a (very) short tale

I've cherished these tights for a very long time. I bought these pretty black lace numbers with their perfect seams running up the back long ago when I lived in Jersey (Channel Islands) circa 1989, so we're talking acceptable vintage here. I got them from Laura Ashley which at the time was just a wee concession to the side of De Gruchy's, the main department store in St Helier and I paid £8.95, probably a fair bit then. They then travelled with me all over London, have seen me single, engaged, married and the arrival of two children, but all from the confines of their flat, black, elegant box.

Then, just this week, on waking up to such a cold and breezy day, I most definitely felt the need to cover up those pins again. Not with my Winter opaques though, and finding my usual lacy jobs annoyingly still languishing somewhere in the washing basket, I finally decided the time had arrived, gathered momentum and opened up my squirrelled hoard.

{the slippers are a nice touch, don't you think?!!!}

But after having waited just over 20 years for the moment, the most awful thing happened. You're thinking I laddered them aren't you? But no, think again. They are too short. TOO SHORT!! So there I was, forced to wear a pair of oversized grannie pants (a la Bridget Jones) over the top in a bid to stop them falling to my knees, still feeling the necessity to hoick them up every so often when no-one was looking! All day. And I haven't worn them since.

Has anything like this ever happened to you?

On another note, I've been wanting to post about the little dress I recently made for MLF as mentioned last week. Only for that to happen I need photos, and for that I need to use bribery tactics. I need to bake!

Happy Saturday x