A Lighter View
Stalking stockings
By K.E.H. Stagg

October 7 , 2010

One of the many reasons I detest the advent of cold weather is that I’m forced to wear stockings to protect my bare legs from wind, snow, sleet, and whatever else the evil weather fairies bring. Being reduced to donning them this early October adds insult to what is already serious injury to begin with.
Some idiotic male during World War II got the bright idea that silk should be saved for parachutes rather than be wasted on women’s stockings, figuring that there was “no appreciable difference” between silk and silk-like materials . I say, “Just like there’s no appreciable difference between diamonds and diamelles or gold and gold-tone jewelry”. While I certainly don’t begrudge the Air Force their parachutes, silk and nylon are NOTHING alike, as every wearer of hose knows, and those of you with allergies to synthetics know exactly what I’m talking about.

For men who have no concept of the pain and suffering that go into women’s legwear, it’s probably easiest to equate wearing stockings to turning your legs into sausages. A mish-mash of synthetic fibers go into the composition of hose: nylon, latex, spandex, and the all-encompassing“other”, just like the meat “parts” that make up sausage. The height and weight charts showing which size “fits” (and I use this term loosely) varies by as much as six inches and 50 pounds, so you’ve either got folds of shiny material wrinkled around your ankles and looped around your waist, or you are stuffed into your synthetic casing under such pressure, one deep breath will pop all the seams and put out the eye of an innocent bystander.

And because, unlike natural fibers—such as silk, linen, or cotton—nylon and its relatives don’t “breathe,” wearing hose is like turning into a boiled sausage. I can vouch for my body temperature rising by as much as 20 degrees simply because I put on a pair of nylons.

I’m pretty sure the synthetic fibers are treated with fiberglas, because within an hour of wearing stockings, I begin to itch EVERYWHERE the stockings come into contact with my person. Modesty prohibits me from going into gory detail, but let me just say I think longingly of tree bark undergarments when the itching reaches its worst. Sadly, there isn’t enough tree bark in the world to handle the widespread itch caused by nylons!

If you’re really, really lucky and buy your stockings at an off-brand store, you get the treat of “slightly irregular” nylons. I once got a pair that unfolded to reveal one leg sewed on facing forward and the other leg facing backward. Unless I dislocated and broke one of my legs, there was no way on God’s green earth I was ever going to be able to wear those things. “Slightly” irregular, my Aunt Fanny!
So, here’s to the arrival of cold weather and the frustration of nylons; may their reigns be equally short!