Forgive my shoddy meter:
As the cold wind blows,
I look at my bare legs,
and think of panty hose.
Come rain, snow, or shine,
I wear a girly skirt-
The essence of femininity divine.
Even in the bitterest of snows,
I sport my adorable frocks,
without panty hose.
I know I'm probably mad,
But the nylon fabric,
Is a most unfortunate professional fad.
To combat vendor foes,
I'm expected to wear a navy suit,
With complementary panty hose.
But I despise the synthetic cloth,
And those old lady knee highs,
I openly scoff.
What happened to the trends of long ago,
When garter belts and silk stockings,
Were worn instead of panty hose?
This inelegant modern style,
Is unmistakable to the old-fashioned eye,
As the embodiment of everything cheap, fast, and vile.
Yet as everybody knows,
In the winter it's cold and more tempting,
To endure the pain of panty hose.
I pluck up my resolve,
And decide to never give in,
No matter how the weather evolves.
So when to lunch my project team goes,
I bare-leggedly tag along,
Still resisting the lure of panty hose.
I think of the judgmental teeth,
Digging into my flesh,
And I want to weep.
But then I remember my parking garage lowest of lows,
When a stiff wind blew up my skirt,
And I'd longed to be wearing panty hose.
So just as I've given in and made up mind,
I see my boss' open toed shoes worn with tights,
And I see it's a sign.
Because no matter what the advice from the pros,
I do not like the look or feel,
Of the practical but uncomfortable panty hose.