Tight Fit

Posted by Isabel Dexter at 22:19 on 13 May 2009

• Print
• Share
• Comment

Looking for black opaque tights in Paris is like looking for meaning in an episode of Desperate Housewives (or realistic female characters in anything written by Michael Houellebecq).  Practically impossible. And yet every fille here is showing off her twiglet-skinny, black nylon-clad pins in carefully chosen mid-thigh length skirts or tailored shorts (in black, of course). Is there some kind of secret bulk-buying frenzy that occurs early in October that no one tells English girls about? Perhaps behind every innocent-looking French wardrobe door lurks enough pairs of black tights to last a lifetime of war rationing. C'est trop bizarre.

Time that should be spent working has been spent trying to hunt down these illusive creatures. Suddenly this is on a par with finding an original Alaia dress. (Oh and trying to separate out my existential angst from my desire to be a fully fledged mélangiste...) From Monoprix to Printemps, C&A to Galeries Lafayette, if I wanted chocolate brown, or navy or dark grey, then fine. Even black lace or super sheer stockings - parfait! There are leggings and footless tights galore (though I don't see anyone actually wearing them), but when all I need are some nicely practical, simple, plain black tights - well, apparently c'est impossible! (I think I'm starting to sound like my mother). Time to mourn Paris' very own M&S. Oh the shame of being so British.

Meanwhile, I've been wearing red, electric blue and a bizarre lace-tights-over-black-leggings combo (I'm getting desperate, ok?) and trying to pretend I'm not being stared at. The red tights in particular seem to have a reverse traffic light effect where anything goes - comment-wise. "J'adore les grandes jambes rouges" (I love your big red legs). Hmm. Classique. But my favourite was a boy in the Marais today who told me "Oh you're perfect. I wouldn't change anything about you." Then glancing down at the vermillion tights, sort of widened his eyes and muttered "well, perhaps..." Actually I think my mother would agree. Je suis un peu too much.

• Next entry
• Previous entry