I am currently in the process of modifying my entire wardrobe to accommodate the guidelines of an LDS Mission. (I'm a Mormon, for those of you who are already confused.) It's not that I'm a skank. As far as coverage goes, I've done an admirable job in my wardrobe selection. I think the reason why guidelines must be instated for the mission is that when fashion sense goes unsupervised for years, the results are often embarrassing, unbeknownst to the wearer. So this is the Church General Presidency's gentle way of saying, "we don't want people to think we've got a bunch of weirdos representing our church." OK, I admit that's a stretch. We are a bunch of weirdos, but we're trying hard not to look like it. And not everyone's fashion sense is that bad. I happen to own a Joan Jett and the Blackhearts T-shirt that is very chic.
The bane of my new wardrobe, no competition, is pantyhose. My mission checklist recommends having 24 pairs of pantyhose for a year and a half. That's not a typo... it really says 24. To give it a chance, I wore a pair of Leggs Tan Size B to church yesterday. I have never really understood what purpose they serve, or the logic behind them... everyone knows they are about as destructible as wet tissue paper. I hear they're supposed to make your legs look better, but I'm really skeptical about that. First of all, they make your legs look like they are covered with a thin layer of shimmery substance, like they are radioactive or something. Second, they make your legs a different color from the rest of you, no matter how hard you try to find a matching shade. (Personally, I don't think women need an excuse to artificially change their appearance any more than they already do.) Thirdly, after you wear them a few times, they always get stretched out, and then you look like you have wrinkly ankles and knees. Call me crazy, but having radioactive, fake, wrinkly legs has never been a very attractive idea to me, unless you're trying to disguise yourself as a log floating in the waste-water of a nearby power plant, or Joan Rivers.
I used to look smugly at other women wearing pantyhose, being proud of baring my own uncovered legs. I'd see runs running up the back of their legs and think, ha! Good thing I don't have to worry about that! However, it looks like my days of smugness are over, temporarily. Soon I too will fall prey to itchiness, inconvenient bathroom-going, and stuck-together toes. Well, pantyhose-inventor, you failed to achieve complete misery for womenfolk: At least now I only have to shave my legs half as often.