That and high boots. But that is another tall secret for another day…
Tights are an inexpensive way to test your fashion boundaries, have some fun and show off your legs all while covering your ankles for a change. The options for colors, designs and materials are literally as endless as the price points. I walk into the specialty shops in the mall and my creative mind begins to wander and explore so many different scenarios – I’m like a kid in a candy store! It’s nothing but glitter, flowers and sex all rolled into one!
Naturally, my reverie is so rudely interrupted when I look to the back of the package.
Being an eternal optimist, I always think the handy chart will somehow magically include sizing for someone who is over 5’11. But alas, I am forever disappointed. Thankfully, I just happen to like living on the edge (of course) and I always end up taking the risk by buying the extra large size (which clearly I am not) and HOPE that the material is stretchy enough to limit the low riding crotch that will inevitably occur. Or that the pattern will not become oddly distorted as I pull every last bit of length I can out of the fragile material. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t – and when it doesn’t, I just simply throw up the white flag in defeat and have an uncomfortable day in my fabulous looking tights that cost me a small fortune.
Wait a minute – is this a potential product for tall women just WAITING for development at Raw Sugar?!
OMG – I think I’ve just been struck by lightning…
The life of a tall, single woman.
Good thing I am perpetually hopeful.
I keep forgetting how short this shirt dress is. On a normal person, it would be perfect…
I have developed a love/hate relationship with my legs over the years. I don’t really have a problem with it per say, it’s more the reactions that others have. And while walking around this weekend, I felt this dissonance rather strongly and with acute awareness.
Now don’t get me wrong, the positive attention is amazing and strokes my ego like no other can. My legs have a natural pull to them and can be hard to ignore – especially in a short summer dress. A man hanging out of his car window hollering at me is, in my opinion, not the most creative method to get my attention (really…you are driving AWAY from me!!) but is also strangely exhilarating – especially given my age. I often giggle quietly as couples walk past me, man trying ever so hard to hide the path of his eyes and woman staring at me with a mix of awe and anger all rolled into one. Cue the nasty glare. Tourists have even taken pictures of me as I walk past thinking that because I am tall and thin I somehow must be famous yet they are unsure of who I am exactly. Now, THAT is a VERY odd experience…and leaves me sad that I have somehow duped them into thinking they got something really neat from their trip. But it has also given me insight into what it really must be like being a celebrity and the lack of privacy or consent. People smile at me more. Doors magically open for me. The positive effects of my legs are truly endless!
But, there must be a sense of balance and my legs are no different. The anger in women’s eyes is palpable. The comments that are not necessarily meant to be negative often come off as being just that. When a short man tells me (somewhat angrily) that I should not be wearing heels because it is simply not right or fair always seems to illicit the same response – that “ why I should be forced to wear ugly shoes because YOU are genetically average?!” Yeah – I’ve even mastered that line with the deadpan look too. Or the stares that are not necessarily in awe or envy but more in oddness and sadness. “It must be hard to date” I’ve been told. Children who state the obvious rather loudly to their parents as they look at me embarrassed for their child’s simple honesty. You could say that I’ve had to develop a thick skin over the years. And why it has taken me years to get over the stoop/slouch in my back in an awkward attempt to blend in.
Now that I am older (and wiser?), I can relish in both the positive and negative attention as it makes me different from the rest of the crowd. But, it has taken me many years to come to terms with my ability to stand out. And now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My foray into the dating scene has not been a stellar one to say the least and results have been well below initial expectations. I am naturally a competitive person. But, between the married, secretly gay and aspiring porn stars, I have been really testing my abilities to soothe my disappointed heart through warm comfort foods, my jammies and ever loyal cat. It has even come to the point where I am highly suspicious of the handsome and intelligent man, holding a carefully selected bottle of wine and a simple caprese salad, seeking nothing more than my company and conversation. When did dating become so confusing and difficult to navigate? Am I really this jaded?
I often think I ought to be doing better at this than I really am. I don’t think that I am that clueless nor unfortunate – speed dating showed me who the real “unfortunate” are in the dating scene. A mass of crooked teeth, unbearable nervousness, with a slight sense of desperation in their eyes – no, I do not fit into that category. Yet, my dating experiences have given me no other conclusive data to prove me otherwise. I maintain my appearance (through albeit barbaric procedures) to ensure that I am neat, tidy and pleasant in appearance. I am a regular at the gym. My bills are paid in-full and on-time every month. I attract the usual catcalls and have doors magically open for me. But, why do I have such a hard time meeting a person without falling down the rabbit hole again only to realize that he actually has a secret family somewhere else in the world and forgot to tell me? And more importantly, how did I not see that one coming?! I watch Lifetime…?!
I was recently told by a co-worker on an unrelated matter that I have incredibly thick skin. Boyfriends dying on you will do that to a person. As I listened to this individual, in my head, I was thinking to myself that maybe I am not moisturizing enough then. And I guess that is the real lesson in all of this – to stop looking to others for satisfaction and happiness but to focus more on myself to get what I truly need to feed my soul.
But that caprese salad was really good….
I always feel out-of-place – like I am living in a different place than everyone else around me. And as I age, I am finding that this dissonance is becoming more apparent. It’s either everyone seems to be too slow to keep up with my thoughts and ideas or I am way out to lunch. Personally, I prefer to think that it’s the former rather than the latter, but then again, I could be biased.
I recently read an interesting article outlining the attributes of an entrepreneur. As if I had been hit in the head with a swift kick by my inner self, it all started to make perfect sense. For each of the top 10 qualities outlined in the article described me to a tee, in my abilities, instincts and motivations. And even the thought of assigning the title of “entrepreneur” to myself is exciting – it sounds important, mysterious and successful. But, resisting the simple lure of a “title”, I have come to realize that I have been going against what my natural instincts have been telling me to do all along.
My work has never been the right fit, for I have always been working on someone else’s dream. I have had much to ponder. Where did I pick up this self-defeating sense of duty? Maybe it is something that has always been deep within me, holding me back. A fear of failure? Fortunately for me, I am now finding that these former excuses are becoming exposed and carry less weight than before.
As a result, I tend to wander aimlessly a lot. But my thoughts always seem to come back to the same thread, over and over again. Can I really let everything go, have faith and take this realization to the next level?
I am almost ready to jump off the cliff. My stomach is racing . And it feels amazing.
Something is going on and I don’t know what it is but I think I like it. But I don’t know… You know when you have a hard time remembering if a situation really did happen or if it was all just a dream…
I actually left my house yesterday without any make-up on and I was completely fine with it. Out in public! Downtown no less! In broad daylight!
You have to understand the gravity of the situation here – I am that woman who works out with full hair and make-up at the gym. I believe that I am merely being polite to ensure that I am looking my best for all to enjoy and envy. It’s simply good manners. And as such, I have willingly spent years and countless hours primping and priming, moisturizing and applying. The thought of assigning a value to this daily ritual is nauseating. Complete and absolute fiscal denial. Yet, yesterday I awoke without any need to re-touch or fix anything. I looked in the mirror and thought to myself how lovely I looked in that very moment. Relaxed. Content. Not a line, blotch or blemish in sight. And all under terrible lighting no less!
The moment has left me in shock and pondering the real cause of this sudden bravery – to expose myself for all to see – gasp! the real me?! I’m not even kidding ladies – not even a quick swipe of mascara was in sight.
Maybe its this venture. Maybe its the Yoga. Maybe its a culmination of my life’s experiences that have finally caused me to pause and take stock of my gratitude for life and for all the riches that I have amassed without expending one ounce of effort. It’s been an unnerving 24 hours to say the least.
I can assure you that today, I am neatly and flawlessly wearing my armour. But somehow it just doesn’t feel right anymore.
About the only time in my life where I feel small is when I am deep in the woods. Yes, you guessed it, I am tall. But not when I am amongst the trees.
When on the edge, the trees both gradually yet suddenly tower above me, blocking the sky from my view, and huddling me warmly into their home and far away from mine. I am simply forced to look up in amazement at their height, their strength and their (relative) sense of permanence. They face similar challenges just as I do. Strong winds will push them in ways they are not meant to go. Both animals and humans will cause injury to their trunks and branches like some sort of annoying pest might. Some age gracefully; others do not. But for the most part, their ability to remain firmly rooted to the ground and unfazed by the constant challenges that surrounds them, is truly inspiring.
For each season, they shed and change, reminding me that nothing in life is ever truly permanent yet they somehow always return back to the beginning, starting anew, but this time with a learned adaptation to protect and heal from the experience. The weight of their collective silence forces me to pause my thoughts. The crunch beneath my feet reminds me that I am moving forward. I can sometimes look back to see where I have been. And the idea that I may even become lost if I am not careful of my surroundings is, oddly enough, an exhilarating thought.
And maybe that’s why I feel more comfortable in woods than I really ought to be. I am a giant of the human world; they are the giants of the natural world. It’s nice to be around and to learn from those who understand what it’s like to be me.