It’s no exaggeration to say that I’ve been on an almost lifelong quest to find the perfect pair of tights. This search has left me feeling like Goldilocks: I want a pair that won’t roll down or sag but isn’t uncomfortably clingy. I want support, but I don’t want to feel restricted. I want a light denier, but not so thin that I pierce the fabric hoisting them up.
In my indie sleaze days (back then, it was simply indie), I could style out ripped tights, convincing myself it was all part of my Effy from Skin aesthetic, but pulling off laddered hosiery has proven to be a harder sell in your thirties.
