Seam Hater

I'm a seam hater. I hate seams on the insides of my clothes. Especially socks and hose. They get under my toes and the ball of my foot and it hurts! I hate labels, too but that's another story. I decided to dress up a little more than usual for work the other day and I made the mistake of wearing hose/tights AND high heels.

Since I've had my back welded together into one piece, wearing heels is sort of tricky. I tend to pitch forward and when I walk, and it looks like I'm about to topple over (which I sometimes do. Sort of like a Weebil. Weebils wobble but they don't fall down - except I do).

I'm not a graceful hose/tight wearer either because the dang seams get under my toes or under the ball of my foot and I try not to put my weight on that area of my foot when I'm walking so I look dorkier than normal. That and I pull off my shoe every 15 minutes to move the seam back to the ends of my toes. So everyone gets to smell the lovely scent of my plastic Pay Less shoes that have been worn for hours. And I'm constantly trying to hike up my hose/tights because the crotch is forever positioned more at my thighs than my crotch. (Thanks to the wonderful author and artist of http://www.lifeinthepitts.com/ for this awesome depiction of hose hiking!)

It's hard hiking your hose/tights in a building which has security cameras everywhere! Check me out, Mr. Security Guy!! I'm lookin' HAWT yanking on my hose!

So, here I am in my skirt and tights (I couldn't get my shoes in the picture). I'm not sure what's up with the snarky looking smirk on my face. The seam is probably digging into the ball of my foot, or maybe the crotch of my tights is about to become visible at my knees. And look how I'm hanging on to my chair. That's because I have heels on and I'm probably about to topple over. I am one fine specimen of a woman, let me tell ya. I have the grace of an antelope (one that has 3 broken legs), the poise of a ballerina (who is stone drunk on scotch), and the fashion sense of the most famous designer ever (who is blind and crippled in both hands). Look at me. Bathe in the glory that I emit. Hope and pray that one day, you can be as awesome as me. And if you're lucky you won't be near me the next time I rip off my Pay Less shoes and adjust the damn seam on my hosiery.