... or when Santa rings twice. What I've already experienced this morning.... sometimes I feel like I'm in my own sitcom!
December has always been quite something. Various Christmas parties, two kids' birthdays, wedding anniversary (… at least one less celebration), and then of course Christmas: always way too early and totally unexpected. Just like this morning after a long night, Linette's Christmas party and still at night arranging the Santas in the kids' cleaned shoes, I completely overslept the alarm at half past six. When Santa No.1 rings at 7 o'clock, at least my son (he still has early childhood bed escape and hey, it's Santa!) opened the door for him. "Oh God, we overslept!" flashes through my brain folds and I gingerly, just a little hungover, get out of bed to wake the girls. Meanwhile, Santa No.1 makes breakfast, when Santa No.2 rings the doorbell fully loaded. And there I stand now: everyday heroine in fine tights – at least from Falke – mind you, wearing some long sweater, not made up, and the hair, well, it's as frizzy as always. Only now do I realize that I slept in tights. No one, really no one, seems to mind or notice. After all, I'm just the good old house spirit. Maybe I should have been holding a whisky glass and had a flag all the way to Mecklenburg so that my neo-realist Sophia Loren look would be properly appreciated by the family audience.
As a child, I hated tights. Elastane hadn’t been invented yet, and when I think of the winters of my childhood, they’re inevitably associated with scratchy wool tights. I don’t remember when I first wore nylons, only that I hated them for a long time too because I couldn’t find any that didn’t slip at the crotch. My worst experience was as a 16-year-old exchange student in Walla Walla, Washington, when I lived with Mormons and had to wear skin-colored tights during a four-hour Sunday church service in 40-degree heat (maybe I should suggest that to RTL for their boot camps?). But as the saying goes: time heals all wounds, and if you work in fashion like me, tights and stockings are a seasonal topic. From April to the end of October, I try to go without anything on my legs. But when it’s freezing, I give in; I’m not vain, and as my friend Julia (Malik) so nicely says, you don’t want to "sleep through the seasons like a complete fool" during this polar period. And since glitter socks exist, I’m my own fashion rule breaker! I shop my favorites in Paris at Tabeo – a small Japanese store in the Marais – and if there’s time, I like to have them embroidered (by the way, also a great gift tip for the holidays). If I have a "bad toe day," I wear glitter stockings even in milder temperatures, often with sandals or high heels. And since the hem of my favorite jeans sits above the ankle, I had to seriously up my sock game, an up-stocking!
I still prefer tights for dresses. For a while, I tried thigh-high stockings without suspenders, but either the circumference of my thighs wasn’t wide enough or the stocking adhesive tape was already worn out. Anyway, now I love these ultra-soft, purely matte tights with a comfort waistband and innovative gusset. You can even sleep in them, and nothing slips down (except maybe my mascara...). Important and an absolute must: they must be opaque, even if the trend is towards transparency. Next summer, my night trend will also be for the day: Balenciaga sent pants with built-in shoes down the runway. I’m curious how it feels to sleep in them after a party.