Shorts Are Not My Friend

Today it was very hot so I decided to be brave and wear shorts. This is brave because I am pasty white like a vampire, and not even Hot-Vampire-Pasty-White, just stupid pasty white like a person who never tans. And I try and get all superior about it and say ‘eeew, tans, so bad for you!’ but this is because I don’t have one.

But I thought I would practice wearing shorts and get over the whole pasty white thing and then I realised that pastiness was the least of my worries because every time I sat down my thigh rippled like a golf ball. And in case I am drowning in metaphor too much here (get it!?) what I am talking about people is CELLULITE. And there I am on the train rippling and trying to spread my bag all over my lap to cover it up and failing miserably and feeling terribly self conscious especially when a bunch of girls got on said train looking all annoyingly un-pasty and toned. Bitches.

I realise I was probably the only person in the whole world who noticed my golf ball thigh. But this is not the point. One person is enough to notice and so what if that person was me.

Luckily I was only going to my parent’s house, and it’s kind of the rule that parents think you look beautiful no matter what you look like, but I don’t think I’m going to manage shorts around anybody who is not immediate family anymore. It just stresses me out too much.

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2 responses to “Shorts Are Not My Friend

  1. I have the same problem, with the added bonus of what is often referred to as “the hungry clacker” (shorts riding up between your thighs….making it appear as though your clacker is eating them…terrible affliction.)

    P.S. Parents thinking you’re beautiful no matter what?! That is so not a rule in my family. My mother is the first person to tell me what items of clothing are not working for me. Usually in a typical passive-agressive sitcom-mother type way….without the laugh track.

  2. this is very amusing. unfortunately i think you have very nice legs, that are a lovely even pasty, so i don’t see any problems. it is unfortunate because i am immediate family.

    it is also comical because i assume the shorts to which you refer are the ones i sold you, and there is ONE pair left at work that mum saw yesterday. i then had a big shit crack and went ‘WAH biffy never wears them anyway what a loser’ and mum said ‘don’t be rediculous she wore them the other day – they looked lovely.’ which lead us to believe you must wear them all the time just not on days we see you. that is all.

    p.s. kate: i am impressed with the hungry clacker. this often happens to me also. generally on public transport too, which now leads me to believe that there is some kind of crazy time lapse magical portal within public transport which causes golfball thighs, hungry clackers, and other distressing fashion malfunctions.

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