Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t do spandex.
That said, I’ve been wearing a lot of rather… clingy clothes as of late.
As you may be aware, I live in Michigan, it’s the middle of winter, and we’re buried under two feet of snow. There’s an inverse relationship between the number of layers one is required to wear and how far below freezing the temperature drops, so needless to say, I’ve been bundled up since December.
Most people wear regular long underwear (or fancy silks) but I’ve never been most people. I think the last honest-to-goodness long underwear I owned had cartoon characters on it. So what have I been wearing?
Or more specifically, spandexy leggings.
I bought them in Mexico in a moment of weakness, but after one or two attempts at wearing them under a dress, I banished them to the back of the closet. They moved with me, only to be relocated in the back of the dresser, until one frigid morning when I realized they’d fit perfectly beneath my work pants.
Because layers aren’t limited to the lower extremities, I’ve also piled on the shirts. (I then begin a complicated layering technique that prevents any air from reaching my skin but also takes fifteen minutes to get undressed. Or go to the bathroom.) By now you’re probably wondering how this makes me a superhero.
Well… the bottommost shirt is also somewhat spandexy. For two minutes every morning I’m a spandexed fool, ready to save the world from whatever danger lurks around the corner.
You wouldn’t believe the sense of adventure that knowledge adds to your day. Or maybe that’s just me.