I think I am rather confused.

I am all for shorts, in fact, I happen to own a few pairs, but I am not one to wear them in winter. I do not want to expose my legs in the rain and sleet, and have them look especially ‘chickeny’ (in terms of looking like chicken skin with all the cold goosebumps on them!).

It’s trendy now apparently. Shorts, with stockings and heels. Or stockings and boots. Anyway. Shorts. Short-shorts even. Where did this come from? And who is it that happens to dictate fashion? I am no fashion tragic. In fact, I am probably the most unfashionable person out there due to the fact I really do not like (nor appreciate) shopping, and hence my wardrobe tends to be rather outdated, but shorts seem like such a summer item. Or something you happen to wear when you are going out clubbing (like I did back when I just became legal, ha). Skirts and leggings, ok it seems understandable, but the shorts thing just doesn’t go well with me.

Don’t even get me started on jandals/thongs and the way that they flick shit up your arse when you walk in them when it’s wet outside. (clearly not literal shit, but when you walk and they do that ‘thowock’ thing and all the crap and wetness/mud off the ground gets thrown up your back, you know what I mean, don’t think I am crazy).

I remember back a few years ago, it was all about layering. You don’t just wear a singlet top, you wear multiple ones in different colours. And you don’t just wear a t-shirt. You wear a t-shirt with an open shirt, and then a cardigan, and then a jacket, and you wrap your scarf around your neck like there was no tomorrow.

Ah, fashionable post Amanda.

So anyway, things I don’t get

  1. Short skirts, and bare legs, and then ugg boots. What the. Warm feet, cold legs?
  2. Shorts, and then stockings/leggings. Wear pants? Tight pants if you must?

I think this is one of the things I won’t be succumbing to. I guess that when I dress like an Eskimo, at least I won’t be shivering on the inside, wondering why I had forgotten my cardigan. Maybe a coffee would warm the bones and my legs will be thanking me, even if they look rather unfashionable.


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