BC I had never squeezed my thighs into anything that resembled a legging. My very short legs weighed down on my size 3 stumps creating a shape not befitting of such tight attire. My staple uniform for work or play consisted of something in the hipster/bootcut jean/trouser ilk and a pair of appropriately high heels (4 inch minimum) – heels make your legs look longer, fact, and I need all the length I can get!
So why is it that I now own a variety of leggings, in varying degrees of threadbareness, the heels have been replaced with a trusty (flat) UGG come rain or shine and this new get-up has no sign of abating. I get a little bit too excited when I find a legging that doesn’t bag at the knee after a few hours (randomly, Miss Selfridge are rather impressive) in a way that I used to lust after shoes that would kill after a few minutes.
Let me be clear, my legs are no more legging worthy than before, however, my need for quick, comfort wear that is easily distinguishable in a pile of clothing matter by the side of my bed, outweighs any need of a lengthened leg. I’m actually freaking out about summer, what the hell will I wear, leggings and flip flops is not a look I’m prepared to start messing with. Plus, this is the look my mother has sported on the odd occasion that has had me crinkling up my nose and tutting in disapproval whilst clicking my heel on her coffee table.
So it begs the question is this legging legacy an inevitability for me, was I always destined to wear the unwearable, morphing into my mother as each day passes, or does it happen to all comfort seeking mothers?
Jordan's take on the Mummyform
heels, squeals and mushed-up meals! 