The day I wore pink tights

(9 November 2008)

It all began with the Nordstrom Half Yearly sale.

My commute home takes me right by Nordstrom at the Stanford Shopping Center and so I saw the signs clearly from the street. (I need new black tights, I said to myself, as I turned into the parking lot.)

Having found the black tights, I perused the stockings on sale. In addition to a pair in a lovely, deep shade of royal blue, a pair of hot pink opaque tights caught my eye.

My shoulder angel (which has red curls and looks striking similar to my recent roommate Reija) reminded me of last year's failure - when I came home in great excitement with purple tights, tried them on for all of my roommates, and returned them (unworn) on Monday. The concerns I had expressed then returned to my mind: "What will these tights convey to others about me?" "What will a-certain-dignified-man-of-past-romance think?" "You look an awful lot like the Wicked Witch of the West in purple and black..."

But this year, I was able to quickly dismiss these concerns. "These tights are pink, not purple." "You are, in the end, too frivolous for such a man." "You have been so very severe and sober with recent Prop 8 happenings, that it is important people know you have a personality. It would, in fact, be dishonest to NOT wear pink tights."

And because I strive to be a woman of integrity, I bought them.

And wore them.

To church.

For the first time in a few weeks, I arrived early so that I could sit down discreetly in my pew. The Bishop's wife sat next to me and appeared to be delighted with my tights. ("Do you like them?" I asked her daughter. She hesitated, and then I gave her the option of a thumbs up, a thumbs down, and a neutral. She gave me the neutral and confided apologetically, "I don't like pink.") Just before she left the meeting, the Bishop's wife passed me a note about a man she thought I should invite over for dinner. Win #1 for the pink tights! (And no, I have NOT asked him to dinner - I'm not that bold!)

At the close of the meetings, I chatted in the lobby with friends. A few of my peers complimented me on my tights and within a few minutes one of them (a young man) caught up with me and invited me to come over for dinner ("with just a group of us") that afternoon. I accepted demurely. Win #2 for the pink tights!

By the evening, however, I was ready to be back in my typical drab garb of black and navy. And so I returned from dinner at my parents' home (my 18-month-old nephew was in awe of my legs) and changed into a more understated outfit (but retained my 3" patent black pumps) before mingling with my ward at a new members' social.

In spite of my precautions, a few young men brought up my tights. "Tell me," one of them said. "What went through your head this morning? Did you wake up thinking, 'Today I'll wear pink tights'?" I enjoyed telling them about how it all came about - and expressed mild anxiety over whether it was appropriate, but that I had felt morally obligated to be consistent with my personality. "Oh no," the other young man said, "You were totally okay. And, of course, you had every man in the ward checking out your legs."

And that's when my face turned the color of my tights

(And here I assert what a good thing it was that I wasn't wearing them at the same time. That would have been Too Much.)

And so, in spite of their arguments to the contrary, I knew in that moment that I could never wear my pink tights to church again. For fear that I would be considered brazen. Yes, I resolved, from now on, I would live my life with a more modest tone.

But to wear them to a wedding reception? Now that is quite unexceptional.