The Tits of Christmas and a Question of Seattle's Summertime Fashion

All of this sunshine reminds me of San Diego at Christmas time and when I was younger, Christmas meant three things:

1. No school!
2. Presents up the ying-yang - divorced parents means two trees, two dinners, and more presents
3. And thank you cards...oh how I loathed the thank you cards...

One Christmas in particular, my highly sophisticated grandmother sent me white, pink, and red stockings. Her perception of her granddaughter at the time may have been a little skewed because I was the tomboy of tomboys (I mean come on, I wore my brother's clothes to school).

But it was my responsibility to write to my grandmother to thank her for her generosity. This is how the card turned out:


Dear Lethe,

Thanks for the tits. I hope you had a great X-Mas.

Love,

Lizzie


The tits? Thank you for the tits? Luckily my dad was a master of proof reading and found my glaring error - after laughing uncontrollably at his youngest. But the sunshine and Christmas reminiscing leads me to wonder how much longer I can hold on to my love for tights. As long as I'm riding my bike around town I much appreciate the "safety first" approach to wheels, wind and skirts, but at day's end nylon and sweat are not best friends.

At work with my blue monster tights (Urban Outfitters 2 for $20) and semi-free Jimmy Campbell slingbacks (Shhh!)

What is a girl supposed to do?


Love,

-L